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The Line

By: MungoParkIII



At first it was just a curiosity, the makeshift line of people snaking down through the streets of the neighborhood, the idle men milling about glancing at their watches from time to time. If my car hadn't stalled, I'd probably just driven past not really paying too much attention, but damn, here I was hiking home, my car parked in a neighbor's driveway. I was lucky, it could have broken down on the freeway or even in the city, fortunately my car at least got me within a few blocks of home. Of course, now that I was walking down the length of the long line it grabbed my attention.

Figuring I'd eventually find out what it was all about I tried not to pay attention to the individual men who were waiting. Even though this was my neighborhood, I didn't recognize any of them, and while some were well dressed wearing suits and ties, there were others that I'd certainly be afraid to meet alone in some dark alley somewhere. Simply looking down at the ground I walked down the street passing man after man.

I had gone about a block or so when I heard one of the men call out, "Hey, you there. You're not planning to cut in line are you?"

Realizing he was talking to me I looked toward the line and asked, "What?"

A short man with a scraggly beard stepped toward me and said, "You're walking past us. Are you planning to get up ahead and then cut in line?"

"No, I'm just trying to get home. My car broke down."

Unabashedly scratching his crotch he replied, "Yeah okay, but you sure you're not planning to cut?"

"I don't even know what you are waiting in line for."

A couple of men chuckled and the short man turned to them and shrugged his shoulders. "Some guys don't know what's worth waiting for," he said and then turning back to me he continued, "Okay, just don't cut in line."

Further up the line I heard another man ask, "Is some one cutting in line? We really need to start a list, get numbers or something."

"Don't worry he doesn't even know what we are waiting for," someone else shouted out. I could hear others chuckling at the comment. 

I kept on walking, noticing that the line went around a corner and continued up my street toward my house. Strangely the line actually appeared to curve up my driveway and lead to my front door. Quickening my pace I hurried past man after man, hearing an occasional voice call out, "Hey, no cutting." From half a block away I could see that my front door was open and the line of men continued on into my house. I quickly sprinted into my yard and elbowed past the crowd of men at my door.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing? The line starts back there," one man said, pointing back out the door.

Looking up at his dark face I growled, "This is my house."

The large man held up his hands and meekly replied, "Okay, okay, I didn't know. I'm sorry." Despite his dark skin, I could tell he was a bit flushed, obviously embarrassed about it all. However, embarrassed as he was, he didn't step out of line.

Turning my attention from the large man, I stepped into my living room and saw a number of men either naked or in various stages of undressing. As I walked past I heard them complaining, "Hey, hey, we're still in line here. We just moved over her to undress, just ask him," they said, pointing to a naked man in front of them. He nodded and added, "We've waited too long to let anyone cut in line."

"I live here," I said loudly and then proceeded down the hallway passing more naked men, most with erections, some actually stroking themselves while standing of tip-toes trying to look over the men in front of them. One man was walking towards me, his semi-erect cock glistening with wetness, a bit of white cum still oozing from its tiny hole.

One of the men in line asked him, "Was it good? Was it worth the wait?"

Looking up with a glazed expression he moaned, "Oh yeah man, that bitch is bitching."

"Alright," one of the men replied, grabbing his cock and squeezing it. "We gonna get you some fine action," he said, nodding to his erection.

Feeling dizzy I finally reached my bedroom door, pushed a man aside and then grabbed the door frame too keep from falling. Looking in I saw my wife on her back, her legs spread wide open as another man crawled up on our bed. Unable to move, I watched as my wife smiled at him, reached down and grabbed his hard cock, stroked it just a bit and then guided it into her soaking wet pussy.

I watched the muscles in the man's ass flex as he thrust himself deep into her, actually lifting her ass up off the bed with the power of his stroke. She wrapped her legs around him as he slowly withdrew and actually helped pull him into her with her legs on his next thrust. The man then reached down and grabbed her hips, holding her tight, pulling her to him.

In a near trance, I slowly wandered into the room walking over to the side of the bed. I simply watched as their two bodies crashed together with a loud slapping noise. Her breasts twirled with the rhythm of their bodies and I could see her eyes were closed. Looking at the man's face I could see he was getting close to coming.

"Oh honey, hi," my wife suddenly said, smiling up at me. She then looked back at the man and moaned, "Come on, yeah give it to me."

He arched his back and I could see his face contort with pleasure as he came, shooting his cum into my wife's pussy. All I could do was watch as he made a couple more weak thrusts into her and then withdrew, his cock glistening. He simply smiled at my wife, whispered, "Thank you," nodded to me and then turned and walked out of the room.

Another man moved forward and asked, "You're not letting him cut in line are you?" as he crawled up on the bed. 

"No, no, you go ahead," she said to the man and then turned to me, "Oh and look at you." She reached out and grabbed my hard cock through my pants. "Take it out for me," she said, turning back to the man between her legs. She reached down and grabbed his cock and guided it into her pussy and then turned back to me.

She then reached up and began stroking my cock just as the man began thrusting his cock in and out of her pussy. Moving her hand up and down my shaft, she matched the rhythm of the man fucking her so as I moved my hips back and forth I could see I was in perfect unison with the man shoving his cock in and out of her pussy. Suddenly the man moaned, "I'm coming, I'm coming."

As he arched his back and filled my wife with his jism, I came too, spurting my cum over her breasts again and again. My wife smiled and said...

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

"Mr. Thompson, Mr. Thompson..."

Shaking my head I looked up at the nurse squinting my eyes. "What? Where..."

"The procedure is finished Mr. Thompson. Everything went very well, the chance of success looks good this time."

"Is she..."

"It's too early to tell. But your wife's fertilized egg was implanted without any problem, everything went well."

"And the sperm?"

"Like we said, though it's drawn from an anonymous donor, it is thoroughly tested and cross matched. We have every reason to believe that everything will go well."

"My wife?"

"She's fine, you can see her now."

I stood up and walked down the long corridor toward the room passing a long line of men all sitting in chairs. Feeling a bit dizzy I grabbed the doorframe and looked into the room. My wife was on her back on the bed, her legs hidden beneath the covers. Looking up at me she smiled and said, "Oh honey, hi."

The Line



The door was securely shut, the window's blinds were drawn, and she had never been so afraid of anything as she was of that old dusty red velvet recliner in front of her.

The chair itself had been a cheap impulse purchase at a yard sale, she remembered. He was so cheap, but he did love soft furniture, and especially old things. That old cloth smell really did it for him, she thought fondly, remembering his fondness for things that were heavy and solid and possessed of an air of history.

Then she remembered what he was doing to her, and she got the cold sweats. She shuddered a little and pulled the blanket tight around her nakedness.

Her ankle was chained to a radiator set in the wall with a lock she couldn't break, and a leather collar (with leash) snugged tight around her neck was her only clothing. She had even been denied the pleasure of her regular pink soft one- instead, he had bought a black leather one adorned with spikes from a pet store and put it around her soft struggling throat. As he locked it (carefully keeping two fingers inside the band as he tightened it- she would need her airways free) he whispered, "you'll wear this til your punishment is done... and til then, nothing else."

She shuddered at the memory of the cool line of his knife slitting her panties, sliding up the back of her old nightshirt, then the feeling of being tossed in the trunk of a car like a bag of garbage. Then being driven to a house and dragged out in the dead of night by a few willing compatriots- she thought she recognized a particular pair of warm feminine hands that lingered a bit too long on her ass- and now she was here.

And the party was about to start.

As a bitter irony and in-joke, the only food he had given her for the past three hours had been a few crackers and a bowl brimming with cream, but to eat he had cuffed her hands. He had hand-fed her the crackers (and even a few morsels of his steak sandwich) but he had made her lap up the cream like a cat, and whenever she had spoken, he had made a little hashmark in his book. At the end of the meal he had stood up, left the book open showing all twenty-one hashmarks, and administered 21 brutal strokes to her buttocks with his bare hand until she cried out and yelped, knowing that using words would only make him add more.

And then he had taken off the cuffs and left, turning out the lights, and she was alone watching the day's last sunlight creep away through the blinds.

Soon it would be night, and then the rest of the punishment would start. She tugged at her chain, pulled the blanket tighter around her, and waited.

The party began. She could hear laughing, chatting, friendliness outside. His voice, in particular- always projected, a little loud, telling a joke or storing, managing and smoothing the conversation. He eased from place to place- she could imagine him in his fine tuxedo (well, cheap tuxedo, she conceded in her mind), gracefully maintaining the social atmosphere... and she knew that he was probably half-hard the whole time he did it from knowing she was there, in the back room, waiting for her punishment.

She was there, in the dark, quivering with anticipation and damp between her pale thighs, for a long time.

Then suddenly the door opened, and a buttery light flowed in, revealing a well-dressed young man in a blue suit. His hair was short and blond, and his face was innocent- still with traces of baby fat at the edges.

He shut the door, solidly, and sat down in the chair, looking at her. She knew what she had to do.

He cleared his throat, nervously. Then he said, trying to sound domineering but failing, "don't you have something to be doing?" He unzipped his pants to make it more obvious. His erection was hard and medium-size, springing free from the confinement of his dress pants, upright and with a single drop of precum decorating the tip. He looked at her, nervous and innocent.

She grinned at the reversal of power. Licking her hand, she gently stroked his cock up and down, smoothing his flesh, wetting him. He let out an involuntary moan.

Giving a long lick from base to tip with the point of her tongue, cupping his balls with one hand, she set gently to work. Kissing and teasing the flesh of his cock, running her tongue right under the ridge of his head, kneading his cock with her lubricated hand- all of it was driving him mad. He gasped and writhed under her experienced hands, crying out just a bit, and when she took him into her mouth it took her two or three strokes at most before he shot his creamy load into the back of her throat, gasping and jerking like a marionette, moaning in pleasure. She swallowed, greedily, knowing it was part of her punishment.

He sat there for a moment, gasping, and then arose. "Th-th-thank you," he said, looking away. She grinned at his fear. "Come back any time," she said, leaning forward, giving him a come-hither gaze and good look at the beautiful naked body he was forbidden to touch.

He fled.

In the dark again, alone, she began to feel just a little rebellious. She tugged at the chain, trying to get it loose, or maybe even break it. No good- with no tools and no time, she wouldn't be able to break free.

She pondered her crime, and his punishment... as always the one far outmatched the other, but in an utterly different way. Her jaw was going to hurt by the end of all this, she knew, but it was worth it to be free of his approbation again, to have him not be angry anymore.

There was a whisper at the door, and then it opened, warm light spilling across her naked body- and the punishment caught up with her again, in a rush...

He was tall and slender, with a few tattoos just visible as he unbuttoned his shirt and pants. His eyes were dark brown and intent, intense, flickering, and his high cheekbones and full pouty lips gave him a darkly handsome androgyny that made her wet with lust.

She smiled inside. Even when he punished her, he kept an eye open for treats.

The man slid his pants down, revealing his elegant pink cock. Smiling, she reached for him, and in a single smooth motion took him into her mouth and cupped his balls gently.

He moaned and thrust gently in and out of her mouth, her pink lips sliding along his shaft, milking him, teasing him. Her tongue worked at his head and her fingers gently teased his sac, making him cry out whenever she played too hard.

Then, sneakily, she let one finger from her right hand move back and gently tease his rosebud. He gasped at her daring, and rolled his hips against her mouth.

Quickly speeding up, she increased the pressure of her finger while her mouth continued to work over his cock. He in turn gasped and grabbed at her head, taking a fistful of her hair and pushing her down. His moans turned to yelps of pleasure and he came, his cum squirting down her opened throat as she swallowed greedily.

They rested together, her gently sucking on his cock to tend his afterglow, him resting one hand on her head to keep her there.

Finally, he stood up and buttoned his fly. "Thanks for that, I think you deserve a medal for your generosity." He smiled and winked, then, whistling, strode cheerfully out of the room.

Back alone in the moonlight, she began to feel a little guilty. Here she was sucking cock in a closet- available for anyone he chose- how could she respect herself? How could she think she was anything but a filthy slut, a toy, a used thing, a human kleenex for people to take and then dispose of once they stained it?

But then she remembered his words to her- that she was his, and whatever she did under his orders, she was protected- wrapped in the arms of his love. Every person who came to her, he sent, and it was under his control- his blessing- that she obey him.

Nothing could be wrong when he had given her permission, she reflected, slightly delirious with the thought.

The door opened again.

A woman stood in the door, tall and dark haired and curvy, her body obscured by a prim but strappy red dress. Her skin was lightly tanned, her lips red, her cheeks pink with excitement.

"He said to come in here if..." Her eyes adjusted a little to the silvery moonlight and she saw her, stretched out and langurous on the floor. "He said if I came in here... I don't really know how to ask..." She smiled, shyly. She had a touch of a european accent, french or maybe exceedingly light upper-crust english.

"Do you want me to please you?" She whispered, her eyes cast down, so the newcomer wouldn't see the fire in her eyes. She was going to give this eurotrash slut the ride of her life, she decided. Time to prove her skill.

The woman stood awkwardly, fiddling with her zipper. "how do we..."

She reached behind her back (letting the blanket that covered her fall, revealing her glorious pale naked body) and unzipped her dress, letting it shiver to the floor in a silken puddle. The bra came next, but she wore no panties. She grinned at the vulnerability of this fine woman before her- and she smiled back, like a sheep before a wolf. She gestured, and the woman sat down in the chair, inviting her to attack.

She started with a kiss, first on the mouth, then moving down her neck. (She was bending the rules a bit, but she didn't think he'd mind.) Her mouth worked gently down the woman's long, fine body, pausing at the firm high pink-tipped breasts (tender, she noted, from the woman's gasped intake of breath), down her body and to her utterly flat, hard stomach. The woman's carefully maintained triangle of fuzz directed her eyes down to the thin line of her cunt, shining slightly in the reflected light from under the door.

The woman moaned and spread her legs, pulled her body towards the edge of the chair. "Please," she crooned, and putting one hand between her thighs she spread her labia with two fingers, her red-painted fingernails bringing out the pink of her sweet vulva. "Taste me..."

She kissed her, right on the clit, working down her slit, and further down, further still, kissing her damp smooth lips where she was slicked with lust, all the way down to the tight wet tunnel (she flicked her tongue inside, was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure) and then further still, kissing her way down to the woman's perfect pink rosebud, flicking her tongue against it as the woman moaned and writhed at the forbidden pleasure.

Gently slipping two fingers into the woman's cunt, crooking them up to feel the g-spot, she returned her tongue to the clit, working furiously over the hardening nub of pleasure. The woman's cries became continuous as she worked faster and faster, her tongue flicking in rapid circles. Then, as the woman approached her peak, she slid her wet fingers out of her cunt... and then slowly pressed a single fingertip up into her ass, impaling her while she moaned and her hips bucked again and again. As the woman's body convulsed and came, her ass clenching and hips rolling against the still-working tongue between her legs, the door opened again.

"Excuse me," said a very familiar voice.

The woman gasped and pulled away, looking over at the door, covering herself. He stood there, brilliantly outlined in the doorway, his body a smooth sentence of expressed pleasure.

"Your punishment is complete, my love." He stepped into the room and gently undid the spiked punishment collar from around her neck. She rubbed the places it had worn on her- she had nearly forgotten it was there, but she hadn't noticed how heavy and shameful it was until now.

"I'll burn this for you. You are forgiven, my little rose." He kissed her gently on the forehead. She squealed with pleasure. "Come with me?" It was a question, not a command, and she took advantage of the difference.

"I think this nice lady here still needs my attention." She raised her eyebrows. The woman nodded, a tiny smile curling her mouth. "And I need some of hers," she concluded.

"So you can go," she said, gesturing. "You're dismissed."

He left in a huff. She slid back to her prey in the chair. "Well, missy, I think you and I have some fun to have yet..."



The Line



Copyright 2008, 2009,2010, 2011 By Madengineer3

all rights reserved


I must remember what my siblings and I, have been taught. My father stressed it and constantly pointed out that our family was never to be the aggressors in any situation. In defense we were free to engage the enemy, but only with a measured response. However, there are circumstances in which that line must be crossed! This is hard to do when people pick you out as "strange" or "different". These people see my lack of aggression as a sign of weakness as opposed to a sign of intense inner strength. Little do they know the effort that it takes to not destroy them all in one moment's rage. They know so little, and arrogantly assert that they know how life really is to be lived. They define reality in terms of their twisted little view that those who are monetarily rich, are externally pretty, or are good at sports are the only people who matter. 

I am in my senior year of college. I am a mathematics major/physics minor and am a very average looking guy. I have never excelled in sports, not because I couldn't but because in the heat of competition I might let slip the fact that my reflexes and strength don't fit the normal human mold. If normal human strength and reflexes were plotted as a Gaussian curve I, and the other members of my family, would be considered to be more than six sigma (standard deviations) above the mean. 

Our family name would not register with you. In terms of normal geography my family is from a region that is a few hundred miles North East of modern Greece. We are an old family that can trace its origins back more than three thousand years. Our individual life expectancies are way outside the norm for humans. I was born when my parents were already over five hundred years old. We have a family story that one of our direct ancestors was the pre-flood Methuselah himself. If that is so it is but a small part of the our story.

