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Victims And Volunteers

By: JimBob44



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




Chapter 1

Julie Chamblee hands shook as she tried to unscrew the cap from the rum bottle. George had screwed it back on, and as usual, had screwed it on so tightly, she couldn't get it off.

On the other bed, George pumped his short fat cock in and out of Marco's slimy ass. The two men feverishly kissed each other, thrusting their tongues in each other's mouths while George pounded in and out of Marco.

"Fuck!" Julie complained and stuck the cap into her mouth.

She used her molars to open the bottle and got out of bed. There was no ice in the plastic bucket, just a puddle of gritty water. The can of Diet Coke was warm, but Julie was beyond caring at this point. She splashed some of the flat dark liquid into a plastic cup, and then filled the cup with the rum.

Draining the glass did not still her shaking limbs, and the artificial sweetener did not rest well on her empty stomach.

She turned and looked at George's well muscled back and buttocks. She watched as Marco's legs, loosely wrapped around George's slim hips, bounced around under the force of George's thrusts.

Julie watched a trail of semen as it bubbled out of George's rectum, and trickled down George's hairy testicles.

Suddenly, Julie felt very ill, and ran to the bathroom.

"Aw, yeah, aw fuck yeah," George groaned as he shot stream after stream into Marco's clutching bowels.

When Julie staggered out of the bathroom, George was sucking Marco's short cock and finger fucking Marco's gaping rectum.

"Fuck, why'd you get rum, huh?" Julie complained. "Fucking hate that shit, ass hole."

"Store's right there, bitch; you can get what ever the fuck you want," George said, interrupting his cock sucking long enough to point in the general direction of the convenience store.

"Fine, fine, mother fucker," Julie spat, looking around for her clothing.

When she had met George and Marco in the treatment facility, they thought it was a hoot that they were all from the Bender/DeGarde area of Louisiana.

"Come all the way to Crestview, Florida and here y'all are," Julie had laughed.

In Group that night, Marco admitted that he was there to try to get off of meth. His reason was that his former girlfriend was expecting their baby and, even though she was now living with a 'no good rich mother fucker that stole her from him' he wanted to be a part of his baby's life.

"Plus that," the counselor said dryly, "It looks good for the judge when it comes time for sentencing, huh Marco?"

George flexed his muscles and admitted that he was there to try to get off the meth as well.

"Beating your boyfriend nearly to death wouldn't have anything to do with it, huh? The counselor asked.

"I am not gay!" George denied.

"Whatever," the counselor smirked. "A lot of straight guys live with cross dressers, right?"

"Mother fucker!" George yelled, getting to his feet.

"Sit your ass down before I knock it down, George," the counselor said, unperturbed by George's anger.

After group, Julie, Marco, and George sat down in the break room, sipping their cups of decaffeinated coffee.

"I um, I, you know, I did a couple of months, you know, in Bender's Lock Up?" Marco said quietly.

"Yeah? What for?" George asked.

Marco launched into a long story, embellished by many humorous anecdotes that made him look tough, almost heroic and certainly daring.

"But, um, you know, I mean, I love me the ladies know what I'm saying?" Marco said, lowering his voice. "But ain't nothing wrong with you know, slipping a little to a guy, you know, if they're down with that."

"I'm not gay," George denied.

"Fuck, ain't nobody saying you are," Julie said quickly. "Personally? I think that'd be so fucking hot, though, a three way? With two guys didn't mind doing each other."

"Oh yeah?" George asked, interested.

"Yeah, I mean, you guys are always going on and on about how hot it is when two girls fuck each other; why can't I think it's hot for two guys to fuck each other?" Julie asked.

"Julie, phone," a nurse waddled into the break room.

Julie went to the lobby, picked up the telephone and spoke with her husband, Mike Chamblee, then her daughter Andrea. Mike did put their younger daughter on the phone and Julie made the appropriate noises, but Kasie did not respond and after a moment, Mike ended the telephone call.

Four days later, against medical advice, Julie, George, and Marco checked out of the treatment facility and, using Julie's credit card checked themselves into a room at the Crestview Lodge.

Julie managed to get two hundred dollars out of an ATM and George found a source of met.

Meth was not Julie's drug of choice; she wanted alcohol. She loved alcohol, vodka in particular. George took some money, went to the convenience store (Julie was too paranoid after smoking meth, reacting badly to meth) and bought a pint of rum.

"Fuck, a pint?" Julie complained.

"Fuck, how much you need?" George asked.

"More than this," Julie snapped, and proved her point by drinking the entire pint in one swallow.

****

Julie staggered out of the motel room, got her bearings, took a few steps and almost fell down. She could not remember the last time she had eaten, couldn't even remember what day it was.

It had been a Tuesday when they'd checked out of Crestview C.D.U. but that didn't help her right now.

She entered the convenience store at a staggering run and almost fell over as she stood in front of the ATM. She found her card, inserted it, and punched out the numbers. Nothing happened, so she cleared the screen and entered her PIN again.

"Something's wrong with your ATM," she spat at the clerk, a scrawny Asian man.

"Not my machine, you call number, they come fix," he shouted.

"Come on, ass hole, it's in your store, get off your ass and help me here," Julie spat.

"Not my machine, number right there, you call number," the man insisted.

"Please?" Julie decided to try charming the man. "I'd really appreciate if you'd..."

Six years earlier, when Julie Vogel was eighteen, she had been a striking beauty. Her hair had been long, lustrous blonde locks that surrounded a round face and fell to the middle of her back. Her skin was lightly tanned, free of blemishes, and her large blue eyes mesmerized most boys and men that looked into them. Her nose was a small snub nose above full, pouting lips.

Her breasts were an impressive thirty six D cup, her waist, according to the chain that one of her lovers had looped around it, was twenty six inches, and her hips were a womanly swell of thirty two inches.

Her backside was compact, but was still rounded enough to look good in snug jeans, and in miniskirts. The miniskirts did highlight her sleek, lightly tanned legs, legs that she enjoyed wrapping around multiple men, other than her husband, Mike Chamblee.

Six years, two children, and countless bottles of vodka later, Julie looked nearly twenty years older than her age, was at least seventy pounds overweight, and was nearly yellowed in skin tone. Her hair was filthy (neither she nor Marco or George had used the motel's barely adequate shower yet.) her eyes were bloodshot, and her body odor was intolerable.