My problem, at the moment, is that I, like all of my direct family, have swarthy eastern Mediterranean looks with what most educated people would say was more than just a tinge of Tartar blood. I live, and go to school, in an area where "Earth First" types of ecologists, and the Aryan Supremacists are strong. Now it may seem strange that these two groups would be strong in this one area, but upon reflection it is quite reasonable. Both of these groups see the solution to their pet areas of interest in the arena of violence and treasonous action. They both consist of "true believers" as Erich Hoffer would have defined them. It seems, at first, a strange fact that the Earth First type believers would make good Aryan Supremacists; but it makes sense when you consider that the Earth First types see population as one of Earth's biggest problems. In general when you consider who the people are who are having the largest families you can see why the two groups mesh so nicely. The only way a person can fit in with these people is to be as bigoted as they are or to excel at sports or fighting. I assume that if you were rich and famous they might also like you especially if you hate minorities as much as they do. Our family is very wealthy, but we neither show it nor admit it. There are a small number of people who are kind and accepting of me and my family. They are, for the main part, conservative Jews and/or true Bible believing Christians. Even they do not know how different our family really is. Locally these good people have sort of closed ranks around me having seen the hatred of a number of our classmates and many in the local population. A group of about twenty of these "Eco-SkinHeads" have decided to take out their displeasure with me by going after my friends. They have given up on going after me since I can be very elusive, especially at night. These vile thugs seem to lose their bravery in the light of day. They prefer to pick on people in darkness where they will not be identified as easily. Their "courage" is that of the mob. They can't stand up for their beliefs using reason and discourse. They only feel sure of themselves when they are in a group of "fellow believers". They are, individually, cowards.

A few nights ago these thugs put two of my friends, Mary Wright and Jeff Smith, in the hospital. Mary was just beaten badly. Jeff suffered a severe blow to the head. He will probably live but no one is sure if his mind will survive the damage. My inner senses make me believe he will, but even I can't be sure. The message had been left that this tactic of going after my friends would not stop until they get me.

I went to the local law enforcement agencies but in "this neck of the woods" some of them are blood relatives of some of those who are trying to get me. This leads to a horrible bind. I have made official complaints to both the police and sheriff's offices so that I have fulfilled the legal steps that a good citizen must take. But I feel certain that nothing will come of those complaints.

I am afraid that I will have to do something to "get their attention". I think I know what I need to do.

* * * *

I entered the bar that is frequented by those who I am sure attacked my friends. Conversations all but totally stopped as I came in and walked over to the bar to order a drink. The bartender appeared to be neutral, he's just running a business. I ordered a "rusty nail" and sat there nursing it slowly. After about ten minutes I could both sense and mentally picture their plan. They would send over one of the good looking girls who hang out with them. I suspected that they would have her become "friendly" and then lead me outside to somewhere private where they will try to get me. I had decided to play along with their scheme, but I also strongly suspected that later on they would decide that they wouldn't like the dark as much as they do now.

My brother and sisters had agreed to help me. Counting me there were only four of us, but four of us are enough to take on a small army.

Their girl, the "Judas goat", had come over and sat down next to me. As I can best recall the conversation went something like this.

She said: "Hi there; are you new in the area? I haven't seen you in here before."

"No, I live in one of the dorms over at the college. I just thought I'd try here tonight. The bar I normally go to holds some painful memories for me, at the moment."

"Painful memories? What happened?"

"I normally hang out with some friends who used to go there. They got hurt and are in the hospital. It's still not clear if they will recover properly or not. One of them received a very bad blow to the head."

"That's too bad, I'm sorry to hear it. So, are you trying to forget your sadness tonight? If so, maybe I could help you forget it."

"That would be nice. Thank you for caring. I'm Luke, but I didn't catch your name."

"Oh, yeah, I'm Nancy."

"O.K. Nancy, would you like a drink?"

"Sure, what are you drinking?"

"It's called a rusty nail. It is a mixture of Scotch and Drambuie."

"I'd like to try one, I've never tried Scotch. Is it strong?"

"Yup! No mixers are added to it. The only mixer comes from the melting of the ice cubes."

"I'd like one."

"Bartender, would you make Nancy here a rusty nail, please?

"Sure thing, coming right up."

A minute later Nancy was sipping her rusty nail.

"So, how do you like Scotch in this form?"

"It's different, but very good tasting. Does it hit you like a ton of bricks?"

"Well, that depends upon a lot of variables. For example what you last ate, when you ate it, if you have a cold, if you are tired, if you are taking any medicines, and the mood you are in all have some impact."

"Wow, are you a doctor or something?"

"No, just a student who likes the sciences."

A few minutes of small talk allowed Nancy time to finish her drink.

"Luke, this stuff sneaks up on you. It is feeling awfully warm in here. How about we go outside and get some fresh air? It would also let me get to know you better, if you know what I mean."

"Are you sure that's what you want to do?"

"Yeah, let's go."

I paid the bartender using my credit card.

"She led me outside. She gently guided me in the direction of the park in the center of town. It has some sections that are very private. It was in this park that the "Thugs" beat my friends. My family was following in the shadows but they wouldn't loose me. We see very well in the dark. The rods and cones in our eyes are sensitive to infra-red down to abut one micron. Most humans eyesight ceases at about 700 nanometers (That is 0.7 microns.) After we were a hundred feet or so into the park I could hear the clumsy movement in the bushes a bit behind us. I lead the girl to the left where it was darker. Darker is not good for my enemy, they can't see well enough to fight effectively.

I heard them coming after me. They showed no woodland skills at all. I would have to be deaf to not hear them. I approached my chosen battlefield, my "fatal terrain" as Lao Tsu would have called it. 

I stopped and proceeded to start kissing the girl who they used to "lure" me here. She was mechanically responsive but obviously on edge. I could sense her heartbeat and smell the increasing adrenaline levels in her body. The thugs had arrived, but hadn't seen us yet. I spoke to the girl:

"I think there could be trouble, try to run away over that way and I'll try to stall them."

She looked startled, paused for a fraction of a second and then stumbled away from me. In the meantime I had kicked off my shoes.

"So, you little misfit, you fell for it. You think you are so smart, and now you are all alone with no friends to help you. After what we did to your friends, what do you think we're going to do to you? I think you better say goodbye because you ain't going to walk away from this. You got any last words?" 

"Yes, you know you can stop now and walk away from this! If you continue to try what you have in mind you will discover you have made a bad mistake. By the way, what makes you think I'm alone?"

"Dream on, you're alone. We don't see or hear anyone else. You're just trying to stall things. Mike! - Jim!; Get him!!"

Under the lighting conditions all they could see of me was a dark indistinct moving shape. My family, and I could see them quite clearly.

The largest two thugs in the group moved toward me carrying baseball bats. I stood my ground and watched. For a minute it almost looked like they weren't sure about what they were doing. After all, I was just standing there with no indication that I was going to run. The lead thug moved his bat back to take a full swing. As his bat moved forward I sprang in a high arc over his head coming down behind him and took a swipe at the back of his legs with my hand. I had already willed my change. Two inch claws had already replaced the last joints of my fingers and toes. My sleek brown and black fur made me almost invisible. In one sweep I had cut the Achilles' tendons of the first thug. I cut him carefully to avoid the major arteries and veins. As he screamed and dropped I kicked the other thug in the side of his knee tearing away all the ligaments so that the knee bent sideways. Then I stood still and spoke again.

"Are you sure you want to continue this? Most of you can still walk away. Your friends, here, need medical attention, they seem to have hurt themselves."

All that could be heard was a snarl from the leader, "Get him!!" At this the other eight thugs started to move in. As they moved; my family, who had also willed the change, silently started to come out of the bushes. I'm sure to a normal human they would look like a cross between gorillas and large cats. Their fangs were bigger than those of any dog, as were the claws on their hands an feet. They were covered, like me, in their brown and black fur, which made them very hard to see. The thugs didn't see them since they were so focused on me. The fight quickly turned out to be something that the thugs hadn't expected. 

One of my sisters took the "leader" who had been giving the orders. He was only cut four places and kicked in one. He lost both Achilles tendons, and the bicep muscles in the arms. Oh, yeah, he will need a large ice pack to soothe his badly damaged balls. 

My other sister was at work on the rear two, of the eight, guys who were trying to take me out. She made a lateral pass behind the stragglers and cut, or severely damaged, the Achilles tendons on at least one leg of each of them. (It is truly amazing how quickly a person collapses when they loose the use of their main lower leg muscle.) After dropping them she carefully damaged the hand of any arm still holding a weapon. She disabled their thumbs by twisting them until they were severely strained. (It is hard to hold a hand weapon if your thumbs aren't operating well. It is almost as hard to effectively use a hand weapon in the less favored hand unless you have practiced to control it that way.)

I was faced with the six guys in front. To my left, my brother had moved out of the bushes and silently started to move in toward the left end of the line of six. I waited until they were about six feet from me. I made it look like I was going to run, which is what they expected me to do. A fraction of a second later I sprang to the right placing myself on the flank of their line in a position opposite that of my brother, effectively forming a pincer movement. In that way we each faced only one club wielding attacker each. As the man facing each of us started to turn ninety degrees, to face our attack from the new direction we attacked their knees. The snapping of the ligaments could actually be heard. Since they had been turning they sort of corkscrewed down to the ground. On the way they each suffered compound fractures of the collarbones corresponding to the arm that held their respective weapons. 

We both pulled back and I spoke again "Four of you are still standing, do you want to quit while you are ahead?" 

At this point three of the four dropped their baseball bats and ran away as fast as they could move. The fourth man reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun. The gun hadn't completely cleared his jacket before his hand was crushed between my brother's teeth. As my brother was doing this my sister was busy slashing his Achilles' tendons. Oh, yeah, he also received a viscous kick to the balls. I truly hope that a good orthopedic surgeon can fix that wrist, but I'm not sure it is fixable. I'm afraid that my brother lost a bit of control and, as I found out later, several of the thug's carpal and metacarpal bones as well as the ends of the ulna and radius were broken into multiple pieces. Even if it can be fixed his wrist will probably ache for the rest of his life.

It was probably less than fifty seconds before they were either running away or on the ground with assorted serious, but non-lethal wounds. Between the six of them, counting the leader, there had to be no fewer than a dozen broken bones, fifteen destroyed joints and every one of them had a set of claw marks that would remain with them the rest of their lives.

My family quickly, and silently, faded into the trees and undergrowth. I had left my car on a seldom used side street that faced the park. We all willed the change and then got into the clothes that we had hidden in the bushes at the edge of the park. After putting on our clothes we put on full motorcycle rain suits, including gloves and slip on boots to prevent blood transfer to the car. The suits and boots were all new and had been purchased by my youngest sister in a city about two hours away from here. She paid cash so there was no record of the sale, except for the clerk's memory. She had also purchased the suits at four different stores so it was unlikely that anyone would take note of one person buying four different rain suits. When we were dressed we all piled into my car and headed out to my brother's home. It took us fifteen minutes to get to his house. (My brother's house has two full bathrooms, which was very handy at this time.) When we arrived at his house, the two girls showered first so that their hair would be dry by the time the police arrived. After they had gotten out we boys showered. My fresh clothes were identical to the ones that I had been wearing at the bar. The rain suits, clothes, and shoes, that we had been wearing were put into my brother's, dual fuel, furnace. In a short time they were reduced to ash.

Half a pizza was taken from the oven and we sat down at the dining room table to "continue" a game of Risk. It was set up so that it indicated that the game had been progressing for quite a while. I picked up my brothers' phone and made a call to 911. 

"Emergency services, Please state your emergency."

"I want to report an attempted mugging."

"Are you in a place of safety so that you can speak without being hurt?"

"Yes, I am."

"O.K. then. Who am I speaking with?"

"My name is Luke Slovenski"

"O.K., Mr. Slovenski, tell me what happened."

"I had gone for a walk in the park with a girl I had just met. Suddenly a group of thugs tried to jump me. I tried to talk my way out of it, but it turned ugly. I ran away, but as I ran it sounded like some form of wild animal attacked at least one of them. I was panic stricken and drove out to my brother's place in case more thugs or animals were around."

"Where did this take place?"

"In the city park."

"When did this happen?"

"About fifty minutes ago."

"Why did you wait so long to call?"

"I was too upset and frightened to call. I needed to get to a place of safety and I needed to stop shaking and get my head together. I'm still very shaken."

"Where are you right now?"

"I'm at my brother's house. It was the only place I could go that I knew I'd be safe."

"What is the address, we need to have an officer talk to you."

"I'm at 2718 East road in Tremansburg."

"An officer will be out to speak to you shortly, please stay where you are until he gets there."

"O.K. I'll do that, and thank you for being there. I'm still shaking."

Upon hanging up I sat down at the table to watch my siblings play Risk. I had a large glass of brandy in front of me. It was about twenty minutes later that a Sheriff's deputy, Jack Frazier, accompanied by a city police detective Mark Fabrizzio, were knocking on the front door. My brother went to answer the door. Moments later he brought the officers into the dining room.

The officers identified themselves.

Detective Mark Fabrizzio spoke, "Are you Luke?"

"Yes I am."

Turning to my brother, Mark asked if they could sit down at the table with us. When they were seated detective Fabrizzio turned to my brother and sisters."

"Oh, Risk, I haven't played that game in years."

One of my sisters, Irene, responded, "About once a month we get together and try to play a full game if Risk, Monopoly, or Canasta. We've been doing this since we were teenagers." 

My other sister, Agatha, chimed in, "yeah but it wasn't quite the same without Luke here as a player".

"From the looks of it this game has been in progress a while. How long did it take to get to this point?"

My brother responded, "I think we started about five thirty. That's when we had the pizzas delivered. We're about half way through the second one at this point."

"Luke, can you tell me what happened? I need to record this to make sure that I don't miss anything for my report."

"No problem detective. I think recording this would be of value for all of us so that we will be able to remember all the questions that were asked. Pete, do you still have that recorder?"

"No Luke, it broke but I have the next best thing I have my camcorder and can put it on the side board so that it can record the conversation."

"Good, please do; oh, you don't mind do you detective?".




The Line



"No, I guess not, but this is definitely not standard. Are you really sure that you want to do it this way?"

"Yes, in fact I will all but insist on it. I have been misquoted by various people over the years and like to have a record of what was said. Memory is such a strange thing, isn't it"

"Yeah, well ... O.K. Let's start."

The officer didn't even seem to notice that the camera picked up both him and me as well as one of those nice "Atomic" clocks that are updated by NIST's (National Institute of Science and Technology) real atomic clock in Fort Collins, Colorado.

"Luke, how come you weren't playing the game with your brother and sisters?"

"I didn't feel up to it tonight. I was feeling a bit down, since I have two friends in the hospital intensive care unit. I decided to try to forget it for a bit and get a drink at a local bar."

"What bar?"

"Kelly's on Park street."

"O.K. go on."

"I ordered a rusty nail and sat there drinking it when a pretty girl came over and started talking with me. She seemed like a nice girl so I was happy to buy her a drink, and talk to her. The conversation got very friendly and she suggested that maybe we could take a walk in the park. I agreed, paid the bartender for our drinks and we walked to the park. She really was very friendly."

"About what time was this?"

"Maybe an hour to 70 minutes before I called you. It took you about twenty minutes to get here so I'd have to guess that it was about ninety minutes ago. I'm not sure but.... Wait, I paid for our drinks with my credit card that transaction will be recorded on their computer and on the receipt. Let me find it." I rummaged around in my pocket, pulling out a mixed mess of papers, money, and my car keys. I knew right were it was, but went through the process of going through some of the papers. It was right there. I handed the slip to the officer.

"It looks like you paid for the drinks about 88 minutes ago. Can you give me the girl's name?"

"She said her name was Nancy Gilbert, or Galberth, or something like that. I can't be sure."

"What did she look like?"

"Let me see, she was about two inches shorter than me so that would make her about five foot three inches or so. She was a brunette with pretty eyes, but I can't remember the color of them. She wasn't overweight but wasn't scrawny either. I can't be sure about her weight."

"What happened then?"

"We entered the park on the corner entrance nearest Kelly's bar. Where the path splits we took the left fork. We weren't in a hurry. We were just enjoying being together. We'd been walking for about four minutes when there was the noise of someone coming up behind us. Having had two friends attacked and put in the hospital I feared the worst. I told Nancy to run for it, thinking I could buy her some time to get away. Boy, was I wrong, it wasn't one person it was several. How many I'm not sure. I sort of think I recognized the voice of the leader, but I can't be at all sure because I was shaking in my shoes. When I heard the leader say something like 'get him' I'm afraid that I turned and ran. As I started to run I could hear what sounded like a large dog, or something, come out of the bushes and go after one of them and that just made me run faster. I ran to where I parked my car, got in and drove here as fast as I safely could. I was shaking so badly I wasn't sure I could keep it on the road.

"Why didn't you park your car in Kelly's parking lot?"

"For a couple of reasons. One; it's sort of habit. I enjoy running and walking, so when I go someplace where I won't need to carry anything back to the car I try to park it so that I can stretch my legs a bit. The second reason is that my car, even if it's old, is a tool that I need to depend on. I didn't want to park it where some drunk might damage it.

When I got here my brother gave me a large glass of brandy to help settle my nerves. Then he reminded me that I needed to report what had happened. That's when I called 911."

"Have the rest of you been here all evening?"

"Yes, officer."

"Is there any way to verify that?"

Pete responded, "I think so, the pizza was delivered at about five thirty. We had started playing just about at the time the delivery was made. None of us have been out since then. You can check that if you want. Our cars are in the driveway. We've been having light showers here and you will find that there should be some dry areas under our cars and the engines are cold. The only car that has run is Luke's." Beside that, do you have any idea how long it takes to get this far along in a game of Risk? We have only half a pizza left and there were only three of us to eat it. I don't know about you, but I can't eat half a pizza by myself in a short period of time."

"O.K., When your brother, Luke, got here how did he seem?"

"He was badly shaken. In fact I can't remember seeing him this shaken before. He is normally an excellent driver, but he even scraped my mailbox on the way into the driveway. Only now, after a good stiff drink, has he stopped shaking. As a side question, why are you concerned about where we have been? It's Luke who was attacked."