Again, she smiled what used to be a seductive smile at the man behind the counter.

The clerk almost smirked, but instead just repeated his statement.

"Can you at least get my card out? It's stuck," Julie asked.

"You call number; they come fix," the man repeated.

Julie checked her purse and found a few dollar bills stashed in a side pocket.

"Fine, fine, mother fucker, give me a fifth of the Dobro vodka; how much is that?" Julie spat.

"Five dollar twenty nine cent

Julie grabbed a can of regular Coke from the cooler, and grabbed a bag of powdered doughnuts and added that to the fifth of vodka.

When she staggered back to the motel room, both George and Marco were smoking more meth. Julie did not ask where they'd gotten the money for the drugs; she didn't care.

It had been fun, exciting, the first night they entered the motel room. Julie had wasted no time at all in stripping and proudly displaying her fat breasts to the two males.

(In her eyes, she was still the very desirable eighteen year old Homecoming Queen of St. Thomas Aquinas, not a bloated alcoholic woman.)

George, in an effort to prove that he was not gay, immediately began to tongue her thick blonde thatch.

Julie reached out to Marco and took his small cock into her mouth.

Then she pushed Marco's head close to George's short, fat cock.

She did not orgasm; George was unskilled in eating pussy. Both Marco and George did orgasm. Julie hated the taste of semen, but swallowed Marco's thin spurts.

Then both men took turns pumping in and out of her pussy before Marco offered George his ass.

From that moment on, Julie was almost an afterthought, getting cock only when one or the other was high enough to fuck her.

Standing in the doorway, watching the two lovers using their drug of choice, Julie briefly considered turning around and walking out. That thought was replaced with the sobering knowledge that there was nowhere for her to go.

Chapter 2

It was only by chance that Julie heard the muffled squeak of her cell phone. Opening the cheap plastic suitcase, she dug around until she found her cell phone.

Bending over hurt, walking hurt, trying to focus on the display of her cell phone hurt.

She carried the cell phone into the bathroom and squatted over the commode. Wiping herself clean, she noticed some spotting on the rough tissue and winced.

She did not remember saying it, but she supposed, in a drunken stupor, fueled by meth, she might have given voice to her thoughts. Both George and Marco claimed she declared that the two of them were faggots and that was a good thing, because with their tiny cocks, they'd never be able to satisfy a woman.

George had grabbed her, shoved her onto her belly, and jammed his cock into her tightly clenched bowels.

"This tiny?" he screamed in her ear. "Huh? It tiny now, you fucking fat cunt?"

Julie did remember thinking, "Fucking me up the ass just proves even more that you're a faggot."

She did not say it out loud, though; she could tell that George's rage would not have been limited to sodomy. Marco, Julie guessed, to curry favor with George, had also sodomized her, then had jammed his fist into her pussy and fisted her to an unwanted orgasm.

Even now, hours later, she could still feel his fist punching in and out of her, could still hear George cheering Marco on.

The cell phone squeaked again, indicating that there was a voice mail on it.

"Listen," Julie heard Mike's voice, harsh and tight, "There is a bus ticket waiting for you at Crestview Greyhound; you ever want to see your kids again, I strongly suggest you waddle your fat ass down there and get on the next bus home."

There was a long pause.

"Julie, I am sick of this shit, you hear?" she heard her husband's voice spit out. "Just be on that bus. You got until Friday get your fat ass home or don't bother."

Julie was outraged; how dare he think he could order her around.

She looked at the date on the cell phone display, did the math in her head and figured out it was now Wednesday.

She pulled her filthy panties back up and flushed the toilet. Suddenly, an overwhelming weariness overcame her and she sat down on the bathroom floor.

George staggered into the bathroom two hours later, flicked on the dim light and saw Julie sitting, vacantly staring at nothing. He emptied his bladder, flushed, and then gave her a nasty kick as he left the bathroom.

Julie stood on shaky legs, lurched into the small tub, and turned on the hot water tap. Warm water finally gurgled out and she peeled her blouse, bra, and panties off. 

Neither one of the two towels in the bathroom was especially clean, but she dried herself as best as she could, and then staggered out of the now humid bathroom.

On one bed, Marco and George slept, entwined with each other. 

Julie took a clean bra out of her suitcase, but could find no clean panties. Shrugging, she pulled on a pair of jeans, a sweater, and some socks.

George and Marco had not stirred; Julie stealthily crept over to where Marco's duffel bag lay. An inside pocket revealed his wallet and his wallet yielded Julie a cache of thirty three dollars.

She didn't press her luck by searching the dark room for George's bag; George was dangerous when angry.

Julie decided the remaining clothing in her suitcase was just to dirty, too disgusting (she could smell the overwhelming body odor on the clothing) and simply left the suitcase right where it was. Her purse was the only thing she took with her as she left the room.

George woke up when he heard the door slam, groggily got to of the bed and looked around for the last of the meth. Not finding it, he slapped Marco until the smaller man woke up.

"Where the fuck is it, huh? Bitch? Where the fuck is it? Had a whole corner left; ain't here now, mother fucker," George screamed.

"Fuck man, I don't know; maybe that fat bitch smoked it, huh?" Marco lied.

"Bull shit, cock sucker; fat cunt don't even like that shit," George screamed and gave Marco a savage punch to the face. 

George continued to punch Marco until the smaller man quit moving.

****

The bus station was nine blocks from the Crestview Lodge; with very limited English, the Latina clerk of the convenience store had given Julie directions.

The woman behind the tick pane of glass looked as if she had never smiled in her life and regarded Julie with unguarded suspicion as Julie wobbled toward her.

"My um, my husband called me, said y'all got a ticket for me?" Julie asked, yelling through the metal grate.

"Don't need to yell; can hear you just fine," the woman spat.

"Ticket to DeGarde? Louisiana?" Julie asked.

"Name?" the woman asked.

"Julie. Julie Chamblee," Julie said and dug out an ID.

"Yes ma'am, right here," the woman agreed and slid the ticket packet through the tray.

"Um, if I cashed this in, how much I get for it?" Julie asked.

"Nothing; it'd be credited back to the credit card," the woman snapped. "We don't give out cash for tickets when they were bought with credit cards." 