"I'm afraid that there is more to it than that. We also got a call from the hospital's emergency room with reports of a serious attack on a group of people in the park at about the same time you say people were after you. Several of those people are being kept in the hospital and they all say that Luke is the one who hurt them." 

My brother, Pete, jumped into the conversation, "You're joking, right? Did I hear you say that several people all claim that Luke attacked them? Even if Luke were a violent person, which he definitely is not, he couldn't take on a group. It could make sense only if they were all four feet tall and weak but if they weren't how could one five foot five inch person go after a group? This has got to be some sort of a sick joke. What kind of weapon did they say they were attacked with?"

"It's no joke! But, here is where it gets very strange. They claim that he sliced them with some kind of edged weapon. The EMTs were quite steadfast in their claim that the wounds were from a large animal not a weapon. The wounds all started out with a puncture followed by a ripping action. There were no smooth sharp edges according to the emergency people. To sort this out, we would like to get the clothes and shoes you are wearing Luke. That much blood can't be shed without getting it on whoever did it. We would also like to take your car to look for trace evidence of blood."

"Hey, Pete, can I borrow some clothes and shoes and can you give me a ride back to school tomorrow morning? I'm not legal to drive now and really want company tonight."

"Sure Luke. I'll get you some clothes and slippers so they can have the shoes as well. Is that acceptable to you, officer?"

"Yes, I suppose it is. Luke, are you willingly allowing us to take the clothes and car for investigation?"

"Yes, if it will help to clear this up. I'll have you sign a receipt for the car and clothes and allow you to investigate them for the next few days; however by the beginning of next week I will need the car back. Pete, can you draft a quick release for me?"

"Sure thing Luke. I don't have my notary seal or boiler plate forms here but I can give you a legally binding conditional hand written release in about ten minutes."

The detective, Mark Fabrizzio, suddenly seemed to take a renewed interest, "Pete, are you a notary?"

"Yes, as an attorney I've found it useful to be able to notarize papers that need to be signed by clients."

"I don't remember hearing your name before."

"That's probably because I do my work over in Smithton. Most of my work is civil. I did some criminal work at first, but I didn't like it. Too often I found myself successfully defending people I later learned were truly guilty. I won't do that again!"

During this conversation I had gone into the other room to change. Upon returning I said, "Here are the clothes, underwear and shoes and car key, officer. Be careful with the old car, it's all the transportation I have until I graduate and get a job." 

"Thank you Luke. I imagine anyone who was involved in as viscous a fight, as seemed to have happened in the park, would have picked up scrapes and bruises. Would you mind taking off your shirt and rolling up your pants so that I can see if you have recent bruises, scrapes, or cuts?"

"No problem Mark, but I'll simply strip down to undershorts. These folks are, after all, my brother and sisters." Having said that I stripped down to my shorts and turned slowly around for the detective to get a good look.

"I sure don't see any signs of bruising. You are obviously in very good shape. What kind of exercise do you do to keep so fit?"

"I run a lot and enjoy calisthenics. I find it to be a nice way to get the cobwebs out of my mind when I have been studying too intensely. I suspect the fact that I'm a good runner is what kept me from getting badly hurt tonight. Do you have any other questions for us?"

"No, I don't think so; however, I would appreciate it if you would not go any further from your dorm than you are right now, until we have the investigation wrapped up. Here is my business card. If you remember any other details please phone me."

"Detective, as a side thought, is it possible that the people who were after me attacked my friends who are in the hospital? Is someone looking at that possibility? Have Mary Wright and Jeff Smith, my friends in the hospital, gotten well enough to provide statements yet? Maybe the attack on them, the attempted attack on me, and the attack on these other people are somehow related."

"We have someone working on that. We will be in touch." 

Pete got up and escorted the detective and the sheriff's deputy to the door. When he returned I motioned to them to be still. Going to my overnight bag, which was stashed under the bed I was going to use, I retrieved a field strength meter, a.k.a. an r.f. sniffer. I turned it on and compared the levels to those I had recorded earlier in the evening. I then started to talk about various trivia while taking the readings again. It appeared that no r.f. "bugs", and no voice activated r.f. bugs, had been left behind. Next I took a multimeter and went to the phone. I checked to make sure that the line potential was still at 48V and that the phone was drawing the same current that it had earlier that day, when it was taken off hook. I informed my siblings "I don't see any sign of "bugs". Of course I'd need readings from a time domain reflectometer to be sure, but my bet is that the line is clear. It was a long shot that they could have gotten a court order to allow one in this short a time; but I would rather be safe than sorry!"

* * * * * *

On the way back to town the two lawmen were in conversation. 

"Mark, how are you going to reconcile the story that the guys at the hospital are telling and what we just saw and heard?"

"I don't know Jack. I know that park. I was there to look over the spot those other kids were jumped and the light there is minimal. In the dark, without a flashlight, I couldn't identify anyone by sight. There are several other things that I find bothersome. According to the kids who went into the hospital tonight the attack took place so fast that they couldn't keep track of the attacker, or attackers. From what I have heard of their injuries I don't see how one person could do what was done. I also don't see what weapon could be used that would create the kind of wounds that have been reported."

"Mark, you know that I checked the car hoods before we went up to the house to see if they had been run. The only car that was run is Luke's. I'm not normally a betting man, but I would be willing to wager that we will find no trace of blood in the car or on the kid's clothes. There is another thing. I know, by reputation, some of the kids who are reported to be at the hospital. They are a rough group and would have much longer rap sheets if they didn't have family members who have a lot of "pull" with the city government.. Based just upon their reputation, I would have no trouble believing that they were the instigators of whatever happened. But, I can't think of any way to make the evidence we see in front of us make any sense at all."

"Yeah, I'm in the same boat. Let's hold off any judgment until the forensic team gets to look over that car and those clothes."

*  

The manila envelope landed on Mark Fabrizzio's desk at about 10 a.m. the following morning. There were three preliminary finding sheets and about a dozen 8x10 photographs enclosed. The photographs showed some of the kid's wounds. It didn't take an expert to recognize that the wounds shown were the results of a large animal attack. Some of the claw wounds were two inches deep, according to the notes on the back of the photos. The doctor made special care to include a copy of the X-ray of the wrist clipped to a photograph of the wrist of one of the wounded. It showed one, and only one, bite mark on the wrist but the internal damage showed that most of the small bones in the wrist had been fractured and the end of both the ulna and radius were both badly splintered. The doctor had noted that he had never seen this much damage from a bite. To Mark, it was obvious that no college kid did this. Mark then turned to the preliminary forensic reports. The first one he looked at came from the forensic medical examiner's examination of the wounds inflicted on the men who were admitted to the hospital the previous evening. The contents were unsettling. It contained words like "...the spacing of bite marks is far too wide for any known dog breed except English Mastiff...", "....the lacerations are characteristic of a large animal attack...", and "...the force exerted on the damaged joints that have been reviewed so far exceed those caused even by the average trained martial arts students...". These facts seemed to rule out the sworn statements of the injured men and that of the girl , Nancy Gilbert.

The second sheet from the envelope was just about as confusing as the first. According to the forensics team the use of luminol on the clothes that belonged to that kid, Luke, showed no signs of blood. The clothes were also reviewed to make sure that they had been recently worn. What was found consisted of normal daily dirt and dust, a few hairs and sweat deposits. Again, it would have been impossible for someone to have caused the damage that had been done without picking up some blood.

The third sheet from the envelope was the initial forensics report on the car. There were two major conclusions. One, there were no traces of blood in the car. Two, it was obvious that the car hadn't been cleaned in a while. 

Detective Fabrizzio decided to wander into Detective Jim Wood's office. "Hey Jim, you're handling the attacks on Mary Wright and Jeff Smith, aren't you?"

"Yeah, do you have something new for me?"

"No, but I wanted to know if you had looked at the possibility that there was some sort of linkage between last night's attacks and those on Wright and Smith."

"I've been thinking about that all morning, Mark. The only connection I've been able to think of, I can't prove. Knowing some of the kids who ended up in the emergency room, last night, I would suspect that they would be perfect suspects for the beatings of Wright and Smith. Unfortunately, Wright has been unable to definitely identify who beat her. Smith is now out of his coma, but the docs are still unsure if he will be mentally o.k. after the beating he took. At this time his memory is very poor." 

"I'm at a loss on how to get a firm identification of the attackers. It would make sense to me that the kids brought into the emergency room last night were the aggressors, but they all are telling the same story. What they haven't been able to tell me is why eleven guys were wandering around the park carrying baseball bats at that time. It was too dark for baseball and they had no ball or gloves. Obviously that had other uses in mind for those bats! The bartender has, reluctantly, given us a statement that they left the bar as a group. The bartender told me that he is concerned for his safety. He says that anyone who crosses any of the guys in that group, gets hurt. He doesn't want trouble, but he is very concerned about the things going on in the park. The park is awfully close to his bar and he doesn't want to loose customers because of a group of thugs.. Tell me about the kid who phoned about the attempted mugging."

"This is going to be a strange one Jim. I've checked with the school and found out that this kid is really something. He is taking some of the hardest courses the school has to offer, and is running a 3.95 average. His teachers say he is polite and has never shown aggressive tendencies. He is considered to be considerate and honest. Neither his car nor clothes show any signs of blood and, except for the girl who led him to the park, we can't identify anyone who might have been with him in the park last night.

His story checks out with the bartender. The girl he was with admitted that he did tell her to run to safety when it was obvious that others were tailing them. He high tailed it to his brother's house, he says for safety, after the attempted attack on him. I can't fault him for that; however, the alibi presented by his brother and sisters seems almost too perfect. Of course, the fact that his brother is an attorney may be responsible for his answering so clearly and completely. When was the last time you knew of someone demanding a signed receipt for a car and clothes that we needed to check in the forensics lab? The other funny thing is that when I asked to tape the interview, he said that he would also tape it. His brother supplied a video camera and it ran during the interview. It wasn't until we were ready to leave that I noticed that there was one of those large faced "atomic clocks" behind us with both time and date showing on it. That tape, if kept by the brother, is first class evidence. Oh, before I forget it, here are the photos of the damage to the kids who showed up in the emergency room last night. It is obvious that the wounds are not the result of an attack by a human. There are very few animals capable of inflicting such wounds and most of them don't live anywhere near here." 

"Mark, what did you say the lawyer's name was?"

"Pete Slovenski, why?

"Man!, I've heard about him. According to my brother, who's a cop in Smithton, that guy is as sharp as tacks and as honest as anyone he's ever met. The police, over there, have a lot of respect for him. You know, he stopped practicing criminal law after he found out that he had successfully defended a guy against a charge of murder and then later found out that the guy was really guilty. He said he would never again defend criminals for fear of getting a guilty one off the hook. I've heard tell that when he graduated from law school that the U.S.Justice Department, the state attorney general's office and half a dozen large corporations wanted him to join them. He turned them all down and settled for a small private practice. He's not into the law to make money, and that is very unusual."

"Yeah, that must be him. I'm now stuck with eleven people, that I don't think I can trust to tell me the time of day, saying one thing; and, Luke, one individual that I really want to believe, saying the other. To add to the complication, the forensic evidence seems to say that Luke is telling the truth. The baseball bats all had the fingerprints of one of the gang on them. But, if Luke is telling the truth and the forensic evidence is correct we may have a very dangerous animal on the prowl. But that doesn't make any sense either. We haven't received any reports of livestock or pets being mauled by some beast. I need to think this one over. It promises to be a real puzzler."




The Line



"I hear you, Mark. I'm going to check with Mary Wright and see if she can remember the sound of the voice of the leader of the group that attacked her. I've made copies of the taped statements of the people who accused Luke. If she thinks that she can remember the voice I'll play her a small section of the interviews of each of Luke's accusers. Maybe there is a tie in here. If not, we won't have lost anything."

"Oh, and another thing Jim: there is one other item that I need to make you aware of. I also have another piece of forensic evidence that has me a bit confused. There was a 9mm pistol found at the scene of the attack in the park. The prints on the gun belong to the kid who's wrist was so badly broken. He doesn't have a pistol permit. The gun's serial number indicates that it is the service weapon issued to chief of police Riley!"

"Phew! Run that by me again. Are you saying that one of the kids who was chewed up last night was carrying an illegal concealed weapon that belongs to Chief Riley?"

"In a nut shell, yes! To add to the confusion I should tell you that this kid is the Chief Riley's son. He has a minor rap sheet but that is only because his father has pulled all sorts of strings to sidestep some of the problems he has put himself in. The kid has a wicked temper and is widely known as a bully."

"Are you charging him for the weapons violation?"

"That is still an open question. Chief Riley has already started to pull strings to try to hush this up. I'm due for retirement next year and can't afford to lose it. But, at the same time, I think that this gun fits into the attack. After all, the chief's son is the only kid with permanent damage; and that damage is to the wrist of the hand that was holding the gun!"

"That makes the attack to his arm sound like it was done by someone who understood the danger posed by the gun. That wouldn't be a wild animal."

"Yeah, I know. But then we're faced with an attack that can only have been done by an animal and this animal needs to be able to analyze the risks presented by the pistol. This gets very confusing very rapidly. "

"You said a mouthful, Jim. I've got to get busy now. I'm going to put together a time line to try to test out Luke's story. I don't think that there's a problem with it, but I've got to check it out. Let me know if you find anything that would help with my case and I'll keep you informed of anything that might be relevant to yours."

"Sounds good! I'm tempted to quietly talk to the district commander for the State Police about this gun issue. It is a state offense, and if they come in asking for evidence we'll have to give it to them."

* * * * * *



Jim Wood was ushered to the bedside of Mary Wright by an ICU nurse. 

"You have five minutes detective, unless I see Mary's vital signs changing in the wrong direction. Be gentle in your questioning."

"I'll try to keep from upsetting her."

The nurse turned to Mary and said, "Mary, this gentlemen is a police detective who is trying to find out who did this to you. Do you feel up to answering a few questions?"

Mary opened her eyes and after a moment's pause said "yes, I think so".

Detective Wood spoke. "I'm sorry to have to ask you these questions, but I need some information that you may not remember if I wait for another week or two. I want you to think back to the night of the attack. Can you remember the voice of the leader of the gang that did this to you?"

"I think so, officer."

"Mary, I would like to play a short section of tape for you. It has several different people talking, one after the other. Please listen to the tape and stop me if you hear the voice."

"O.K. I can't promise that I can recognize the voice, but I will give it my best shot."

Jim Wood pressed the button on the tape recorder. One voice after another, identified by Jim's own voice calling off an index number to identify each voice, came from the small recorder. At the fifth voice Mary opened her eyes widely and said "that's him!".

Jim was about to have her listen again, just to make sure, when the ICU nurse came over and said: "Detective, you need to stop - now! Her pulse rate just took a major jump. If her blood pressure goes up too far there is a chance of new internal bleeding. You must leave now."

"I'll go right away. Thank you Mary, I'm sorry to have upset you."

Mary had no response because by that time the nurse had already hit the button on the morphine drip pump, sending a bolus of the drug into her system. She slowly closed her eyes and her heart rate monitor showed her pulse slowly slowing down.

* * * * * *

Detective Wood went straight to Detective Fabrizzio's office.

"Mark, we've got a hit!" Mary Wright recognized the voice of the one who led the group that beat her. It's number five on my tape and that voice belongs to Bud Lisk, the son of Frank Lisk, the owner of Lisk's Food Mart. I did some double checking and his wounds are different from most of those suffered by the rest of the group that went to the emergency room last night. He had both Achilles' tendons and the attachments for both biceps cut loose, effectively crippling him. He's the only one who had both arms and both legs disabled. We now have an attacking animal who could identify the danger of a firearm and pick out the leader of the group. This is some animal. If I believed in the stuff attributed to the traditional monsters I would have to guess that we had a werewolf on our hands. Now, don't get me wrong; I'm not seriously suggesting that we have a werewolf. But if such a creature existed, it would explain all the facts that we have in front of us."

"Now that you mention it, it would. But, of course, there are no such animals. Or, should I say there are no such animals as portrayed in most stories that talk about them."

"I think we need to place an armed police guard in the hospital ICU. We can't let anything happen to our star witness in the first mugging."

"Mark, I need to get certified copies of the finger print evidence, the pistol serial number and photo, and the doctor's report on the Chief's son. I need to get them very quietly so that the request can't be traced to me. How would you go about doing that?"

"I see where you are headed. Don't go after them yourself. If I get the evidence identification numbers corresponding to each of those items I could bring them to a friend of mine in the state police. If we get a request from them, say later today, the chief won't have had time enough to make the evidence disappear. Write the numbers down for me and I'll clue my friend in on our problem. It would be different if our internal affairs group wasn't chaired by Chief Riley. But, since it is, we need to go outside to make this work. I'll bet we can approach this from the point of view of a corrupt city official. After all, it is against state law to interfere with police operations; even if you are the chief."

* * * * * *

Captain Henry Murphy was a twenty-five year veteran of the state police. He had started out as a patrol officer and moved up steadily; based upon excellent police work and exceptional people skills. He was a bit surprised to find Mark Fabrizzio in his office.

"Hi Mark, what brings you here? Is it a social call, or is it work related?"

Mark shut the captain's office door and said; "Henry, in this particular case this is a visit that never happened. You have not seen or heard from me recently! This is about as "hush hush" as things can get. Can we work on that basis?"

"I think so, Mark. What is so sensitive that you are here under these conditions?"

"We have a situation, Henry. Our internal affairs group is chaired by a person who has made evidence vanish in the past and we have a hot one on our hands right now!"

"What have you got?

"The other night there was an attack, and an attempted attack, in the park. One of the wounded kids is the son of our Chief Riley. He had the chief's sidearm in his possession at the site of the fight, and he doesn't have a pistol permit. This kid has been in trouble before but Chief Riley has made it clear that any trouble must turn into a verbal report to him; with no records kept in the kid's file. This kid is dangerous and he'll walk if we don't get the information to someone who can do something about it. I can't go to the sheriff because he's a "drinking buddy" of the chief. I have the case number and evidence list here. This is your copy. If someone were to ask for copies of the evidence, very soon, maybe justice will be done."

There was a long pause and then Henry said; "It's funny you should bring that subject up. Hold on a minute."

Henry Murphy picked up the phone and made a brief call. Moments later another man came into the office.

"Mark, this is Detective John Hughes. Please tell him what you just told me."

The information was repeated and the discussion continued for about ten minutes. At the end of that time Henry handed the list of the evidence that he was supposed to get to Detective Hughes; and, told him to get a hold of their contact in the Attorney General's office. 

"Mark, you haven't been here. We haven't seen you. And there is an investigation going on that your department knows nothing about. Your information may be the key we need to finish this case. Whatever you do, do not mention this discussion even to your wife. Our very important case may have just been cracked by your request for help. There will be a subpoena delivered for this information this afternoon, probably right after lunch. Again, you know nothing, have seen nothing, and will say nothing until I tell you otherwise. Is that clear?"

"It couldn't be clearer Henry, Thanks!!"

* * * * * *

Detective John Hughes arrived at the police station at just about half past one, that afternoon. With him was deputy attorney general Al Moore representing their state's political corruption department. Al was heading up the investigation of what appeared to be major corruption in the local city government. Detective Hughes and the attorney headed directly to the property/evidence vault. When they arrived they found Jerry Brown, the clerk, doing a crossword puzzle.

"Officer Brown, this is a subpoena for the following evidence. We will wait here while you bring us the originals and will notarize the copies you will make while we are present."

"Whoa there, I need Chief Riley's permission to do this; let me call him."

"Officer Brown, I should let you know right now that anyone who delays or tries to block this subpoena will be arrested on the spot and charged with obstructing justice. I will repeat what I have said; "We will wait here while you bring us the originals and will notarize the copies you will make while we are present. You will not call Chief Riley."

Officer Brown, looking a little pale, called detective Jim Wood and told him to bring the entire package of evidence down to him immediately. He had hardly hung up the phone when Jim walked into the room carrying a thick manila folder.

"Here they are Jerry, what's the hurry?" 

Detective Hughes held up the subpoena and spoke up "The hurry is that we have a subpoena for that evidence. We will stand here with you and officer Brown while copies are made of this material. We will notarize them and then be out of your way."

Without any discussion Jim handed the folder to Detective Hughes. The file's contents, except for the X-Ray (which was a copy of the original at the hospital), were copied and the deputy attorney general notarized them. Added to the file was a copy of the subpoena and an official letter indicating that only those files that had been notarized by the attorney general's staff were to be allowed into evidence. Newly discovered evidence was exempted from this requirement, but the letter specified the address to which official copies of such new evidence must be sent.

Officer Brown was now looking very pale. 

"Officer Brown we are going to see the chief now. Do not phone him to let him know that we are coming up. Do you understand?"

All Jerry Brown could do was nod his head in agreement. He sat down before his rubbery legs made him fall down. He knew that this was not going to be a good day.

* * * * * *

Chief Riley was at his desk when detective Hughes and the deputy attorney general from the state's political corruption department arrived. He cordially invited them in and asked them to sit. 

The chief then asked the obvious question, "What can I do for you folks today, or is this just a social visit?".

Detective Hughes spoke first; "Chief Riley, this is deputy attorney general Moore. Moments ago we served a subpoena for some evidence that was recently collected, by your department. Your evidence room clerk wanted to call you first but we ordered him not to. Attorney Moore will continue telling you what is going on.

Deputy Attorney General Moore spoke: "Chief Riley, we are investigating a set of serious allegations. In order to find the truth we need to collect information that has been uncontaminated. Part of this evidence may involve the personal files of the leadership of your department. We have brought along special seals, from the attorney general's office, and, as we speak, the files of everyone above the rank of detective are being sealed. You will be able to access these files only with a representative of the attorney general's office present. In the next few minutes an auditing team with representatives from the state police and attorney general's office will be here to start sifting through the information in your files. At this very moment a similar team is starting to go through the files of the city Judge, the mayor, and the sheriff. We have credible reasons to believe that there have been several crimes committed, in this city, that have not been treated per state law. We also are very sure that influence peddling has been going on. Do you have any questions?"

Chief Riley looked like he was going to explode. He got up and was almost yelling: "Upon who's authority are you doing this? Heads will roll when I start calling friends. How dare you come in here and insinuate that I am not doing my job correctly? How ... "

"Hold it chief, this investigation has been personally authorized by both the governor of the state and the Attorney General of the state. Do you have some higher friends who will override them?"

The chief stared at them with unconcealed hatred.

"Well, since you now understand where things stand we will start sealing your files. Oh, by the way, another group is retrieving all your files from home. Don't feel singled out the city Judge and the sheriff are being relieved of their files as well. If you don't think you can go along with this the governor has already signed the paperwork to allow us to replace you with a custodial chief while the investigation is going on. Oh, and one more thing, you are not to leave the state until this matter is cleared up. Do you understand?"

"Get out of my office. You do not have the right to do this..."

Detective Hughes broke in; "Chief Riley, you are now in custody of the state police. Here is the court order that authorizes your confinement to house arrest at your residence. You may not take anything from this office with you, except for your clothes and what is in your pockets (after we have seen what's in your pockets that is). And, by the way, you will be wearing an electronic bracelet to assure that you are obeying this court order."

Chief Riley didn't say another word, but if looks could kill, both of his "visitors" would have been dead.

* * * * * *

After dealing with the chief, Attorney Moore collected the files that his subordinates had been gathering. With the evidence in Attorney Moore's SUV Detective Hughes and Attorney Moore left the city police station and started the drive back to the state police barracks. Attorney Moore spoke first; "Since it is late Friday we need to store this evidence someplace safe for the weekend. It has to be secure so that we can attest to the unbroken nature of the evidence custody trail when we need the evidence in court." (Note to reader: If, at any time, evidence has been out from under direct control/protection of police (or judicial) authorities it is possible that it could have been "tainted" or "corrupted". As such, unprotected/uncontrolled evidence is not readily admissible in most criminal legal actions.) "I have a safe at home but it isn't big enough and even if it were I wouldn't trust evidence in it since my wife and son both know the combination. I don't want to drive sixty miles to get back to my office tonight. Since I only live twenty miles from here. Do you have a safe or locking filing cabinet where evidence can be secured, for the weekend?"

"Sure thing, Al, beside having an evidence room we always have an officer on duty round the clock. Not only will it be secured, it will have a chain of witnesses that nobody removed it from the evidence room during the night or weekend. The only thing I am concerned about is that the room is neither a true safe nor fireproof enclosure. As you know our police barracks is basically a frame house that has been modified for our uses. The inclusion of a walk in vault wasn't high on anyone's priority list when the place was built. If you think that is o.k. for this weekend you can store the documents in our evidence room."

"It sounds good to me, John. I will feel much better when this evidence is safely locked away."

* * * * * *

Chief Riley arrived home a half hour after the meeting with John Hughes and Al Moore. He immediately went to his den, locked the door, poured himself a stiff drink, and called Judge Henry Goodwin.

"Hi Henry, we have a problem. I lost my temper and am now confined to my house with an electronic bracelet on to make sure I stay here. My visitors this afternoon were from the state police and the attorney general's office. There is enough evidence in the papers that they took with them to put all of us in deep trouble. I understand that they hit your office too. What evidence did they get from you?"

"Not as much as they would like. I've always been a bit paranoid, so I keep a safe at an apartment (over in Smithton). I rent it under another name. You know the place, we occasionally have our parties over there. The girls we get think we live in the Smithton area, and I'm happy to keep it that way. What have they gotten from you?"

The discussion went on for several more minutes. As the description of the evidence wound down Chief Tom Riley asked: "How are we going to fix this problem?"

"Well, Tom; I am not going to sit by and be sent to prison. I think we need some serious damage control. You indicated that it was attorney Al Moore who was in your office today. I know Al. He lives about twenty miles from here. My bet is that he will have the evidence put into the state police barracks here, rather than drive sixty miles to his office and sixty miles back again. He lives "out in the boonies". I think our best bet is to destroy the evidence that they got, and make sure that Al will never tell anyone what he knows. I have some contacts that you should be glad you don't know about. I'm going to have Al, and the state police barracks taken care of. I'll let you know if I need anything from you. For the moment you need to stay put and don't talk to anyone about what has happened.. That includes your wife!"

* * * * * *

Judge Goodwin's wife had divorced him ten years earlier. The Judge's main problems consisted of being a "control freak", and holding things so close to him that even his wife suspected that she really didn't know him. All information had to flow to the Judge and all decisions had to come from him. His wife finally decided that this wasn't a marriage, she was there as a cook, housekeeper, and company in bed. The Judge didn't want children. This had always bothered her until divorce became the reasonable option. She had filed for divorce over in Smithton so that he couldn't quash the effort. The Judge didn't seem to care. In fact, the Judge did care. He was ecstatic about being single again. He wouldn't have to hide his real dealings from his wife.




The Line



Judge Goodwin thought over Chief Riley's phone call for a few minutes and decided to call Frank Lisk, owner of Lisk's Food Mart. Frank had always provided large donations to the election funds of Sheriff Matt Damon, Judge Goodwin and Mayor Lawrence Talbot. The trio also had controlling interest in Frank Lisk's more lucrative businesses which included dealing in counterfeit and/or stolen merchandise and running a loansharking operation.

Judge Goodwin got in his car and drove to the local strip mall. There was a phone booth located far enough from the stores so that he could see if anyone was approaching him. He dialed the number from memory. 

"Hello, Frank here."

"Frank, this is Henry Goodwin. Can you talk?"

"Not now, my wife has friends over. Can it wait?"

"No! This has to be done fast. Find an excuse to go out for a new box of cigars or such and meet me near the new strip mall. I need to see you within the next ten minutes or so."

"O.K. if it has to be that fast I'll be there."

"I'll be parked near the pay phone, pull in next to me I'll get in your truck and we'll take a short drive."

"O.K., see you in ten."

Seven minutes later Henry Goodwin climbed into Frank's truck. They drove out of town along a long straight back road.

"What's so important, Henry?"

The Judge filled him in on what had happened that afternoon. "Chief Riley is really dumb. He kept all sorts of papers at home that could burn us. We've got to get rid of the evidence, that damned attorney Moore, and the chief."

"You're going to kill the chief?" The tone in Frank's voice didn't fully betray his concern. 

"We've got to. As close as I can figure the incident that formed the trigger for this raid was the chief's attempt to cover up his kid's use of his service weapon."

"What?"

"Yeah, the other night when your son Bud led his little group out to try to teach that geeky kid a lesson, the chief's son brought along the chief's 9mm Glock. When the kid tried to draw the weapon he was attacked. The police found the weapon on the ground, with the kids finger prints all over it. The chief was in the process of trying to make the evidence disappear when the State Police and Attorney Moore showed up"

"Who's investigating that case?"

"Sheriff's deputy, Jack Frazier and city police detective Mark Fabrizzio."

"Damn!!! those guys have been a thorn in our flesh for years. They can't be bought, they don't get involved in questionable fun, and they take the law seriously. Now I see why we need to do some serious stuff. But, why the chief?

"We both know him, he's never been a real cop. He'll cave in the first time they put pressure on him and then we will be in deep water. He's the only one who was stupid enough to keep incriminating evidence around. He's got to go."

"O.K. I can live with that. What do I need to do?"

"In some ways your job is relatively easy. We need to destroy the evidence room at the police headquarters. I know just how it has to happen. You will need to use your son's gang, or other trustworthy small group, and what I will provide. Meet me at your store an hour after you drop me off back at my car."

"O.k. I can do that."

An hour later the Judge entered Frank Lisk's Food Mart. He searched the isles for something until there were no customers who could see him. He then went to Frank Lisk's office. 

"Frank, here is a small package that you will need. It contains a floor layout of the police station, a schedule of what goes on during the graveyard shift, a key to the back entrance to the station and a key to the property room. The police budget hasn't been very good for many years. I know, as a matter of fact, that the alarm circuit that includes the back door doesn't work. They have avoided spending anything to get it fixed since it isn't considered to be much of a threat. Do you still have that stuff your kid's gang looted from the army depot last year? You know the stuff, it included thermite and demolition charges?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, tomorrow morning, between 4:00 am and 4:30 am, you, and a group of your choosing, will enter the police station and take out the one cop who will be on duty. When that is taken care of you will take all of the thermite and demolition charges, except one of each, to the evidence room. The police budget has never been rich enough to buy fire resistant filing cabinets, they are simply average office ones. Make sure that the ones with dates that cover the last five years have charges on top of them. Use the other charges wherever you think the most damage can be done. The last charge is to be taken down to the furnace room. The police department furnace is an oil fired unit. The tanks for the oil are in the basement. The last thermite and demolition units go there. The thermite goes on top of the tank and the demolition charge goes under the tank Set them for simultaneous firing. Have one of your guys cut the copper tube that comes out the bottom of the tank. On notice that the evidence room guys are ready; cut the padlock and chain from the water valve for the sprinkler system and turn off the water to the sprinklers. Then set your timer and leave. Now, this is important; do not shut the basement or evidence room doors! The fire will need as much oxygen as it can get. You might even open a rear window on your way out of the station. Can you do that?"

"Yeah, I guess I can. How do I cover my ass in case something goes wrong?" 

"Make sure nothing goes wrong! That is not an option. No living witnesses are allowed. When you are ready to leave the station, put the map, keys, and the guns you use under one of the thermite charges. We must remove that evidence. Oh, one other thing, I need fifty pounds of C4 and some caps; and I need them yesterday. Can you provide them?"

"No, but I do have some RDX. Nasty stuff. I don't like the sounds of what I am hearing."

"Too bad, we're in too deep to back out now. Get me the caps and RDX. Put them inside my boat house near the 55 gallon fuel tank."

* * * * * *

Two hours later Judge Goodwin called the sheriff's nephew, Ted Smith. Ted, a corrupt member of the city's bomb squad had grown used to a life of affluence. As a retired Army Green Beret his military training was excellent. He was at the expert level with most weapons and really knew his way around explosives. Most important was the fact that Ted owed the Judge a big favor. The Judge arranged to have evidence disappear that would have given Ted Smith a long prison term. (Ted had used explosives to get rid of his adulterous wife's boy friend.)

"Hi Ted, this is Henry Goodwin, I need a few big favors from you. Do you think you could help me?"

"Well, I don't know what you want, but I assume I can do whatever it is. What's needed?"

The Judge brought Ted up to speed. He told him where the evidence was that had to disappear and he told him who had to die.

"Whew! That is a full plate. How long do I have?"

"The evidence room has to go early tomorrow morning. But the death's of Al Moore and the chief have to happen tonight. Fortunately they both live out of town where there will be no street lights. I've got something that will help you with the State Police barracks job. I have a set of keys to the police department's old pickup truck. It runs and will do the job. With the other things that are going on tonight it will be good to use. I'd suggest that you arrange the fireworks for after four in the morning. I have my speedboat in a small boathouse down on Lake Carlopa. Inside the boat house is a 55 gallon drum of gasoline. I have a track mounted hoist that runs from the double doors at the driveway directly over to the boat. Halfway along is the cradle that holds the gas. I also have about fifty pounds of RDX and some caps. Use the police department's pickup and get the fuel, and I'll have the explosives waiting there for you right near the gasoline. By the time you have the stolen pickup it will be waiting for you."

"O.K. I can do that."

"The evidence storage room at the State Police barracks is on the right rear corner of the building. It is located directly next to the communications/watch officer's office. Conveniently the building is a frame structure as opposed to reinforced concrete or brick and mortar. The watch officer will probably die in this attack, but that's the way it goes. Now, the two people who need to die this weekend are Attorney Al Moore and police Chief Riley."

Can you tell me where Attorney Moore lives?"

"Yes; Moore should be shot and the house burned down to delay the discovery that it was a murder scene. As for Riley he might as well get the same treatment as Attorney Moore. Re-using a simple effective plan is sometimes good policy."

"O.K. I'm on the clock, have those explosives ready for me."

"You got it!"

* * *

It was Friday evening and Al Moore was sitting in his living room with his wife. Living out in the country, he didn't usually bother to close the living room drapes. He was hit with a round from a high powered rifle directly above the left eye.. As his wife ran over to him, she received a fatal shot. The sniper approached the house and turned the propane tank's main valve off so that no gas could flow. He entered the house and closed the living room drapes. He then placed three lit candles on the floor in the living room, between the bodies and the front window. Moments later he cut the propane line going to the stove.. After leaving the house he turned on the propane valve at the tank and left the area at a sedate, speed. Nobody would ever remember seeing his vehicle, which was stolen anyway. Minutes later the house is an inferno.

Chief Riley never knew what hit him. He was sitting at his computer, in his study, looking at porn on the internet when the bullet took off the top of his head. When his wife cam in to see what the noise was all about, she took a shot in the center of her chest. Within seconds she was dead. Chief Riley was a gun collector. He also liked to shoot black powder weapons. Instead of having a proper powder magazine outside the house he stored a twenty-five pound container of XXX black powder in his basement. A time delayed squib was placed in his twenty-five pound black powder container. When the explosion occurred, there was little left of the center part of the house. 