"Just checking," Julie said and looked at the ticket.

The display on her phone showed that it was now eleven twenty eight in the evening; the bus, according to her ticket, would be leaving at one forty in the morning.

Julie wondered if she had time to go back to the convenience store and buy a few more pints of vodka; she had three pints stashed in her large purse. Stepping out into the dank night air, she was suddenly gripped with an unexplainable fear and ducked back into the station.

The station sold stale sandwiches, tiny bags of chips, snack cakes, and lukewarm sodas. Julie bought two sandwiches and several overpriced bags of chips.

"Fresh ones come in at seven," the girl offered as Julie stuffed the sandwiches into her purse.

"By seven, I'll be long gone," Julie said and waddled to a hard plastic bench.

She ate one of the sandwiches and drank a warm soda, then hurriedly scampered to the restroom.

"Here; we lock it up after ten; damned transients like going in there, falling asleep," the old woman snarled as Julie frantically tried opening the bathroom.

****

Eight hours from Crestview to Atlanta Georgia, a three hour layover in Atlanta, and then an eleven hour trip from Atlanta to Jackson, Mississippi.

In Jackson, Julie bought more stale sandwiches, then dashed across the busy street to the convenience store and bought three more pints of vodka and some cold cans of Coke.

For five hours, Julie sat and waited, then finally boarded a bus bound for New Orleans. Knowing Mike would be less than pleased if she got off the bus reeking of alcohol; Julie finished the three pints before they reached New Orleans, Louisiana. For nearly three hours, she sat at the Lee Circle terminal and waited. Several times, she started to walk out of the terminal, desperate to find some place to purchase alcohol, but paranoia of the large city kept her prisoner in the terminal.

At three forty seven on Friday afternoon, she boarded her last bus, and settled down for the three and a half hour trip from New Orleans to DeGarde.

Lack of proper rest, lack of proper diet, and lack of alcohol made Julie extremely irritable and even the somewhat welcome sight of the DeGarde Inn, whose lobby served as the terminal for Greyhound did not lessen her irritability.

****

Julie easily spotted her husband, Mike, among the few people in the lobby. Mike stood at six feet, three inches so he was taller than most.

Julie looked at the handsome young man; he had a full head of dark hair, hazel eyes, and a straight, white smile. His shoulders were wide, his chest muscular, and his hips narrow. 

Julie wondered why she felt nothing but resentment, bitterness whenever she looked at Mike.

Before she could launch into a litany of complaints, Andrea screamed "Mommy!" and wrapped her skinny arms around Julie's legs.

"Hi Sweetheart!" Julie forced a happy smile and cheerfulness.

"Here, hold her," Mike ordered, thrusting Kasie into Julie's hands.

"Mike, I've already got my hands full with..." Julie snapped, but accepted the three year old girl.

"Mommy you all better now?" Andrea asked, looking up at her mother.

Mike and Julie had simply told the girl that Mommy had to go to a hospital; explaining alcoholism to a four year old girl wasn't an undertaking either parent was ready to tackle.

"I think so," Julie lied, trying not to react when Mike roughly looped Kasie's diaper bag over her shoulder.

"Me and Daddy prayed every night for you to get all better," Andrea said, dancing in her happiness to see her mother again.

Julie tried to listen to the chattering girl for a moment, and then looked up, then around. Mike was nowhere to be seen.

There was a coffee shop in the lobby; Mike's two vices were Dunhill cigarettes (Julie loathed the smell and taste of cigarette smoke) and coffee.

"Come on, let's see if Daddy went in here," Julie ordered and lugged both girls toward the small shop.

There was no sign of Mike.

"If he is outside smoking, can't even wait two fucking seconds to shove a cigarette in his..." Julie hissed and shoved the door open.

Mike was nowhere to be seen.

Julie looked for his car, a blue Toyota Camry, and did not see it.

A sudden blast of cold wind pushed Julie back into the lobby. 

"Here, come here, let's sit down and wait for Daddy," Julie said and Andrea followed her to the couch.

Julie dug her cell phone out and hit the number one. She waited, pursing her lips tight, and then tried the number 

Kasie apparently became bored with being held and squirmed mightily to get down. Julie didn't relinquish her hold on the three year old, though.

Kasie Rachael Chamblee suffered from Fetal Alcoholic Syndrome; Julie drank daily while pregnant with the girl. As a result, Kasie was severely brain damaged. Kasie was not, and most likely would never be potty trained. Her speech was primarily grunts; it was rare for her to make any distinguishable sound.  She did not listen, did not respond when called. She rarely cried, rarely laughed.

Julie knew if she put the child down, Kasie would run off, most likely run outside, putting herself in danger.

"No, no, Kasie, no!" Julie snapped and jammed the cell phone back into her purse.

"Excuse me?" she said, approaching the woman behind the front desk. "My cell phone seems to have died; is there any way I could use...?"

"Sure Sugar, help yourself," the woman smiled at the small child.

"Hi pretty girl, what's your name?" the woman asked Kasie.


Victims And Volunteers Ch. 02



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

Chapter 5

Julie smirked; it was nine thirty on a Wednesday and both Andrea and Kasie were going strong. She wasn't sure, but she could swear she heard Frank's heavy step coming up the stairs.

Sure enough, a moment later, he knocked on the door.

"Hi Mister Frank," Andrea greeted him, looking up from her coloring book.

"Sorry," Julie lied. "They went to Chucky Cheese with their grandmother and she let them both have Cokes with their dinner. It'll be hours before I can get them down."

She had been the one to give both girls the sugary sweet sodas; her mother had fussed about it to Julie, but Julie just smiled a secretive smile.

"That's fine," Frank smiled at Julie, and then nodded with his head toward the door. "Come see a minute?"

"Mommy will be right back; y'all don't get into nothing while I'm gone, all right?" she said and stepped out onto the concrete landing.

"Listen, cunt, Wednesday night is supposed to be my night," Frank angrily hissed, meaty paw squeezing Julie's right breast.

Julie's eyes nearly popped out of her head from the force of his grip.

"You fucking understand me?" he hissed, tightening his grip even more. "Huh? I don't know what kind of little game you think you're playing with me, but it's not going to work, hears?"

"Yes sir," she managed to gasp out, eyes watering from the pain.