Chief Riley's temper and sloppiness would not get the Judge into further trouble. The chief's son was safe since he was still in the hospital and he knew nothing about most of the chief's illegal activities.

* * * * * *

The watch officer, at the State Police barracks, had just gotten himself a fresh cup of coffee and was looking forward to enjoying one of his wife's wonderful cinnamon raisin rolls. He had an f.m. radio on and was listening to Rachmaninoff's Second Piano Concerto. He never knew what hit him. Ted had driven quietly into the parking lot, and moved the stolen truck so that its open bed was backed up almost directly to the corner of the building. Four shaped charges made in number ten cans were placed against the two walls that met at the corner. A heavy shaped charge was also placed directly behind the 55 gallon drum. The charges were set so that the shaped charges on the walls would go off twenty milliseconds before the main charge behind the open 55 gallon drum. There was a remote trigger for the explosives made from an inexpensive cellular phone. There was also a mechanical timer set for ten minutes, just in case the phone trigger didn't work. Ted moved directly back on the state police property, crossed the property line onto a vacant lot, and was picked up by the Judge who was driving Ted's car.

When they were a mile away, Ted made a phone call. 

"Damn, that is some fireball, observed the Judge."

"Well, you wanted it done right, it is as right as can be done on this short a notice."

The watch officer was dead before the inferno started. As it would happen, the first shaped charge lined up with a small metal object in the evidence room and the watch officer at his desk.. The detonation drove that metal directly through his head.

* * * 

Frank Lisk had made the necessary calls. He didn't want to use his son's friends. Too many of them liked to do drugs, drink, and brag. No talkers were wanted for this job. None of the people he called really wanted to get involved with the night's work. However, in the end they agree to help him destroy the city police's evidence and furnace rooms. Masked and wearing dark clothing they entered the police department at 4:15am. Using a stolen weapon, the desk sergeant was shot where he sat. The group then split and moved both to the evidence room and the furnace room. They open the evidence room door using key provided by the Judge. When they determined the location of the files that they need, they placed their incendiary devices on those filing cabinets and called down to the group in the furnace room. In the furnace room, where the oil line had already been cut, the sprinkler valve was turned off and then the timer for the thermite and demolition packages were set for a delay of five minutes. Both the group from the basement and the group from the evidence room carefully blocked open those rooms respective doors, opened all the rear windows in the building, and then left via the back door which they locked behind them. Within twenty minutes the entire administrative section of the police department was engulfed in flames. It was only due to the heroic action of the fire and rescue people that the few vagrants and drunks in the jail had their lives spared.

* * * * * *

It was 7p.m. the night after the destruction of the police evidence room, the state police barracks, and the murders of Al Moore and Chief Riley. In John Hughes' living room a meeting was taking place. 

Present were: John Hughes, Jim Wood, Mark Fabrizzio, and Jack Frazier 

John Hughes was speaking; "Gentlemen, as you know, we have a problem. Not only have we lost some friends, a major corruption case is now almost assuredly down the drain. At the minimum, the key attorney and the critical evidence have been destroyed. You three represent the uncorrupted portion of your organizations. We cannot depend upon most of the rest of the city police force, since we don't know who has been and who has not been compromised. We can't depend upon the rest of the Sheriff's department for the same reason. To top it off, we have a city Judge who is still in power who we believe to be ready and able to throw every legal maneuver possible in our path. In your opinion, Mark, what do you think we should do? "

"That's a tricky question. I listen to the "grape vine" a lot in my work. It's my understanding that Al Moore had all of his documentary evidence in his attaché case today. He didn't want the State Court of Appeals Judge to refuse his requests for warrants; so he was "loaded for bear", so to speak. It is my understanding that all of the evidence, with no backup copies, were in the evidence room at the state police building. There is no evidence to lead other investigators foreword on this case. If this is true, the attorney general's office now has their hands tied. We not only have a difficult job ahead of us, we may have a dangerous job ahead of us. We are, so to speak, working without backup. I know that the judge has some friends in the Attorney General's office as well as the governor's office. We will have difficulty approaching them." 

Jim Wood spoke up; "Let me but in, if I may. There is a piece of data that you need that I got just before leaving to come here for our get together. The coroner is a good friend of mine, we go to the same church. He, unofficially told me, that both Al Moore and his wife didn't die in the fire. They were both shot! There was no soot in their airways and their blood chemistries didn't show carbon monoxide or excessive carbon dioxide buildups. They were murdered."

"Are you sure?", John asked. 

"That is what the man said. The Judge has ordered him to seal the results of the autopsy for the moment, so the coroner could get in a lot of trouble if we were to let on that we know what happened. But, by issuing the order the Judge has shown us where he is in this situation. Without the coroner's report a homicide investigation cannot be started. I have also been told that the Judge has taken custody of all of the coroner's notes and photos. In a few days it will be the coroner's word against the Judges word. My bet is that this one will be declared an accidental death. This wouldn't be the first time Judge Goodwin has changed an obvious murder into an accidental death."

"Do we have any information on Chief Riley's death?"

"Yeah, they only found bits and pieces of him and his wife, but one part they found was half of his skull with a 0.500" hole entering one side. The bullet had to be moving at incredible speed since the hydraulic pressure blew his skull apart. The guess is that the gun used was a 50 caliber sniper rifle chambered for the standard Browning machine gun cartridge. It is unlikely that there will be anything found of that round. If it was fired from a few hundred yards away the bullet could almost be in the next county. Those rounds have ranges measured in miles. And, while we are at it, the same type of bullet hole was found in attorney Moore's head."

Jack Frazier spoke up. "Did you say that it was definitely a .50 Cal bullet?"

"Yeah, why?"

"The only person that I know of that has a .50 Cal high powered rifle is Ted Smith, the Sheriff's nephew. He is a dangerous man!"

John broke in; "Wonderful, just what we need, another crooked cop!" Then he continued: "You know, since Al Moore ran this investigation so close to his vest, it is unlikely that anyone else in the AG's office knows who can be trusted and who is part of the problem. In fact they can't even be sure that there is a problem now. Mark; we're going to need really good legal advice as we proceed. Do you know anyone you can trust to provide it?"

"Jim and I may know of someone. He is, by all reports, very sharp and scrupulously honest. His name is Pete Slovenski."

"The lawyer from Smithton?"

"Yeah, that's him, John."

John continued: "I know him. I also know what type of man he seems to be. I like that suggestion. Do you think he would consider doing something this risky?"

Mark responded: "Let's find out. I'll call him and ask him if he would be willing to do some under the table pro bono work."

"Mark, make sure you use a cell phone. They are much harder to tap. With the people who we believe we are up against I wouldn't put it past them to have all of our phone lines tapped. Tapping digital cell phones, however, requires equipment and skills that our local people don't have."

*********

The phone rang at Peter Slovenski's home.

"Hello?"

"Is Peter Slovenski at home?"

"Speaking!"

"Mr. Slovenski, this is Mark Fabbrizzio. I am the detective who came out to your house a few days ago. Would you have time to meet with me, and a few close friends? We have a major problem, and need honest legal input. I can't say more than that right now..We are only using digital cell phones to make our calls, if that tells you anything."

"Yes, Mark, I remember you. Your comment about digital cell phones rings a very loud bell in my head. When do you want to come out to talk?"

"When would you be available?"

"How about in half an hour, I'll get some pizza ordered."

"That sounds good. Please, and this is very important, do not let anyone know we are coming or that we have talked with you."

"O.K. I'll see you in half an hour, Mark." 

Forty-five minutes later John Hughes, Jim Wood, Mark Fabrizzio, Jack Frazier and Peter Slovenski were sitting around the dining room table at Slovenski's house. 

"John, we called you because we are in a very dangerous situation. What we are going to tell you has to be kept very, very, quiet. If word started to leak or suspicions were aroused people could end up dead. Can you live with those terms, for the moment?"




The Line



"Yes, Mark, as long as I'm not being made an accessory to a crime I can keep quiet."

"Thanks, John, we'll fill you in on what we know and suspect at this time."

It took the better part of half an hour for the visitors to fill John in on what had been going on, and what they suspected. At the end of the briefing John started to speak.

"Whew, you are in one unbelievable bind. Legally your hands are somewhat tied, and as you indicated your lives may well be in danger. The testimony you have presented rings true. I have heard a lot about your city government "through the grapevine". I had hoped that the "grapevine" was wrong, but it would seem that it was accurate. How can I help you with this situation? I definitely will help you if I can. "

John Hughes, of the state police, spoke up: "I'm not sure how we can proceed, legally. With the local Judge compromised we can't use the local legal system to help. With the Attorney General's (A.G.'s) office now having no evidence or records they won't know who to trust, and our local Judge can sound very upright, proper and honest. With multiple murders, that are likely to all be classed as accidental and with cremation called for by the Judge there will be no evidence of illegal action. I think we know who the ring leaders are, but we can't prove a thing with the loss of the evidence that was destroyed. Even if the rifle bullets found their way back into the coroners hands, the chain of custody for the evidence has been broken. I'm at a total loss as to what to do."

The room became deathly quiet for a couple of minutes.

Peter Slovenski broke the silence. "Have you considered talking with the FBI about the corruption and the BATF about the arson?"

"Yeah, we talked it over. We have a possible problem in that area. The Federal attorney for this state is both an old classmate and a close social friend of the Judge. To top that off, we have a strong hunch that the local Judge has some bit of evidence on the Federal attorney as well. We have no idea what the impropriety might be, but there have been some indications, in the past, that the Federal attorney has made last minute adjustment that limited the FBI's operations that the judge would find 'unpleasant'. We don't have hard evidence, but there are strong hints that there is something going on there. If we are identified as the instigators of a Federal investigation, our lives are probably worth nothing."

"Hmmmmmm; I'm going to have to think this one through very carefully. In the meantime I need to ask you gentlemen a very difficult question. If the law were not a limitation, what is the minimum adjustment needed to bring this case under the reasonable perview of the law?"

That was a question which all of the detectives had individually considered, but never voiced. There was a heavy air of extreme discomfort. After all, these were good lawmen. The law, and the rule of law, was one of the most important things in their lives. They all knew that vigilante justice very soon tended to become as great an evil as the original wrong which it purported to remedy. Sensing what was going on Peter Slovenski rephrased his question: "Assume for the moment that this was a criminal case in the year 715 a.d. and that magic and such were real solutions; in such a case what would be the obvious solution?"

Mark Fabrizzio broke the silence. "If we were talking about the Middle Ages, with an understanding that magic existed, I would say that the removal of the Judge would be the simplest way to get this case moving. If he were gone, the FBI and BATF could be called in and things would move ahead as they should. But, that's just my opinion." 

John Hughes spoke next: "That is probably a good suggestion. If we had a court order to obtain his phone records we might find out who else is involved in this mess. The problem is, how could we get a court order to get those records, when he is the Judge?"

Pete Slovenski responded: "I may have a way to arrange that. I have an old friend who is on the staff of the U.S. Attorney General's office. In fact he works for the espionage and terrorism group of that office. They have a Federal Judge with chambers that are off limits to all but a few. It is there that search warrants are made out for suspected international terrorists. I may be able to get you the needed search warrant, and have the complainant names purposely left off. Let me see what I can do. In the meantime please use your creative imaginations to figure out the minimum 'extra-legal' activity that would be necessary to return this case to the proper legal system. I'm not saying or suggesting that anything like that should be done, but if this were the Middle Ages, what would be the minimum that could be done to set this aright?"

Jack Frazier, the Sheriff's deputy, chimed in. He had been quiet for most of the evening. "There is one possible way that could have been used in the Middle Ages. With your assumption of the availability of magic; what would happen if the Judge were frightened so badly that prison would seem to be the better of two evils? I mean, if the Judge had the fear of God, or of the devil, put into him is it possible that he would simply run away leaving an open field for the FBI and BATF? I know that this sounds crazy, but if all options were open, could he be made to essentially do nothing?"

Mark responded immediately: "That would be an excellent approach. Suppose the Judge was so frightened that he feared that he was losing his mind. Suppose that the very thought of denying justice was enough to make him almost have a nervous breakdown. Would he be able to pull legal strings if everyone started to see him come unglued?

Jim Wood added: "This would make a nice fairy tale, but nothing like this possible in this day and age. You'd need to have the Judge meet a real wizard or monster to shake him up that badly. I think we are just spinning our wheels here."

Pete closed the meeting out with some solid advice: "Gentlemen, let me see what I can arrange with my friend in the Justice Department. In the meantime, keep coming up with interesting Middle Ages ideas, and don't do anything out of the ordinary.. Keep working like you would normally work so that nobody will suspect that you know anything. From the sounds of it you may not know who else may be compromised. I suggest that you quietly go back to your respective homes and pretend that this meeting never happened. Since I have had contact with both Jack and Mark with respect to the park incident that involved my brother it would make perfect sense for me to talk to them at one time or another. I suggest that we communicate through them, but only with digital cell phones."

Polite goodbys were exchanged and the group split up.

On the way back to town John Hughes observed: "He is sharp. By assuming a scenario involving magic and the Middle Ages it would take a real stretch of the imagination to make it sound like our current problem. He seems to be trying to move us back from the problem so that we can see it more clearly. I'm glad he's on our side."

"I think we need to keep something in mind, said Mark, he is on the law's side as well as on the side of justice. We all know that those two things are not always the same. I get the feeling that there is much more depth to Pete than he lets on. We need him, but at the same time I feel that we are working out of our depth. I can't even tell you what I mean by that, but that is my gut feeling. I think my feeling is much like a person from the Middle Ages would have felt in the presence of a wizard or such."

There was a round of "yeah, I feel the same way" types of comments. The rest of the ride was very quiet.

*   *

Judge Goodwin called his core political group to a meeting at his house, Monday evening. Present were the Sheriff Matt Damon and Mayor Larry Talbot. Neither of these two knew about the Judge's secondary group consisting of Ted Smith and city detective Simon Hoover. The Judge led off the meeting:

"Guys, we have a problem. As you know, Chief Riley has put us into a corner. Due to some fortuitous accidents it appears that the evidence that the attorney general would need to get us has been destroyed. However, we are not out of the woods yet. "We have some local lawmen who have always been unwilling to bend the rules for friends in the city government. Three of them, Mark Fabrizzio, Jim Wood and Jack Frazier are working on those park attack cases. If they manage to put together their case against the Chief's son, he might tell enough to bring the investigation too close to home. Now, I don't know if the Chief told him anything. But, they lived in the same house and it is possible that he picked up just enough to bring curious investigators too close to us. What do you think we should do?"

Mayor Larry Talbot chimed in; "It's a shame that he wasn't involved in one of those lucky accidents. It would be inconvenient to have him talking to some investigator from the state or Federal Government."

Sheriff Damon interrupted. "I've never been a strong believer in coincidences. Something about these recent 'accidents' involving Al Moore and Chief Riley seems to be too convenient and two well timed. Judge, what is your expert opinion regarding these fortuitous turns of events? Are they worth looking into in a careful forensic sort of way?"

"Well, Matt, I've always had the opinion that it was bad business to 'look a gift horse in the mouth'. I'd say that it might be best if we treated these unfortunate events as just what they are, unfortunate accidents. After all, you never know what you'll find if you go turning over too many rocks."

"I understand." Said Larry Damon, "I will assume that we will put up a plaque to commemorate Chief Riley's untimely death. However, that leaves us with a very dicey problem with the police station. The local fire officials have requested that the State Fire Inspector review this scene. They claim that this has to be arson. We can't control what they will find."

"That's true Larry, but what can they find? It was an accidental fire wasn't it?"

"No, it wasn't. The local fire investigators have already copied me on the summary of what was found. They took photo's, measurements, chemical samples, they might as well have been some outfit shown on Forensic Files or some other goddamn cop show. Someone cut the lock off the sprinkler valve and turned it off, prior to the fire being started. There are obvious tool marks on the copper tubing that connected the furnace to the oil tanks. There is way too much iron under the tank and there appears to be a lot of Aluminum Oxide in the area. That means only one thing, Thermite! This one could get messy."

"Thanks Larry, I hadn't been copied on that memo. I assume that they will catch whoever did this job. You don't suppose that Chief Riley could have had anything to do with it do you?"

"I don't know, Judge. Anything is possible at this point. After all, you wouldn't expect to have a fire in the police station and a car bomb go off at the State Police barracks within minutes of each other; after all this isn't the Middle East."

"Mayor Talbot, what is your take on this situation?"

"Well, Judge, I think it is too early to comment on these sad events. We have had deaths of fine, upstanding, lawmen here. I suggest that we let the new Chief of Police try to sort these events out. By the way, who are you suggesting for the new Chief?"

"I've been giving that a lot of thought", Larry. "Our police department has many good and talented men in it. Why don't we promote from within the police department or the Sheriff's office. Off hand I know of at least two good men, at least by reputation. One is named Detective Simon Hoover. I think I've heard that he has been on the force for a few years and that he is a reasonable sort of guy. He doesn't want to make waves unless they are warranted. The other man is in your department Matt. His name is Ted Smith. How would he be as the new police chief?"

"Judge, I know Ted very well. He is competent, is a bit of a loose cannon, and he is dangerous. He's never stopped thinking like a special forces guy. Are you sure that you would suggest him? What about this Matt Damon? Is he any good?"

Mayor Talbot chimed in; "I've worked around Matt several times. He seems to be open to follow good solid political guidance when it is needed. He can do first rate police work, but he also knows when it is best to "turn a blind eye' toward a problem as well. I'd be comfortable with him as the new police chief. That is especially true since I know of one case where he bent the rules too far and had to have a little help pulling his butt out of the fire. All-in-all he'd fit the job well."

"Larry, offer him the job tomorrow morning. We need someone who can give us a timely 'heads up' when our over zealous detectives start moving in undesirable directions."

"Now, we should probably go over to the hospital and express our condolences to Dan 

Riley. After all, he needs to know who his friends are. We can tell him that the park attacks are so important that the new police chief will be taking over both of those cases. We can also tell him that the police department building was destroyed, unfortunately taking all of the evidence with it...... What a shame."

With broad smiles, they all agreed that this would be the best option.

* * * * 

When they got to the hospital, the upbeat humor of the judge, and his crew, suddenly turned into nervousness. As they entered the ICU the first thing that they saw as a large, muscular man holding a pump 10ga shotgun. He was wearing the uniform of an officer in the State Police. 

"What's going on here? Who are you and who told you to come into the hospital with a weapon?"

Lt. James Moore replied: "I and my squad, have been sent here directly under the Governors orders. He is the head of the national guard, as well as the State Police. My squad is made up of ten men they are armed with handguns, and standard issue military rifles. We are here to make sure certain witnesses are not harmed. Our orders are to keep anyone, not on the visitor list provided by the Attorney General, out of this area. If you are not on this list you will be escorted by six armed guards directly back to the parking lot. Now, identify yourselves!"

"This is outrageous! I'm the local judge and I'm telling you that you cannot do this!"

"Ah, I was told that you might come here. Here's a little legal note to you from the Governor."

The judge took the note and as he read it his face became pale. 

"We're leaving. You don't need to escort us."

"Oh, yes I do! I have specific orders regarding the judge, mayor, and sheriff. Your faces match the ones that came with my orders. Unless you are deathly ill, if you set foot in this hospital again, you will be placed under arrest. I have the warrant in my pocket."

"On what grounds?"

"Attempted obstruction of justice."

With that Lt. Moore called a detail of six very large and very serious looking armed soldiers.

"Escort these men out, and make sure they get in their vehicles and leave the Hospital parking lot!"

"Yes, sir!"

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

As the car, carrying the Judge, Bud Lisk, the mayor, and the sheriff left the parking lot the sheriff spoke up. "I've never seen you back down like that before. What spooked you? What was the paper that the soldier handed you?"

"The Governor apparently strongly suspects something. He has placed our hospital, and the sheriff's office, the court house, and the temporary police station under martial law. We will find a squad of armed, and trained men, at each of those places. At least one member of every squad is also a member of the State Police. Somebody has been pulling strings at a level far above what I am used to dealing with. We are in trouble and need to very carefully try to defuse this situation. The question is, how?"

The rest of the ride was uneventful.

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

Important visitors were just leaving John Hughes office when John picked up his digital cell phone and called Mark Fabrizzio. 

"Mark, I suspect Pete has pulled off a bit of a miracle. I was just visited by the head of the State Police and a Major in the National Guard. The hospital, courthouse, sheriff's office, and city hall have been placed under martial law by the Governor. Heavily armed guards are guarding each of those locations. They have set up their headquarters in the gymnasium of the local high school. The guards will be changed every four and a half hours, with one hour of overlap so that there is never an unguarded moment. I suspect that our suspects are not going to handle this very well."

"You're not kidding me, are you John? That sounds like something out of a Tom Clancy novel. Are you totally sure of this?"

"Yup! They were manning their posts as of half an hour ago. They will be on rotating watch. Oh, and hopefully just for show, they have a fully equipped armored personnel carrier stationed outside the sheriff's office. The guard has been told to treat this as if they were guarding areas in Iraq. They aren't carrying non-lethal weapons as far as I know. Some folks are going to feel uneasy from here on in. I was told that an armed Humvee was going to accompany each police or sheriff's patrol car on all duty runs. Our city has been mostly taken out of the hands of the folks we think are behind the problems we have had."

"Are they providing any bodyguard services?" 

Yes, but at a distance. They don't want to make it too obvious who they are protecting so that the good guys get pointed out."

Have a good night John. I think I can sleep a little more easily tonight knowing the quality of our protection."

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

Judge Henry Goodwin was mulling over his options. He knew that someone had been pulling some strings at a very high level. He decided to call his friend Detective Simon Hoover over in Smithton. 

"Hi Simon, it's Henry. We've got problems! Somebody has pulled some strings and gotten the Governor to place most official places in our city under martial law. Do me a favor and snoop around a little and see if you can pick up any ideas about who has enough clout to do something like this."

"I'll do that Henry. I have one fact that I need to mention that came to light just recently. After that attempted mugging in the park, the one where a bunch of kids got hurt, Detectives from your city police and sheriff's office came over into our county to interview someone at a local attorney's house. We found that out by way of a courtesy call from the detectives. They just wanted us to know that they conducted an interview in our territory. I don't know if this is....."

"What's the name of the lawyer, Simon?"

"Peter Slovenski, but I don't see how it ...."

"Simon, I want you to lay low and act like a perfect good cop. I know of Slovenski. His kid brother is the one that the gang was trying to hurt. I also know that Slovenski has a fair number of friends in high places, including the U.S. Justice department. He's dangerous! I'm going to have to take care of this situation. Don't do anything except your job until I contact you again. Don't try to contact me. Understand?"

"You got it. 'Night Judge."

As he hung up the phone, the judge placed a call to Ted Smith.

"Hi Ted, this is Henry. Are you on a digital cell phone right now?"

"No."

"O.k. I'm going to hang up and have you phone me from a digital cell phone or from a pay phone that isn't near your house. Can you do that?"

"Yup, I'll call you right back."

The return call arrived less than a minute later. 

"Ted, I think I'm going to need more of your expertise. What would you charge me to take out a few more people? Although it doesn't have to look like an accident, it would be better if it did. What would you need per person?"




The Line Never Crossed



Can an evil, blood-sucking demon-spawn who revels in the smell of death and carnage have erotic fantasies? Well, I can't speak for the rest of them, but I most certainly do. My favorite one is where two gorgeous males seduce me into a night-long threesome. I am not talking about a porno-type tryst, where some poor girl has men stuffing dicks into every orifice; being as old a vampyre as I am, mere mortals wouldn't do in my beloved fantasy. I'm talking about two mythical beings doing everything in their power to make me climax over and over again.

But maybe I should start at the beginning...

I came home from a massacre, totally exhausted, to find Marco and Rhys sitting in my living room drinking their usual Tanqueray and tonic. I assumed from the silence in the house that my servants, including my "top-notch" security team, had been sent away for the evening.

On the coffee table in the center of the room was a curvaceous blonde girl, bound and gagged... and deliciously naked. The room itself was lit by hundreds of candles... not my first choice, being that I'm a vampyre and fire is deadly, but I decided to stay silent and see where this was leading.

Marco steered me towards the couch while Rhys drew a black blade from the sheath on his hip. I glanced from one to the other and not for the first time wondered how anyone could mistake them for brothers. I mean yeah, dark hair, dark eyes, but I think it's relatively easy to tell the Italian from the Scot. Maybe it's the fact that I've known them for more than a millennium that helps me distinguish between the two...

Marco was barefoot, dressed in tight jeans and a white T-shirt, his thick hair tousled like he had just come out of the shower and only had time to hand brush. Rhys was in his trademark black - jeans, boots, shirt - his hair pulled back in a ponytail. Just looking at them was enough to get me moist...

Rhys ran the tip of the blade down the blonde's body, a soft smile on his face. "This sacrifice is to you, my goddess," he purred, then he cut her open from belly to throat. Blood sprayed across the room, and the acrid smell of copper made my stomach churn with desire. I felt my fangs emerge as I resisted the urge to literally dive into the offering. I then noticed that the men were just staring at me, their blood-soaked bodies shaking with a yearning that I believed was for the carnage on the table. I was wrong.

Marco slid my shoes off and began messaging the soles of my feet. As I enjoyed the massage Rhys sat next to me and held the knife to my lips. I grinned at the werecat and opened my mouth, my tongue running across the blade. He smiled back and put the knife down, dipping the tip of his finger in the girl's chest and holding it to my mouth. As I slowly licked Rhys' finger clean, Marco's hands moved up my blood-covered legs, his touch sending chills all over my body. 

I moaned quietly as Marco started rubbing my hips, his tongue running up my thigh. My back arched slightly, and Rhys was quick to respond, running his palm across my breasts until my nipples were painfully hard. I took his finger in my mouth again and began sucking as he put his other hand under my shirt and deftly removed my bra. I moaned again as my nipples ran against the silk of my shirt.

This was too good to be true, which is why I was so uncertain about it all. "Guys," I whispered, "We shouldn't..." I reached down and played with Marco's hair as he nuzzled my stomach, his hands slowly pulling down my panties.

"Why not," Rhys asked, not expecting an answer as he tore my shirt open with his claws, "Damn Celeste! You have the most gorgeous breasts..."

He took one in each hand and ran his rough tongue across my nipples. I shivered as his tongue ring brushed across my taut skin. 

"Mmmmmmmmmm," he purred, "you like that don't you?"

I nodded, my eyes rolling back in my head as Marco ran his fingers between my legs. "Oh yeah, Rhys. She likes it a lot."

As they both leaned towards me I, not for the first time in my long life, admired the feline beauty in both the werecat and vampyre. Rhys, his hair loose from the rubber band and his tongue playing across my breasts, reminded me of a frisky kitten, eager to please and willing to learn. Marco, on the other hand, prompted images of a lion: strong, prideful and dangerous. He lifted my hips, pushing my skirt up with his nose. I shivered in anticipation, and he purposefully slowed down with a wicked grin.

Rhys, meanwhile, was running his tongue across my chest, my shoulders, and then attacked my neck, biting and licking, making small circles with his tongue. I shuddered with pleasure and tilted my head as I ran my nails down his back. I shifted my hips and pulled Marco's hair, too aroused now to be patient. I felt his hot breath between my legs and moaned, gasping with anticipation and desire. 

Marco flicked his tongue out, playfully teasing me. I thrust my hips instinctively, knowing the pleasure I was about to experience. I felt myself get damp with desire as Rhys' lips found mine. The light caresses of both of their mouths made me gasp with pleasure. Rhys' kisses were soft and gentle, but I could see in his cats-eyes the heat and desire that was in him. 

Marco's tongue ran up my wetness and lightly touched my clit, making my mind whirl with pleasure. I opened my mouth and Rhys' tongue played inside as he pushed me back against the pillows of the couch. I tasted his blood as my fangs cut his mouth, making my desire even more intense. I grabbed at his shirt, wanting to feel his skin against mine, but I was awkward, too excited to be able to do anything with finesse. He pulled away, and while he took off his shirt I reached down to Marco and tugged at his shirt as well. 

Without moving from between my legs, Marco ripped off his shirt, then plunged his tongue unto me, making me scream in surprise and excitement. Waves of ecstasy washed over me as he continued both with his tongue and his fingers. I felt my clit throbbing as I arched with pleasure. Rhys supported my back with his hands and ran his tongue across my nipples, leaving a trail of blood. My nipples ached with tightness, and I instinctively reached between Rhys' legs, but he pushed my hand away.

"Not yet Luv," he purred in my ear, "Not yet."

A chill went down my spine as he spoke, making me tighten my legs around Marco's head. He responded by taking my clit between his lips and gently sucking, his fangs brushing slightly on my pussy. I moaned and maneuvered my foot to get between his legs, but he grabbed my ankle. His dark eyes smoldered over my mound.

"This is for you alone Celeste," he growled.

I moaned and turned my head. Rhys ran his tongue across my ear, sending me into a passionate frenzy. My breast brushed across his nipple ring, and the sensation almost made me pass out. I whimpered with desire and reached out to each of them. Rhys took my hand and began lightly sucking on my fingers. Marco grabbed my wrist and guided my fingers to my clit, where I felt myself moist and throbbing. 

I slowly began rubbing my clit, feeling it respond to my touch. Marco sat up and smiled, showing fangs, as his fingers slid in and out of me. I closed my eyes as the sensations of my own touch washed over me. I moaned as I massaged my clit, my wet fingers brushing against Marco's. I heard both of them breathing heavily as they watched me writhe with pleasure. My free hand began running across my breasts and Rhys' fingers. He leaned into me, his voice deep and full of desire.

"That's it Celeste," he breathed, "God, you are gorgeous. I want you so much right now..."

I moaned in response and turned my head towards him, finding his mouth and running my tongue across his parted lips. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back, pressing his mouth against mine with a passion that he was finding hard to control. I again reached between his legs, and once more he pushed me away, but this time it was obviously difficult for him to do. Meanwhile Marco pushed his finger deep inside of me, the tip finding my not-so-elusive G-spot. I whimpered in pleasure and my rubbing got more intense. I felt my clit swell and throb, and then I started to climax. 

I growled as waves of passion washed over me, each one more intense than the last. Marco moved his finger to my rhythm, while Rhys leaned his head on my shoulder, whispering encouraging words to me. Suddenly I was screaming as I climaxed, my back arching almost to the breaking point. I whimpered as my body relaxed and first Rhys, then Marco, brushed their lips against mine.

"Oh no, child," Marco whispered, gently brushing my hair off of my face as my eyes fluttered closed, "You're not finished yet." 

I stared at him through glazed eyes, my response a soft whimper. Marco sat up on his knees and slowly unzipped his pants, freeing his throbbing cock from its denim prison. As he slipped off his pants, I sat up and put him in my mouth, my tongue running across his head. He moaned and grabbed my hair as my mouth ran up and down his shaft. I grabbed his ass and pulled him towards me, taking in as much of him as I could.

"No Celeste," he moaned, pushing me gently away, "not tonight."

He guided me back into Rhys, who was now sitting behind me on the couch. I felt his hard cock against my back as he cupped my breasts in his hands and moaned in pleasure. His nipple rings were cool against my hot skin as he pulled me tightly against him. Marco then leaned forward and licked my nipples as he lifted my legs. I felt his cock tap against my pussy and moaned in anticipation.

"Good girl Celeste," Marco growled, rubbing his shaft against my clit, "Let us take care of you."

He then pushed his cock into me, and I sighed with pleasure. I tilted my head and ran my fangs across Rhys' neck. He shuddered, grabbing my breasts and pinching my nipples. Marco slowly moved his shaft in and out of me, making me tremble, my back rubbing against Rhys' throbbing cock. Rhys moaned again and covered my mouth with his, his tongue forcing my lips open in heated desire.

Marco grabbed my hips and pushed himself deeper into me, my moans muffled by Rhys' bloodied mouth on mine. Rhys ran is fingers through my hair as Marco leaned forward, sunk his fangs into my skin, and began sucking on my breast. I writhed and pushed back against Rhys as Marco drove his dick deeper and faster into me. I grabbed the back of Rhys' head, drinking his blood as I pushed his mouth harder against mine and my hips met Marco's over and over... faster and faster...

I suddenly couldn't take it anymore. Rhys' shaft was hot and throbbing against my back, and he was whimpering with an aching desire that matched Marco's and my own. With supernatural force I pulled away from him, then slid Marco's dick out of me and pushed him back against the cushions. I knelt in front of Marco and leaned forward, taking his shaft in my mouth, my ass up in the air for Rhys to do what he will.

I heard Rhys' breathing, deep and heavy, as he realized what I was offering. Marco had his hands in my hair, moaning with pleasure as my tongue ran across his head. He tasted of my sweetness, and smelled heady, like me. I watched with a slight smile as his back arched when I started playing with his balls. I felt Rhys' fingers playing in my pussy and I moaned, causing Marco to moan as well. He then found my clit and started to rub, and my lips tightened around Marco, putting more and more of his throbbing shaft into my mouth.

Suddenly Rhys was inside of me, his cock pulsating with a desire that he had been harboring for a long time.

"Oh god, Celeste," he moaned, his hands gripping my ass, "Oh god..."

Marco also moaned my name, his hands pushing my head down so his entire cock was in my mouth. I ran my tongue up and down his shaft as I thrust my hips back and forth against Rhys'. Both of their dicks throbbed and grew, and their voices got deep and guttural as they said my name over and over again...

Marco came first. As I swallowed his cum and licked him clean Rhys grew larger, filling me and causing waves of ecstasy to overtake me. I moaned "Yes, oh yes!" into Marco's lap as Rhys pushed harder and harder, his claws digging painfully into my ass.

"Celeste! Oh god, Celeste!"

I gasped as I climaxed, my face buried in Marco's thigh. Rhys came a few moments later with a sob as he leaned his forehead against my lower back. I curled up on Marco, my head on his shoulder, with one hand on his chest and one tangled in Rhys' mane of hair.

Did it actually happen, or is this just a fantasy I've had many, many times? My darlings, would I waste your time like this if it was just a fantasy of mine? That would be devious. That would be wicked. That would be cruel! And I, after all, am an evil, blood-sucking demon-spawn who revels in the smell of death and carnage; why in the world would I lie...?



The Lines We Cross...



*****

This is the beginning of a second series of stories a few years after "The Seduction of Venice".

*****

The heavy humidity of August weighed Rome down. Christine weaved her way through the throngs of other passengers as she exited the subway. She and her husband, Alessandro, each had their own cars, but she preferred public transportation for most parts of the city. She was five months pregnant with her second child. She had been shopping in a baby boutique looking at tiny shoes when she had received his phone call.

Leo had something to show her he had said. "I have something to entertain you with—it's my new project. You'll like it, Christine. Come and see." 

She rarely liked any of his ideas. She tolerated him, because he was her husband's dearest friend and, at one time, mentor.

She walked into his building. It was cool and very quiet in the lobby as the heels of her shoes clacked across the marble tile. A huge L-S-L monogram in the form of entwined snakes was laid down as a mosaic in the center of the floor. Leonardo Sirilgio Lindetti.