"Them games might have worked with your husband," he said, twisting the breast in his grip. "But take a good look; I ain't your husband. I'm not going to put up with that kind of shit from some dumb ass whore."

"Yes sir," Julie whispered, sinking to her knees from his savage twist to her breast.

"Now, I'm coming back tomorrow night, hear? Tomorrow night and them kids better be in bed and you better be ready to entertain me, hear?" Frank asked and released her breast.

"Yes sir," Julie gasped out, new waves of pain stabbing through her flesh as the blood rushed in.

The next evening Frank was unsympathetic when Julie showed him the bruises his fingers had inflicted on her flesh.

"Let me tell you something," he said, easing his bulk down on her couch. "You try playing that shit on me again; it'll be the last time. I'll go get a bunch of day laborers and have your ass out on the sidewalk before you can even shit."

"You would..." Julie asked.

"In a heartbeat," he promised.

****

Julie lay on the couch; legs spread, and looked at the wall as Frank pounded his fat cock in and out of her.

"Sit up," Frank said suddenly, pulling his cock out of her slimy pussy with a 'pop.'

"Open wide," Frank said as he stood up.

Julie did and he pulled the condom off and began stroking his cock.

Here... It... Uh... Comes!" Frank wheezed and sends his semen spattering onto her face. He even managed to get a few strands into her hair, and then he casually wiped his cock across her face and shoved it into her open mouth.

"See you next week," he grunted after he had gotten dressed.

She didn't respond, just scurried to the bathroom.

She finished another fifth of vodka but couldn't drown her shame.

****

Wednesday night, she made sure that both Andrea and Kasie were in bed before nine o'clock. She debated whether or not she had time for a drink before he got there, but just as she reached for the bottle, his knock came.

He was gentle, asking her questions about the children, about any expenses she had incurred since the previous week, whether or not she'd heard from Mike. Then they shed their clothes and she flopped on her back.

"Got any, yeah, here we are," Frank muttered and pulled out her bottle of vegetable oil.

"What you need that for?" Julie asked, mildly interested.

Then she thought about it for a minute.

"Oh, no! You ain't sticking that thing up my ass!" she protested.

"Four hundred a month rent, a hundred utilities, another fifty bucks for cable, fifty for that telephone?" Frank asked, coating his cock with a handful of oil. "I can put my cock anywhere I want to."

He approached her, pushed her back onto her back, and then kicked a knee up onto the couch.

"Push them tits together for me," he ordered, wrapping them around his cock.

Julie strained her head, watching as he slowly fucked his cock between her two flabby breasts.

"Lick it when it comes out," Frank ordered and Julie strained to get her tongue to reach the cock head.

"Aw fuck yeah," he grunted and spewed his semen onto her chin and neck and breasts.

"Get yourself cleaned up then get your ass back here; we need to talk," Frank said, wiping his cock on her belly.

She ran to the bathroom and used a face cloth to clean her greasy breasts, neck and chin.

When she returned to the living room, he was already dressed and was sitting on the good cushion, the one that didn't have a spring threatening to pop through.

"Sit down, we need to talk," he ordered.

She perched herself on the edge of the couch, avoiding the spring.

"You're a whore," he began.

She wanted to argue but clamped her mouth shut.

"And not a very good one either," he went on.

She clenched her jaws and her fists tightly.

"Ever hear of the 'girlfriend experience?'" Frank asked her. "Know why it's not called the 'wife experience?' Because no one in their right mind would pay for the wife experience. A girlfriend gets herself dressed up, puts on make up, and tries to look nice for her man. A girlfriend does whatever the fuck she can to make her man feel good."

He smirked at her puzzled face. 

"A wife doesn't even bother shaving her legs; why should she? She's got her man. She thinks she can just flop on her back maybe once a week and that should be good enough for him. Then she gets all bitchy when he's had enough of her shit and gets herself the best fucking lawyer she can, hoping, even in a No Fault State like Louisiana, that she'll bleed the mother fucker dry," he went on.

"You; I'm paying you for the girlfriend experience but I'm getting the wife experience," he said. "Fuck, look at you; ever hear of putting on a little make up? Huh? Ever think maybe you might want to maybe get a little dressed up? Think maybe you ought to be a little more active, rather than just flopping on your fat ass and saying 'come on, get it over with.'  Huh?"

She opened her mouth, and then closed it, having nothing to say.

"That thing between your legs? Guess what, Sweetheart? It ain't made out of gold; it's made out of flesh, just like every other twat in the world," he said. "And guess what? It ain't magic either; it's human."

He got to his feet.

"Honey, I know you don't want to be a whore; well tough shit, you are, get over it," he coughed, reaching for a cigarette.

He shook one out, then put it back into the pack.

"You know the girl downstairs?" he asked. "Tori?"

She shook her head no.

"Of course you don't," he sneered. "Fuck if you could bother to be interested in anything outside of yourself, huh?"

He smirked as she shifted her bulk to the other cushion, away from the offending spring.

"Anyway, she's a whore too," he said. "Ever wonder where I go after I leave here?"

"I um, I just thought you went home," she admitted.

"Fuck, I get here at nine; I don't leave here until one, two o'clock in the morning," he growled. "Tori make sure I stay. She don't act like she's doing me a favor; she acts like I'm doing her the favor. She don't act like sunshine leaks out of her box; she acts like sunshine comes out of my cock."

He again shook a cigarette out and put it between his lips.

"She takes the time to clean herself up, puts on a little make up, even gets dressed up; knows I got a thing for them garter belt things?" Frank said, lighting the cigarette. "Fixes me a drink; got a fifth of Johnny Walker Black, fixes me a drink, takes my shoes and socks off, rubs my feet, makes love to my feet while I have my drink."

He opened the door.

"You need to take the time, go downstairs, get to know her, get a few lessons from her; think of it as 'Whore one oh one' or something," Frank said and stepped out, blowing a stream of cigarette smoke. "And she's got a little girl too; just turned five. Do Andrea some good to have a little friend she can play with, even if y'all are just whores."

****

"And is she real nice, Mommy?" Andrea was asking as she skipped along her mother.

"Damn, Andrea, I don't know; I never met her," Julie snapped. "

She wanted a drink; there had been less than half the fifth of vodka; that was gone in three drinks.

Franks words still burned her ears; 'even if y'all are just whores.'