She went up to the 5th floor and made her way past various receptionists and secretaries. Leo's private secretary was not the young, dumb, and beautiful female type. Instead, Leo had chosen the gay, power hungry, sycophant type. He waved Christine inside to Leo's inner sanctum not even pausing to warn Leo of her arrival. "He must have said to send me straight in" she thought.

Leo stood at a window looking down at the street and turned when he heard Christine come in. At 48, he made an imposing figure. He was very tall. His black hair and dark eyes accented his olive skin perfectly. He had but a hint of grey at his temples. He turned to smile at Christine. She was an enjoyable view even 5 months pregnant. Her belly gently rounded and showed underneath her sundress. Her breasts were always nice. And now they swelled ever so slightly more.

As she came up to his desk, he approached her and kissed both her cheeks while rubbing his hands on her arms. 

"Christine, you look beautiful. How's my next godchild?"

That irked her. Her daughter, Victoria, was his godchild. She had given into Alessandro's request. She had told her husband that Leo would be a dirty old man and try to fuck his own goddaughter when she came of age. Alessandro took it as a joke. Christine was not so sure she was kidding.

"We're having a boy. We found out yesterday."

"Congratulations, Alessandro's first son."

"First biological son, don't ignore our first child."

"To Italian men, blood matters more."

"Not to Alessandro, not when it comes to our son."

Leo shook his head at Christine. "Don't you want to know why I called?"

"Yes."

"I want you to sit over there on that couch and enjoy the view."

"Of what?" Christine asked.

"My new project. I'm just starting it. I wanted a witness and you came to mind." Leo said. "So sit here" he said as he guided her to the couch. As she sat, he caressed her body. He let his hands swirl around her pregnant belly then up to her breasts. As she glared at him, he laughed a bit.

"Leo, Alessandro is not here. You are only allowed to play with me when he's present as part of our games."

"All I did was touch, Christine," he said kissing her on her forehead. "Does my touch affect you that greatly?" he asked her.

She turned her head slightly. Luckily, she never had to answer. Leo's assistant had buzzed in announcing the arrival of one of the firm's interns. LSL was a very large law firm. It dealt with international trade, corporate, and tax law. Every summer the firm accepted 8 new interns. They were some of the most sought after internships. They definitely were the best internships for the type of law the firm did. 

The intern walked in quietly. She was very slender and had small perky breasts. She wore a navy short blue skirt with a white button down shirt. She had on heeled loafers. Her hair was very curly and cropped short to her chin. Everything about her said conservative, quiet, and shy. The only interesting thing she wore was a gold crucifix around her neck with rubies set in it.

"Are you Claudia?" Leo asked.

"Si, Signore" she answered.

The conversation flew back across in Italian. Christine missed some parts, but she understood the basics of it.

"Your work has been below satisfactory, Signorina Loretti" Leo stated. Claudia seemed to expect this announcement. And as her face fell she began her litany of excuses.

"I'm so sorry. I know. I have been trying so hard. And I know I mixed up those files at the trial. And now the judge... And then thank God for Vanni—he had the copies... and...." Christine listened to Claudia's emotional explanation.

"Excuses mean nothing to me. I am going to have to ask you to leave the program" she heard Leo tell her.

Christine had no idea why she was here witnessing this. Next thing she knew Claudia was sobbing on her knees asking for another chance. She went on and on about her family, how disappointed they would be, the money they put into paying for her summer housing in the city, how she'd lose credits, and how everyone would talk about her in her class. She was getting really annoying to Christine.

"Exactly what good do you do my firm? Certainly nothing of value at all to any of us here."

"Signore, please I can. I cannot tell my family. I can..." Leo cut her off mid-sentence.

"See this lady here?" he gestured to me.

She turned and seemed to notice me for the first time. "Yes," she said half confused turning back to Leo.

"I wonder if you are so useless that you cannot even help me entertain her a bit."

"I will help you, of course, Signore. But what can I do to..."

"You can be very open with yourself, work with me, and we will amuse her" Leo said with a devil's grin. His voice was smooth and placating now. 

"Signorina Loretti, are you a very good girl?"

"What? Yes, of course I'm a good girl. I go to mass every Sunday. I never let boys go very far. Signore, I would never dishonor my family."

"Enough, a sentence or two are sufficient for a response" Leo said rolling his eyes.

"Claudia, if you don't help me with my special project, you're gone. Your work was beyond dismal. Do you understand that if you refuse me on anything, you're gone? And I'll make sure your professors know about your substandard performance."

"I understand, Signore Lindetti." she whispered looking up at him with the fear of God upon her face. 

"This is so disgusting, she's pitiful," Christine thought to herself. And right as Leo told her to stand and unbutton her blouse it dawned on Christine what Leo meant by "entertaining her".

"No! Unbutton... No!"

"Then you're fired." Leo said with a smile.

"But" the girl stuttered.

"But what? I was quite clear." he said very bored now.

The girl stood there sobbing, perplexed about what to do. Christine sat there wondering how callous she was to watch this and say nothing. But the girl had no backbone, so she didn't really like her. And she knew she only had so many cards to play against Leo—she wasn't going to waste them on this silly girl. Leo was too dangerous to fight.

"Please leave Signorina Loretti."

"Signore Lindetti, please no," she called out to him.

Leo turned to his desk and pressed the call button. His assistant answered promptly. "I need security to remove Signorina Loretti from these premises now. She's been fired." said Leo.

"At once, Signore" the assistant replied.

"No! Yes, yes, I'll help you" Claudia choked out as she tried to stop blubbering and started to breathe.

She stood up and started unbuttoning her shirt. Leo leaned back to his desk and hit the call button again. "Signore?" 

"Cancel that. I've decided to keep Signorina Loretti on. She's learning new skills. However, she's off the intern team." Leo smiled a quick and furious smile at Claudia. 

"I'll let them know."

"Claudia, remove your bra as well" Leo quietly commanded. Still sobbing, but more quietly now (thanked Christine's nerves) Claudia reached behind and unclasped her bra. She pulled it off. Her breasts were very small. Christine couldn't decide if they were A or B cup. She really didn't know. "Must be A" she thought.

"Fuck, you're flat, Claudia. I can't fuck those tits can I?" Leo said evenly looking at Christine's breasts with lust. Because he was looking in her general direction, Christine responded "no."

Claudia stayed quiet with her head hung down. 

Leo reached out with both hands and grabbed each nipple. He twisted and yanked them ignoring Claudia's yelps. 

He shrugged. "Hmph. How old are you?" Leo asked her.

"19" she mumbled.

"Look up, God damn it. Speak to me. You're 19 and a virgin?"

"Yes, I told you before. I am a good girl."

"So be a good girl, and take off your panties."

She started to pull off her shoes first, when Leo stopped her.

"Leave the shoes on. I'm very specific. Just your panties."

Christine watched very interested and she'd never say so—but very entertained.

Claudia pulled off her panties and Leo took them from her. He threw them into his trash bin. Leo told her "you're never to wear panties into the office again."

"Claudia, pull your skirt up and sit in the chair behind you." She complied. Her bare bottom sat on the black leather of his club chair.

Leo walked up. He ran his hands over her legs and spread them as he put each leg up over an arm of the chair. Both he and Christine had quite a view of her pussy and the curls that covered it. 

"Touch yourself" Leo commanded.

"Signore, it's bad to do that. Please..." she started crying. Leo glared at her. Christine said "oh Jesus" out loud. Leo turned and grinned at her. He was pleased Christine was indeed interested in his game. He grabbed Claudia off the club chair. He shook her. 

"What the fuck did I tell you, cunt? What? And now my guest is not so well entertained. Are you going to pay for it?"

Claudia with her eyes round with fear squeaked out "Yes."

Leo dropped her and went and sat behind his desk. It was a big and imposing structure. He ordered Claudia before him. "Lay over my lap."

Claudia did. She bent over his lap. He pushed her skirt up to reveal her ass. Her head hung down on the side while her legs were bent and her feet braced the floor taking some of her weight. Christine watched from the other side of his desk as Leo started smacking Claudia's ass. She started crying as each blow came down. Christine spoke out then to him, "You're going to bruise her."

"So?" Leonardo asked with one eyebrow raised. "I know you are going to prefer to watch it than be spanked yourself" he said his voice low and threatening.

"I'm pregnant!" she cried her hand covering her belly.

"I would never hurt you nor your child, Christine" he said in an almost perversely loving manner.

He kept right on spanking Claudia until he was happy. When he stopped, she just laid there in the same position crying softly.

"Get up, whore" Leo said sweetly.

Claudia struggled to stand. 

"Go back and get in the same position I had you in that chair." Claudia's ass already had large purple and blue welts starting to show on her back side.

Claudia stumbled and moaned in pain as her weight came down on her bruised bottom.

"Touch yourself."

Claudia complied. She feebly parted her lips and began clumsily touching herself. 

"Dear God, I bet she's never masturbated" he said as an aside to Christine. Christine raised her eyebrows.

"Stroke yourself, whore."

Claudia tried. Her pussy started to get wet and respond. Leo dug around in his desk and pulled out a gleaming vibrator. He went over to Claudia. He handed it to her. She looked at him confused.

With his hand on hers, he pressed the vibrator along side her clit. Claudia cried out in surprise. 

"Hold it there and work it across your clit. There you go" he softly told Claudia. Leo went over to sit beside Christine on the couch. He casually sat there with his arm draped around Christine who stiffened as soon as she felt him. They both watched as Claudia ran the vibrator up and down her pussy. 

Claudia had become very slick. Her pink folds were glistening as the vibrator caressed them. Claudia was starting to rock back and forth in the chair and moaning quietly.

"Good, Claudia. Make yourself cum" Leo called to her.

Claudia moaned louder rocking back and forth. She pressed the vibrator against her pussy harder and started working it on her clit with vengeance. Leo looked down at Christine and then kissed the top of her head. He ignored Claudia's ministrations on his chair.

He leaned into Christine and whispered in her ear, "how wet are you, angel?"

Christine said nothing, but tried to control her erratic breathing better, because the answer was she had soaked through her dress already.

Leo turned back to watch his hapless intern fuck herself with the vibrator. He wasn't particularly interested in fucking her so he started to imagine Christine breasts around his dick. He felt himself start to harden. 

Then finally, Claudia screamed out and Christine and Leo watched as the orgasm ripped through the girls body.

"Finally," Leo uttered.

Christine looked at him confused. "Finally?" she wondered.

Leo walked over to the girl. "You are such a whore, Claudia. You showed both my guest and I what how easily you fuck yourself in public" he whispered in her ear.

She just looked at him, devastated.

"Stand" he commanded.

She stood. "Walk over to my desk and sit on it," Leo said. Claudia complied wincing only slightly as she hopped up.

Leo walked over to Claudia and reached out and caressed her bruised breasts. He then reached over to the side of his desk into a shallow dish. He pulled out two very small silver laundry clips that were novelty paper clips. Nevertheless, they had a strong biting grip. Leo put the first one on Claudia left nipple. Claudia cried out, "Noooo." Leo ignored her. Her placed the second one on her right nipple and Claudia started sobbing. Leo pulled a little bit on the silver clip on the right nipple. Claudia moaned in pain. Her face contorted. He drew his face close to her and whispered, "Be quiet or I'll twist them." Claudia bit her bottom lit and made an effort to choke back cries.

At this point Christine was subtly rocking her body back and forth on the couch. Her body ached to be fucked and yet she was terrified of what Leo would do next. "Why the hell am I watching this?" she asked herself. "What was his purpose?"

Leo told Claudia to lay back. He pulled her bottom off the desk and spread open her legs. He held her bottom up with one hand and with the other unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He pulled out his dick that was already dripping pre-cum. Between fantasizing about Christine's breasts and focusing on Claudia's virginal state, he was very ready. If there is one thing Leo likes, it's a virgin. He was legendary for it. He rarely did it nicely. He like to terrify virgins and watch their fear. He liked to watch the feeling of futility cross their face as they realize he's changed them forever. If Leo hears about a virgin, he usually changes their status as soon as he is able. He'd overheard a few of his male interns joking one night waiting for the elevator about the very prissy, very conservative Signorina Loretti. They had been lamenting how provincial she was. There were jokes about her devout Catholicism. As it turned out, Claudia was truly a horrible intern. It had been too easy for Leo to be vicious.

Christine admired the cock brought into view. She always had. She would never tell her husband, Alessandro. But the first night that Leo had come over for dinner and the men had coerced her into a threesome, she fell in love with that cock. It was beautiful and large and thick. Her husband's was wonderful too, comparable in size and everything. But Leo's was just wonderful. There was just something about it. Christine was subconsciously wetting her lips as she watched him position himself at Claudia's pussy. 

There was no tenderness, no verbal warning of pain, nothing. Leo started pushing himself slowly into Claudia—not in some misguided attempt to slowly acclimate her, but to draw out the pain and wait.

Claudia cried out. She started whispering a prayer. Christine could hear her chant. Leo pushed further in. He took her legs and put them on his shoulders. He grabbed her bottom and finished thrusting all the way in. He smiled at her face as it contorted in pain. "She's nice and wet still from her masturbation session," he thought to himself. Which truly was, of course, all he cared about.

He began pummeling her, lost in the sensation of feeling this virgin for the first time. Claudia kept muttering "Hail Mary's" and tried to take her mind somewhere else. Christine sat on the edge of the couch hypnotized by the scene. It was like watching a violent porn flick except it was real. Her blood quickened from the violence and passion of it.

Leo steadily held her ass and rocked in and out of Claudia, pumping harder and harder. He looked down and watch his dick which was tinged red with blood work in and out ignoring the girl's moans and prayers.

She lay there with her eyes averted and her face contorted. There were tears streaming down her cheeks. Leo felt his dick slide full to the hilt and back out. He thought of how he would fuck Christine later whether she wanted it or not. 

And that's when he felt the pressure building and his balls tighten. He finally let himself go and reached out and twisted the little clip on Claudia's nipple. She screamed in agony as he came holding himself deep in her pussy. He pumped until every last drop was milked out. 

He stepped back, grabbed a tissue, and wiped himself up. He zipped and buttoned his pants. "That was good enough. Get off my desk, remove the clips off your nipples, put them back where they came from, and put your shirt back on. Do not wipe yourself. And leave, please" he ordered Claudia. She unsteadily rose on his desk. She winced as she unclipped each nipple and put them on his desk. She hobbled over to her shirt and put it on.

Christine and Leo both watched in silence. Claudia turned and looked at Leo who said nothing. Leo's semen was starting to slide down her legs as she made it out of his office.

Leo walked to his desk and pressed the call button. After his assistant answered he replied, "Please do phone Miss Loretti's voicemail and remind her to be at work at 8 AM sharp tomorrow morning. She cannot wear any undergarments."

"At once, Signore Lindetti" was the curt reply.

Leo turned to Christine. He could see the arousal—her face and neck were flushed, she was breathing faster, and he could guarantee she was dripping wet.

"Did you enjoy your entertainment?" Leo asked.

"You raped her."

"Sure, but did you enjoy it? I think you did. I think you're rubbing those thighs together so tightly, because it made you very wet" Leo said as walked over to Christine and reached out for her chin. Cupping her jaw, he drew her face to look directly up at him and asked, "Didn't it?".

She breathed slowly in and released it. She looked at him directly, "Of course, I'm aroused."

"I can't have my best friend's pregnant wife leave unsatisfied and wanting. Alessandro won't be home for hours."

"He's not home until tomorrow night—he's in Milano on business. Didn't you know?" She regretted the words as soon as she said them.

"I didn't know," Leo said smiling. He drew Christine up into a loose embrace. She started shaking and started to pull away. He gripped her arms to hold her there. 

"Please, don't hurt me, Leo," she cried out.

He let go of an arm and caressed her face. "Why would you ever think I would hurt you, Christine?"

She just looked him incredulously. "That stupid whore is worthless. I would never torture you so. When Alessandro brought you home and introduced me to his treasure, I instantly recognized the quality he'd managed to find. I was and remain very impressed" he praised.




The Lines We Cross...



"Oh please, look at how you feel about your wife, Constanza. I mean, come on, Leonardo" Christine retorted. "You hate women."

"Usually, look at that bitch I am wedded to, and my daughter. She's a full grown cunt on wheels now. Women are here to satisfy my needs—especially if they don't do their damn job right. You are a rarity. I enjoy conversing with you. And you have never tried to destroy Alessandro."

Leonardo leaned in and kissed Christine on each cheek. And then he kissed her softly on the mouth. That he could demonstrate such tenderness caught her off guard.

He whispered to her, "Remember the threesome? You lusted after my cock. You licked your lips and sucked me with a voracious appetite. And Alessandro watched his angel work on his best friend. That was a great dinner. You were the best gift Alessandro ever gave me."

He leaned back and looked down into her eyes. "Let me make you cry out in pleasure, Christine. You need release. Your body screams it." His voice was low and seductive. She played her only card.

"Call Alessandro."

"What?"

"Call him. He only ever agreed to share me when he was there. Call and ask him" she told him. She waited to see his reaction. He could force her, she knew. And she knew she'd like it. But maybe, just maybe he would call Alessandro.

Leo smiled at her and stepped back. He went to his desk and dialed a number. Alessandro answered.

They laughed and chatted a bit. Alessandro asked how Leo was and what was he doing?

"Well, Christine is here in my office. I asked her to come and watch me with a special project. I wanted to amuse her."

"What was that project, Leo?" Alessandro asked still very jovial.

"I forced an intern to fuck me instead of firing her. I thought Christine would enjoy it." 

"You brought my wife into one of your games?" asked Alessandro. His voice had an edge that few had the privilege to use against Leonardo Linetti. "I don't ever want her implicated in one your rapes, Leo."

"Well, she watched and now I know she is ridiculously excited. I want to make her cum. I can't stand a tortured pregnant woman."

"Yeah, you're a damn saint, Leonardo. She's mine and you know it. I let you play with her in a threesome." 

"Alessandro, I want her. I want to play with her. Of course she is yours. Your child is growing in her womb. I just want to enjoy her. Let me play with her. You're gone. I'll take care of her tonight. That's it. I won't torture or bruise her. She's too important" Leo argued. There was even a bit of pleading in his voice.

"Give the phone to Christine."

Leonardo handed the phone to Christine with a mocking flourish.

"Alessandro," Christine said.

"Cara mia, are you alright?" 

"I'm fine" she answered looking at Leonardo.

"I'll be home tomorrow afternoon. So he wants to have sex with you, huh?" Alessandro roughly choked out.

"I'm sorry—I don't know why I came, but he called and he is your friend..." 

"Of course you came when he called—he's my old friend." Alessandro drew out a long breath and sighed, "as long as he doesn't hurt you, Christine."

"Alessandro! You're saying yes? You're giving him permission--" Christine asked incredulously. Leonardo smiled at her words.

"There's not another man I would trust taking care of you."

"That's insane—he just raped a girl!" Christine replied hotly. Leonardo raised an eyebrow at her after hearing "raped".

"He would never hurt you—that I believe. If you just don't want sex that's another matter. But I'm sure you do and if he wants to have you, then fine. He covets you too much, but he is like my brother."

"So now incest is ok?"

"Christine, no, my point is you may refuse him. But otherwise he can have you, because he has my permission."

"You two have some bizarre, twisted little relationship. Have you ever fucked his wife?" Christine asked biting back tears.

"No, she's an evil bitch just as Leonardo says—no one wants her. And don't tell me you didn't get off watching him with his intern."

"Alessandro—"

"Cara mia, I love you. I'll see you tomorrow. It's your call with Leonardo. My meeting is about to start, I need to go, Christine."

"Fine," Christine said crying, "go to your meeting." They said bye and she hung the phone up.

Leonardo looked at her, questioning her.

"He said you have his permission—it's my choice" Christine bit out.

She stared at him with her red rimmed eyes filled with tears. She had crossed her arms. Leo rubbed his hands up and down her arms.

"So I just have to convince you that you need release?" Leo asked smiling.

"Bastard," she thought.

Leonardo was quite satisfied. She would not refuse—ultimately she would capitulate. She was submissive at heart. Leonardo truly believed all women were and secretly craved to submit to men. Course, he volunteered this only to his friends. It wasn't appropriate in all social and political circles. Not that he hadn't taught more than a few constituents what submission to him meant. 

Christine was watching him. He finally made a move.

He leaned down and kissed her softly on the mouth. She gasped in surprise and tried to back away, but he held her arms firmly.

He forced her mouth open with his tongue. She stayed rigid in his arms at first, but then relaxed and gave way.

"You taste very good, my angel" he said softly. She was looking down. Leonardo brought one hand down and rubbed her pregnant tummy. He listened to Christine's heavy breathing. 

"Go sit on the chaise lounge, Christine, please" he quietly asked her.

She walked over and sat there leaning back. He came and sat facing her. He reached over and caressed her breast, working his hand between the material of her bra and her bare skin. She laid there watching him. 

He then leaned over beside her and kissed the side of her neck. He forced the material of her dress down and brought out her breasts.

He kissed down her neck and then gleefully took a ripe pink nipple into his mouth. Christine cried out, but he knew she was trying to contain herself—mentally fight him. 

He rolled his tongue around her nipple and then sucked hard, while his hand caressed her other breast.

He dropped his hand and found the edge of her sundress. He slipped his hand under and stroked up her thigh.

She started moaning and responding to him. He brought his head up from her chest and kissed her lips. She accepted his mouth warmly. "Good girl," he thought.

His hand made it to her panties and felt how wet she was before he even got past them. She was soaked through. He smiled against her lips. 

"I want your panties off" he warmly commanded.

With his help, she did her best to struggle out of them. 

He fingered her wet pussy freely after they got rid of them.

"Oh angel, you are so wet. Do you want me to help you?" he asked her.

"Yes, please."

He slid down his body and pulled her down too. He pushed dress up and starting at her hips he kissed her down her left leg. He stroked her and caressed her. Then he did it again with her right leg. From between her ankles he looked up at her. She was watching him.

"Smile at me" he told her. She smiled—he actually thought it was fairly genuine.

She was on edge—she had no idea what he intended to do her. She wondered if he would keep his promise and not hurt her.

He came back towards her and spread her legs. Then he parted her glistening folds with his fingers. She bucked against him.

"Please...."

He stroked her with his fingers. She was already close. She had been building up to it for so long watching him.

He kneeled down on the floor and brought his head down.

As his tongue first grazed her pink flesh he felt her shudder. He felt her body arch toward his face. 

"Oh God yes," he heard her cry out as his tongue flicked at her clit.

She gripped the arm of the chaise lounge.

"Please, Leonardo, please!"

He worked her clit over harder. She would come in a minute. Her body was shaking all over. She was moaning and crying out.

Then he felt her buck against him and shudder. She screamed out to God and lay their panting. He came up and kissed her hard. She broke free still not catching her breath. He leaned down again and kissed her hard. 

He roughly caressed her breasts. 

He looked down at her as her breathing slowed. 

She looked at him turning red. She'd given in.

He stood and offered her his hand. She looked at him surprised and accepted. Neither of them had yet to say a word to each other. 

He pulled her up. She just stood there. He started to fix her dress and cover her breasts. 

She blurted out, "we're done?"

Leonardo looked at her with an innocent face, "I told you I wanted to help you get release, angel."

"But..."

"Don't worry, I'll be over tonight for dinner" he said smiling.

"You will not!" Christine said emphatically. 

"You are going to refuse a dear friend dinner?" he said looking at her reprovingly for bad manners.

She just shook her head. He'd be eating dinner with them.

"My children will be there."

"Wonderful, then they'll go to bed and the adults will have alone time."

"Great," Christine said sarcastically.

"You are so unappreciative—I just ate you out."

"Thanks for the orgasm, Leo"

"That was so insincere, sweet angel." He grinned at her. "Early American 6:30 dinner, Christine?"

"Yes."

"Ciao Bella." He kissed both her cheeks. And she turned and escaped out of his office.



The Linesman



It was another typical summer day in Antigua. The August heat had reached scorching proportions by the time Deidre dragged herself out of the air-conditioned bedroom following a mid-morning nap. It was now around 1:40pm. She was pleasantly surprised to find that her friends had gone off to work and left all the windows to the house opened to let in the breeze, knowing that the burglar bars and double bolt locks would provide enough security in this quiet neighbourhood. 

Deidre reveled in the feeling of the breeze blowing across her naked shoulders. She was wearing a beautiful tie-dyed dress that fit snugly on her upper body like a tube and had a flared bottom that ended just past her knees.

Going to the fridge for some cool water and an Anjou pear, Deidre gasped as a trickle of water escaped down her chin and rolled into the valley of her cleavage. Closing the fridge door, she let her hand follow the flow of the water, splaying her fingers across the top of her breast and chest. She absentmindedly rolled the cooling pear from her neck across her shoulder blades and down over her breasts.

Sighing, Deidre looked down at her peaked nipples standing erect and swollen. She licked her full lips as her mind recalled how perfectly the brown mounds had fit into the palms of her last lover, who used to love to cup her from behind, letting her fat nipples slip between two fingers as he palmed her breasts and squeezed her nipples in one motion. A tell-tale ache began in her nether regions at the thought. Giving the pear a lavish lick and pouty kiss, she took one big bite into its firm but yielding flesh, slurping the juice into her mouth.

Lying on the two-seater with her head propping against a pillow, one leg dangling on the ground and the other over the top of the sofa, Deidre absently replayed various sexually graphic scenes in her mind. Her job entailed frequent travel between the islands and it had been over five months since she'd had a lover, her last beau having returned to his homeland at the end of his contract. The growing ache in her pussy was a reminder that that delicate fruit had not been plundered in a while. 

Deidre finished off the pear, tossing the stem into the beautiful garden outside the window. The breeze coming through the two bay windows off the garden was cooling her smooth dark skin which already had a thin sheen of sweat as her blood heated from her lustful memories.

She pulled the top of the dress down past her breasts, her hands cupping them and squeezing as she moaned and clenched her pussy muscles. Her moans were soft and steady as she played with them, imagining other hands and mouths worshipping her breasts, licking and sucking her hard nipples, squeezing at her breasts until they squirted clear liquid into the air and her hips jack-knifed up, releasing tiny matching secretions from her pussy.

Straining her neck forward, she extended her tongue as far as it could go, laving her own breasts, intermittently being able to bite on the nipple before letting her head fall back to ease the neck strain.

One hand drifted down and bunched the skirt up, rolling the dress folds up to meet at her middle, and exposing her thighs and pussy to the wind coming through the windows to kiss at her flesh. Her fingers slowly parted the tiny yellow panties, going straight for the tiny hole at the center. She was barely moist on the outside, but with one inward thrust of a finger, a pool of sticky slime was released and her pubes instantly became a slime pit. This is the way it usually was, Deidre needed one tiny intrusion into her tight pussy to encourage the heated lava to gush out.

Deidre was beyond herself now. She knew that she would be alone for hours to come in her friends' home and the months of pent-up longing for some action was just too much. Savagely pulling and squeezing her nipples until they gave off tiny shoots of pain, she slammed three small fingers into her slimy pussy, stopping now and again to circle and pinch her wet clit. Her two hands went down to her crotch as she tried to give more stimulation to that area, splaying her lips apart with one hand whilst the other diddled her tiny clit, causing her stomach to clench with the sensation.

This was too much; it had been over two weeks since she'd given herself a good release. Jumping up, she rushed into the bedroom and searched through her bag until she found her little make-up case containing her hidden treasures. Triumphantly she pulled the pink rabbit and nipple clips from the case, rushing into the bathroom to give them a rinse under the sink. Grabbing a towel from off the rack, she returned to the family room, right under the windows, putting the towel down on the sofa.

Now down to business. Deidre closed her eyes as she guided the shaft of the dildo into her mouth, licking around the head before closing her full lips over it. She let her tongue extend along the underside, imagining that it was a lovely cock penetrating her hungry lips as she slurped and drooled over it. Slowly pulling it out, she rubbed the shaft over her cheeks and lips before sliding it down to her firm breasts and hitting it against her nipples.

Still standing, Deidre propped one foot up on the sofa, grabbing the dress in one hand and pulling the bottom through the top to hold it in place. She rubbed the cock against her bald pussy, glorying in the feel of it meeting all that slimy wetness and gliding over her clit. Turning the vibrator on, she continued to drag it from the hole of her pussy, allowing the ridged shaft to press against her clit as she worked her hips in a gyrating movement.

"Oh fuck, yes", she murmured repeatedly as the tingling vibrations racked across her flesh. Giving the tender inside of her thighs five quick, hard slaps, she roughly jammed the dildo into her upright flesh, biting back a scream as it plunged into her spasming pussy. "Aaahhhh", Deidre cried out as her tightness enveloped the sweet cock.

Holding still, she clenched her pussy muscles tightly, one foot on the sofa and the other on tiptoe, as she let her tight pelvic muscles suck on the hard shaft inside her body and pulse as she gingerly stroked her clitoris. This never failed to bring her to orgasm (and often left her lovers screaming at the sensation). With a hard gasp, she squeezed her breasts as her release suddenly hit her and she allowed her body to fall to the floor, sinking to her knees and bending over with her head on the sofa as she let the waves of pleasure wash over her.

After a brief pause, Deidre was ready for some serious fucking. She plucked the throw pillow off the sofa, placing it under her head, and stretched full out on the ground with her legs splayed wide open on the sofa. Turning the rabbit vibrator switches to the desired rotations for the clit stimulator and dildo, Deidre began an easy in and out fucking motion, savouring the feel of the rabbit ears wriggling against her sensitive clit as she held the dildo deep inside with each inward movement. 

One hand was busy slapping her pussy mound, thighs and nipples as the other relentlessly jammed and twisted that sweet cock into her tight pussy. Deidre's hips were busy lifting and grinding in that wild dance that black women had made into an art form. Her head was lifting and thrashing on the floor and pillow as she vocally and loudly expressed her need and pleasure. 

Another orgasm overtook her and she held her body still as long as possible to just concentrate on the feeling of the hard shaft pushing its way almost to the tip of her womb as the rabbit ears stimulated her clit. With a loud scream, Deidre's body jerked upright, hand flinging the dildo away as with both hands she cupped her pussy as if trying to stem the flood of molten lava that forced itself out of her jerking, twisting body. 

It took a bit longer this time for Deidre to come down to earth and as she did so she savoured the taste of her sticky fingers, tongue licking all between them to get the cum from her fingers. Laughing, she cupped both breasts in her palms, again straining her neck to lick the hungry, erect nipples.

Deidre was feeling alive and sweaty, that last orgasm had left her feeling slightly swollen but all woman. She knew however that she had a little something left for a third and final one. It had been some time since she had so much free space to masturbate and she intended to enjoy it to the max!

One place had been neglected thus far – her tight, fat ass. Like most Caribbean women, Deidre was packing big, beautiful buns of steel. She drew the line at being ass fucked by a cock, but she loved the stimulation of a finger or two up her tight butt. She quickly stepped completely out of the dress, tossing it onto another chair.

Deidre retrieved the nipple clamps and after a few squeezes of her breasts and swirls of her tongue, attached them to her hard nipples. The immediate painful pinch always started an answering ache in her pussy, and she lightly flicked on the suspended clamps to make them wobble, setting off new sensations. Deidre picked up the dildo, bringing it first to her nostrils to take in the subtle scent of her almost dried juices on the shaft before laving the head with her wet tongue.

Going to the dining table, she leaned her body over until one elbow supported her upper body, pushing her ass back and splaying her legs open. The breeze coming through the window caressed her naked body as she reached back to deliver a series of hard slaps to her tight ass. Her nipples simultaneously jerked as the clamps brushed against the edge of the table, delivering a painful tug as she warmed up her tight ass. Delicious gasps of pleasure/pain escaped her lips.

Deidre carefully played with her clit and pussy, slowly encouraging new secretions of gooey slime to emerge, which she let her fingers entice to the entrance of her anus. Rubbing from her pussy to her asshole in long strokes with one hand, Deidre lightly massaged the underside of her breasts with the other, helping her body to prepare itself for another fucking session.

Soon she was able to easily move one finger slowly in and out of her lubed asshole. Deidre loved the feel of that digit going in and out, especially as the knuckle moved outside the hole each time. She easily added another sticky finger, loving the strain of her hand reaching back to fuck her ass as the nipple clamp painfully perched on her throbbing breast. She imagined that she was bent over the table like that, holding her ass cheeks open for her lover as he slowly prepared her ass for a good fucking.

Deidre could feel the slime oozing from her well-fucked pussy, making it easier for her to fuck her ass harder and faster as she grinded against her own fingers. Taking the dildo from the table, she inserted her other hand under her body and turned the vibrator on full speed to massage her clit. Releasing both nipple clamps, Deidre screamed as the blood rushed back into her nipples and plunged the two fingers back into her tight but slimy asshole, head thrashing as she rubbed her sore nipples on the wooden table, held the vibrator lightly against her swollen clit, and reamed her own ass. "Oh shit ... fuck me ... fuck me ... FUCK MEEEEEE ...!!!!!" Deidre screamed as she lost all control. Her head swam and tears ran from her eyes as she let her body find its third release in the heat of the afternoon. She tried doggedly to hold onto the vibrator as her ass muscles trapped her fingers inside that tight hole, clenching on them whilst her pussy felt as if it would explode and spew a flood of liquid fire all over her legs. Her harsh shuddering was raking her wonderfully abused nipples against the table and adding to her little squeals of ecstasy.

For a few seconds that seemed like minutes Deidre lost all sense of place or time as she rode this final orgasm to its peak. Vaguely she heard someone sobbing and drawing harsh breaths in between loud moans. She knew it was her only from past experience of her animalistic behaviour. As the tremors slowed, Deidre slowly looked over her shoulder at her hand and down to her fingers that were still stuck lewdly up her ass, trapped as her body had gone rigid as she rode her orgasm.

She slowly smiled as she admired her beautiful body and high, firm ass. Deidre shook her head in wonderment, it was definitely time to find another lover, maybe now that her rotation was making her stay over in Antigua two days each week she would have time to hook up with someone. She shook her head at the impossibility of such a thought.

Looking back around and at the sky through the bay window, Deidre froze as she found herself looking directly into the eyes of a man suspended on the electrical poles. In amazement she watched as he tried to ease his rigidly swollen cock back into his pants. What the fuck? She couldn't believe that a linesman had been up there all that time she was enjoying her afternoon masturbation session. It had never even entered her head to look up all the time she was in front of the window.

With a big smile in his direction, Deidre slowly eased her finger from her asshole. Leaning right over, she wickedly spread her legs and pulled her ass cheeks apart, opening her ass and pussy for his fiery gaze whilst looking through her legs with her tongue stuck out. She laughed as his hand tightened on the shaft of his fat cock and he bent over as if stomach punched. She licked her lips as she thought about wrapping them around that fat, swollen cock.

Damn, things are looking up, Deidre thought, as she turned around and went to the window. Sticking her upper body outside, she quickly surveyed the scene, realising that he was alone. Lifting her breasts provocatively and pointing them at him, she asked boldly:

"Would you like to come inside for some refreshment? This afternoon heat is really hard on the body, and I'm sure I can find something to cool you down."