She paused in front of Apartment 2, the apartment right underneath her own, steeled herself, and then knocked on the door.

A moment later, an attractive young woman opened the door.

Her hair was black, long, hanging down to the middle of her back. She wore it parted on the right, letting it fall in front of the left side of her round face.

Her eyes were chocolate brown, large, open slightly in surprise.

Her skin was light brown, the color of caramel.

She stood, slightly taller than Julie, but was considerably slimmer than the bloated Julie. Her breasts appeared to be large behind a crisp linen blouse, her waist looked narrow, and her hips flared out very nicely. Her shorts were black, seeming to accent the light brown of her thighs and calves.

"Hi, I'm um, I'm..." Julie said.

"Oh, I KNOW who you are," the woman hissed hatefully. "Little Miss Julie 'my shit don't stink' Vogel."

Julie stared in shock at the stranger.

"I um, well, it's um, it's Chamblee now, do I know you?" she stammered.

"You don't remember me, huh? Well, I sure as fuck remember you, bitch," the woman snarled. "EW, Miss Bonham, why I got to sit behind an ugly n*gger? EW, Miss Bonham, I should be sitting in front of her; I'm smarter than some stupid n*gger! Remember any of that?"

Julie covered her mouth with her free hand.

"That's right, Victoria Underhill," the woman spat. Miss Bonham made us sit in alphabetical order and you pitched a fit. Had to put up with that shit the whole fucking fourth grade."

"Victoria, I am so, so sorry!" Julie whispered, still in shock.

"Sorry?" Tori laughed bitterly. "I went home every day, crying my ass off and you're sorry?"

"Victoria, I, what else can I say?" Julie stammered.

"You can take your fat white ass on the fuck away from..." Tori yelled.

Julie felt Andrea clutching her leg.

"I will," Julie promised. "I will take my fat ass some place else, but my daughter, Mr. Frank, he said you have a daughter; this is Andrea, I was hoping..."

Tori looked down into the frightened face of a smaller version of Julie.

At Isabella Underhill's fifth birthday party, there had been four people; herself, her mother, Mr. Frank, and Isabella. Tori looked back up into the pleading eyes of Julie and glared.

"Yeah, I got a daughter; Isabella; she's five," Tori said.

"Andrea's four and a half," Julie said, trying to push Andrea closer to Tori.

"I hear the 'N' word come out of your kid's mouth, I swear to God, I will pick up a brick and beat the white right off of you, you hear?" Tori snarled at Julie.

"You got it," Julie agreed.

"Isabella!" Tori called out.

"Yes ma'am?" A light skinned girl asked from behind Tori.

"Someone to see you," Tori said, stepping aside slightly.

The two girls regarded each other silently.

"You like Barbie?" Isabella asked finally. "Mr. Frank got me a Barbie for my birthday."

"I don't know, I don't have no Barbies," Andrea admitted.

"Why don't y'all go to your room?" Tori asked sweetly. I'm sure Andrea would like Barbie once she gets to see her."

"Okay, I um, I live right upstairs..." Julie said as her daughter followed the other girl into the apartment.

"Oh no, nuh uh, I ain't watching your kid for you!" Tori spat. "You carry your fat ass in here; keep an eye on your own kid."

"Oh, um, okay," Julie stammered and entered the apartment.

The floor plan was identical to her own apartment. But Victoria Underhill's furniture was much nicer. The couch was a light floral velveteen as was the matching recliner. The television was mounted on top of a entertainment center. An expensive looking stereo was on the shelf underneath the television, and there were several movies and CDs next to the small speakers.

The dining room area of the living room/dining room area was heavy looking; the four chairs also looked sturdy. Next to the door was a heavy looking china cabinet.

"Guess you might as well sit down, let me just finish this up," Tori snapped and Julie saw that there was a small desk in the corner, hidden next to the china cabinet.

Tori sat, typed very rapidly, then sat back and waited a moment.

"Mommy, look!" Andrea squealed, running into the living room.

She clutched a Barbie doll in her hands.

"I want one, please?" she begged.

"Well, not right now, but just as soon as I can," Julie promised.

She wondered if her mother had somehow held onto her old Barbie dolls from her own childhood.

"And see, you can..." Andrea explained what you could do with a doll.

"Can you do my hair like that?" Isabella asked, pointing to Andrea's French braid.

Julie had quickly done Andrea's hair that morning; the girl needed a good hair washing but Julie hadn't felt up to it. So, a quick comb then twist, and Andrea looked just fine. Kasie's hair was far too curly to worry about, so Julie left her hair alone. 

"If your mommy says it's okay," Julie agreed, looking at Tori.

"Go ahead; I'm waiting for this upload to finish," Tori said.

Julie put Kasie down on the carpeted floor and positioned Isabella.

"My goodness, your hair is so soft!" Julie complimented the girl.

"Thank you," both Tori and Isabella responded.

"And there, my goodness, that's a lot of hair, huh?" Julie said, finishing the thick braid. "Got a rubber band?"

"Wait, Tori said and got to her feet.

She returned with a hair band and Julie twisted it around the end of Isabella's long, dark hair.

Satisfied, the two girls ran off. Kasie just sat on the floor, looking around her.

"You, um, you want some coffee?" Tori finally asked.

"Oh God, I haven't had coffee in, yeah, I'd love a cup," Julie agreed.

"I got this coffee maker, makes one cup at a time, just one cup instead of you know a whole pot, you know how coffee kind of goes bad after a couple of hours?" Tori said from the kitchen.

Yeah, why I quit making it," Julie agreed. "Mike would drink one, maybe two cups then leave it there and it would taste like battery acid by the time I got around to it."

A moment later, Tori entered, carrying a mug. She indicated the table and Julie got up from the comfortable couch. Kasie did not move, just sat, staring at nothing.

"You um, think she might want some juice or..." Tori said, indicating Kasie.

"I didn't bring any extra diapers; wasn't sure if we'd be staying," Julie said in a low voice. "She has anything to drink; she'll be tinkling in a minute."

"Oh," Tori said, putting the mug down next to a sugar bowl and cream pitcher.

She returned a minute later with her own mug.

She looked over at Kasie, then frowned at looked at Julie.

"Um, she hasn't moved an inch; she okay?" she asked, nodded with her head toward Kasie.

"No, no she's not," Julie said, pursing her lips. "Fetal Alcoholic Syndrome. Severe brain damage."

She took a sip of her coffee.

"This is, um, this is great," Julie offered.

"Not bad for a stupid n*gger, huh?" Tori asked.

"Again, Victoria, I am so sorry about all that," Julie whimpered.

"My dad's mom was African-American, so my dad was only half African-American," Tori said, abruptly stirring in a heaping spoonful of sugar. "And my mom's white, so I got almost as much white in me as you do."

"I don't know what else I can say..." Julie weakly said.

"And Isabella's dad? One hundred percent white; makes her one eighth African-American," Tori went on.

"And she's a beautiful little girl," Julie offered.

"But if they don't have 'mixed race' on the paper I still got to check that little fucking box says she's African-American," Tori spat out.

Julie didn't know what to say, so she just sat in uncomfortable silence.

"You? You don't even have to worry about none of that shit; you just check 'white' and la de dah, you can go on your merry ass way," Tori said.

"Want another cup?" Tori asked when Julie put her empty cup down.

"No, no, I think we better get out of your hair," Julie hurriedly said.

"Yeah, well I got to get back to work," Tori agreed.

"But listen, thank you; the coffee was good," Julie said, getting to her feet.

"Yeah, well..."

"Andrea! Come on honey, time to go!" Julie called out.

"Aw!" two little girls whined.

"Look, I tell you what," Tori said. "They're having fun; they ain't bothering me none; why don't you let her stay here? I'll bring her upstairs, say, after lunch? We usually just have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and a fruit cup. That okay?"

"You sure?" Julie said, grabbing Kasie just as Kasie decided to try to grab one of Tori's CDs.

"Yeah," Tori nodded.

"Thank you," Julie said sincerely.

****

On their next meeting, Julie broached the subject of Frank Carrecci.

"Makes me wish every night was Wednesday," Tori said, sipping her coffee.

"You um, really?" Julie said, surprised.

I had eight maybe nine," Tori mouthed the word 'dicks' and smiled. "Most of them was just boys, didn't know what they was doing."

Julie had to agree; most of her countless cocks hadn't known what they were doing either.

"Frank takes the time make sure I'm ready before he" she mouthed 'sticks his cock in me' and looked over her shoulder to make sure that Isabella and Andrea were safely out of earshot. "And the size of his..."

She held up her hands nearly a foot apart.

"That's what I'm talking about!" she laughed.

"Really?" Julie looked at her, shocked.

To her, Frank Carrecci was a fat, smelly, disgusting pig, barely worthy of being called a man. To Victoria Underhill, though, Frank Carrecci was a very desirable man. It was obvious that she adored him.

"Look, what you got between your legs? It ain't nothing special," Tori said bluntly. "You got one; I got one, hell, even Old Lady Lewis in the next building over? She's got one."

She again looked over her shoulder but the two girls were playing quietly with their dolls.

"So, you got something between your legs, something he wants," Tori went on. "But him? He's got something you need."

"What?" Julie asked, slightly confused.

"That's right, he's got something you need," Tori affirmed. "A roof over your head. And let me guess; he's also paying your electric bill, your cable bill, right?"

"Yeah," Julie agreed.

"Okay, you got something he wants," Tori repeated. "But it ain't nothing special just because it's between your legs, but he's got something you need. Act like what you need is right there, right there between his legs."

She leaned a little closer to Julie.

"Act like it's the best thing you ever had, before you know it, it IS the best thing you ever had," Tori confided.

Again, Tori looked over her shoulder. Kasie sat on Julie's lap, staring at the pretty salt and pepper shakers on the table.

Tori stepped to the side, out of sight of the two girls.

"Now, I try to make what I got a little special," Tori said and unzipped her shorts.

"Julie stared at the hairless mound between Tori's legs.

"As much as that man loves," Tori mouthed the words 'eating pussy' and pulled her shorts back up. "I give him one he really likes eating.

Tori giggled at the sight of Julie's stunned face. She grabbed their mugs and danced into the kitchen.

Moments later, she returned with two mugs of coffee and put one in front of Julie.




Victims And Volunteers Ch. 02



"But let me guess; you been laying there acting like you some big old victim and he's all taking advantage of you and stuff, right?" Tori asked.

"Well, yeah, I mean, if Mike hadn't..." Julie sputtered.

"Shit, girlfriend, YOU ain't no victim," Tori smirked. "Her?"

She pointed to Kasie, who was getting ready to grab at the salt shaker.

"And?" Tori said and pointed over her shoulder to Andrea.

Julie moved the salt shaker out of Kasie's reach, which got a whining grunt from Kasie.

"They the victims. You?" Tori showed Julie that the salt and pepper shakers were empty and put one within reach of Kasie. "You the volunteer."

Kasie picked up the salt shaker and gave a grunting laugh as Julie playfully tried to take it away from her.

"You volunteered for all of this," Tori went on. "You volunteered have them kids, you volunteered to drink the whole time you was pregnant with her, you volunteered to..."

She looked over her shoulder again.

"Spread your legs for a place to live," she said in a low voice and smiled as Kasie handed her the salt shaker. "Thank you. I've always wanted a salt shaker!"

"No, those two?" Tori went on. "They're the victims; they ain't got no choice."

****

Frank knocked, Julie checked through the peephole, and then opened the door.

"Hi," she said cheerfully, and then kissed him on his lips.

"Hey, you um, well how about that, huh?" Frank asked, looking at Julie.

She had dug through her clothes, found a pale pink bra and matching thong panties and put them on. They were both a size too small, squashing her breasts and forming a much defined camel tow, but as she reasoned, she wouldn't have them on for long.

When Frank's knock came, Julie had been in her robe, but as soon as she verified that it was him, she shed the robe then opened the door.

"So, would you like to make love, or..." Julie asked, leading him over to the couch, letting him have the good cushion.

"Or...?" he prompted.

"Well, you did a pretty good job of tit-fucking me last time; I got a bottle of peanut oil this time, just for some tit-fucking, all right?" Julie offered, unclasping her bra and letting her large tits flop out.

"They are nice tits for that," he agreed.

"Oh, goody!" she smiled and skipped away.

"Here, let's lay a towel down; why don't you get out of those pants?" Julie offered.

He sat and watched as Julie knelt before him. She dribbled a little oil onto her breast, and then offered him the bottle.

"I don't know if I'm doing it right," she lisped in a little girl voice. "Will you do it, Mister Frank?"

He coated her breasts liberally, and then watched as she took his cock in between her breasts, and began to slowly masturbate his cock with her breasts.

"You want to shoot your white stuff all over my face, Mister Frank?" she asked. "You want to get it all over my face and on my titties?"

She ceased her stroking and looked up into his sweating face.

"Or, you want to tell me right before you shoot and let me get it all in my mouth? Get it all in my mouth so I can swallow all your delicious white stuff?" she asked.

"You tell me, Mister Frank," she said and again began jacking his cock.

"I kind of like creaming your face," he admitted.

"Oh good," she husked.

****

Frank had to sit on the top step and smoke a cigarette before he could wobble down the stairs to Apartment 2.

"Hi Handsome," Tori smiled when she ushered him into her apartment.

Inside, she was not smiling; he was nearly an hour late. She could guess why he was an hour late and she blamed that fat white bitch upstairs.

She put his drink on the small table next to the couch, then knelt down and undid his shoes. He sighed as she removed his shoes and socks, then used a warm washcloth to clean his feet.

Frank enjoyed watching the nude Tori kneel on the floor sucking his toes into her hot mouth.

"You're the best," he grumbled and sipped his drink.

She finished making love to his feet and reached for his belt buckle.

By the time she had his cock in her mouth; he was ready and blew a load down her sucking mouth.

"God, I love the way you taste," she whispered in his ear, while stroking his limp cock.

She then bent and took him into her mouth, then let his wet cock slip out of her mouth. She then traced her tongue around each hairy testicle. His cock slowly began to respond. She slapped the stiffening member with her tongue until it stood up proud. Then she slipped a condom onto it, straddled his legs, and lowered her dripping wet pussy onto it.

They made love twice; Frank was amazed that he could manage that many erections in one night.

"Baby, why you got to leave me?" she asked as he dressed.

"You got a little girl; don't need to see how Momma pays the rent," Frank mumbled.

"I've already told her you're my special friend," Tori snuggled her nude body against him.

"Uh huh," he smiled, kissed her, then wrested himself free of her.

Frank lighted a cigarette, pressed the automatic door lock on his key and opened the door to his Mercedes-Benz.

"Fucking whores, huh?" he smiled as he blew out a stream of cigarette smoke. "What you going to do, huh?"

Chapter 6

Julie smiled in triumph as she stepped onto the bathroom scale. It showed that she had lost another three pounds. She was almost back in her size fourteen slacks. She was far from her pre-pregnancy weight, her Homecoming Queen weight, but her thighs no longer jiggled when she walked, her ass no longer sagged.

A few months ago, Tori had smacked her, quite hard, on her ass.

"You um, you ever think you might do a push up or a sit up every now and then?" Tori asked.

"Hey, you try running around after two..." Julie had screeched.

"You ain't running; you barely crawl after them," Tori had sneered. "Oh, and um, hey, them hamburgers and hot dogs and potato salad and snack cakes? They ain't helping you none either."

Julie went on a sensible diet. She also began simple calisthenics. She then used Tori's computer and downloaded some simple Yoga movements, printing out the illustrations and trying her best to mimic them. And the scale said she was doing something right.

She was also alcohol-free. Tori had pointed out a very simple, logical solution.

"Don't drink it, you won't get drunk," Tori had shrugged. "So quit buying it."

So far, it seemed to be working. She had cravings, mind-numbing, sweaty cravings, but as long as she didn't go get it, she didn't drink it. She didn't drink it, she didn't get drunk.

She stepped out of the bathroom and quickly started breakfast. Oatmeal with brown sugar and cinnamon for Andrea and Kasie, some honeydew melon for herself.

As if they were on automatic relay, Andrea came stumbling into the kitchen, and Kasie started banging on the rails of her crib.

"You go potty?" Julie asked her daughter.

"Yes ma'am," Andrea agreed.

"And you washed them hands?" Julie prompted.

"No ma'am," Andrea admitted.

"Get in there," Julie playfully growled at her.

Julie scurried into the bedroom, got Kasie out, got her cleaned up, and got a clean diaper, then carried her into the living room/dining room combination.

"I hate oatmeal," Andrea declared, but put a spoonful in her mouth.

"I'm not all that crazy about it either," Julie agreed. "Thank God we don't eat it for breakfast, lunch AND dinner, huh?"

"That would be horrible!" Andrea shrilled.

Julie gave the girls a quick bath, complete with hair washing, then dressed them and walked them downstairs to Tori's apartment.

"Hey, just in time; we just finished our breakfast," Tori greeted them.

"Thank you so much," Julie said as she put Kasie's diaper bag by the door.

"Remember, you're watching Isabella tonight," Tori reminded Julie.

Uh huh," Julie agreed.

She then scurried back upstairs and hurriedly got ready.

Julie had asked Tori how she could afford the nice appliances, the gourmet coffee, the nice clothing for herself and Isabella.

"I mean," Julie said, then looked to make sure Isabella and Andrea were out of earshot. "Mr. Frank don't pay you THAT much, huh?"

"No more than you," Tori had snapped, then looked to make sure that Andrea and Isabella were still out of earshot.

"I do medical transcription on the side," Tori had explained and showed Julie the computer and the program she used. "That 'work from home' stuff you see on the 'Net? Some of that shit's legitimate, you know?"

She then sat down and sipped her coffee.

"First time I made enough money, I gave Frank that month's rent, and paid him for my electric bill and cable bill," she admitted. "Wednesday night comes around, no Frank, Next Wednesday; again, no Frank, then I figured it out."

"What?" Julie said.

"See, you looking at it like he's taking advantage of you," Tori said, sipping her coffee.

"He is," Julie wanted to point out but knew that Tori had her own opinion on that matter.

"And maybe he is," Tori conceded. "But in his mind, see, he thinks 'ain't no way a nice little hottie would ever want me' so he waits for a little hottie like me falls behind, needs some help, then he can be the knight in shining armor and can come and rescue us."

Julie didn't see much distinction between Tori's definition and her own. Knight in shining armor or opportunistic predator, he was still making her fuck him for the rent.

"So, I called him up, made up some bill I needed to pay, could I please borrow a couple of hundred, I'll pay him back, I swear and sure enough, he comes over and I ain't paid him back yet," Tori smiled.

Julie remembered her last job, with Young Insurance. They had used several off-site data entry clerks and had paid them fairly well.

True, Julie had been fired for showing up to work drunk, but that had been nearly two years earlier. It had been nearly two months since her last drink; she hoped Elizabeth Baggett was in a generous mood. She had called and somehow gotten an appointment with Elizabeth Baggett.

Now, she was getting ready for her job interview.

Her dress shoes went into her purse; she grimaced as she tried to zip the purse shut. The zipper was broken, the purse itself looked very shabby, but it was all she had.

She put on two pair of socks; the tennis shoes were a bit large on her feet, and started walking rapidly down Highway 52.

****

Andrea and Isabella were playing their usual game of dressing up their dolls, and chattering back and forth.

Kasie was just sitting on the floor, staring at the entertainment center.

Tori found the unresponsive girl a little disconcerting, a little unnerving. Because of her discomfort, she made sure to keep a watchful eye on the child while she worked.

Suddenly, Kasie got to unsteady feet and ran to the entertainment center.

"What is it, Kasie?" Tori asked.

Kasie did not answer, just grabbed at some of the CD cases and flung them to the floor.

"Want to listen to a little music?" Tori asked, even as she was slightly upset with the child.

She spotted 'K.C. And The Sunshine Band' among the CDs on the floor.

"Hey! Kasie! Look at this!" she laughed, showing the grunting child the cover. "K.C.; he's got the same name as you do! Let's see what he sounds like, okay?"

She put the disc in and hit 'Play.'

Kasie listened for a moment, and then laughed out loud as K.C. told everyone to 'Shake shake shake. Shake your booty.'

Tori watched as Kasie started bobbing her head in time with the music. Kasie then began to wave her hands around, and then wiggle her hips.

"Unnng!" Kasie complained as the song ended. "Unnng!"

"Wait, there's another one coming," Tori explained as she gathered up the CDs Kasie had thrown to the floor.

"Aw, that's the way, uh huh, uh huh, I like it, uh huh uh huh," K.C. told everyone and again Kasie laughed and danced to the music.

"Andrea, come see!" Tori called out.

"Yes, Miss Tori?" Andrea asked, running into the living room, followed by Isabella.

"Look!" Tori said, pointing to the dancing child.

"Oh my God!" Andrea squealed. "Hey Kasie!"

****

Julie was panting, sweating profusely, by the time she reached the Bender office of Young Insurance. She took a moment to wipe her face, and then quickly slipped off the tennis shoes and socks, donning the three inch heels.

"Hi, Julie!" Jacy Kay greeted her as she entered.

She and Jacy had worked together at Clark's Drive-In.

"Jacy, what's up, girl?" Julie smiled. "Supposed to see Elizabeth?"

"I'll let her know you're here," Jacy smiled.

Elizabeth greeted her warmly and had her sit.

"I got to admit, Julie, my first impulse was to tell you 'no, not just no but hell no' when you called, but then not one, but two data entry clerks decide to quit on us," Elizabeth admitted.

"And then I saw you walking here this morning; yeah, I drove right past you, dropping Eddie and Deonia off at their day-care so I know you're serious this time around," Elizabeth smiled. "So, you got the job; I'll send Oscar over to set up your computer. He'll explain how the software works, okay?"

"Thank you; you won't regret this, I swear," Julie said.

"Uh huh, now, let me get my keys; I'm not letting you walk all that way back," Elizabeth said, grabbing her purse.

Julie gratefully sank into the leather seat of Elizabeth's new Lincoln Towncar.

"Yeah, this is really Nadia's car but she would rather drive her pick up truck than this, so..." Elizabeth smiled.

Julie gave directions to the apartment complex and Elizabeth looked at her in shock.

"You walked? All the way from THERE?" Elizabeth asked.

"Ms. Baggett, I need the job," Julie stated firmly. "I would have walked twice that far if I had to."

"It's Elizabeth, not..." Elizabeth gently corrected.

"I mean, look at me; this is the best clothes I got. And Andrea? She's really starting to grow. Pretty soon she's going to need new clothes, new shoes. I mean, yeah, I can get all that stuff at the Bargain Bin but even there, it's not free," Julie admitted.

Elizabeth pulled up to the apartment building and Julie pointed upstairs.

"Tell Mr. Oscar I live in Apartment Four," Julie said. "What time you think he's stopping by?"

"If you call him 'Mister' to his face, I'm docking you a day's pay; last thing I need is him thinking he's something special," Elizabeth laughed heartily.

"Does he love you?" Julie asked.

"Well yeah," Elizabeth said, showing Julie the engagement ring she wore on her left hand.

"Then he IS something special," Julie said, showing Elizabeth her own wedding and engagement ring. "I had that and I threw it away. Now? I'm just a whore."

Elizabeth could not form a coherent response as Julie got out of the car. She watched, still stunned at Julie's admission as Julie smiled, waved farewell, and knocked on Apartment 2.

"It's open," Tori called out.

"And what is going on in here?" Julie demanded, smiling as the three girls danced to Dianna Ross and the Supremes.

"Look Mommy!" Andrea called out. "Kasie's dancing!"

"I see that!" Julie said.

"So? How'd it go?" Tori asked.

"I got the job," Julie laughed happily and kissed Tori on the lips. "I got the job!"

"You going to dance, Mommy?" Andrea asked as another song began.

"Nope, don't have a clue how," Julie admitted.

"I'll make us some coffee and you can tell me all about it," Tori said.

****

"Had to leave St. Richard's right after fourth grade; my dad decided he needed him an n*gger bitch make his life a living hell," Tori said, sitting crossed legged on the couch.

"Hey! I can't say that word; why you get away with it?" Julie asked.

"'Cause I'm black. Deal with it," Tori smiled.

"Uh huh," Julie shook her head.

"Yeah, he meets this Chalandra Jones and she's all preaching this shit, tells him he ain't got no pride in his roots 'cause he's living with a white woman," Tori continued. "Never mind he's half white, never mind that they're married; according to her, he is being a traitor to his heritage."

Tori put her coffee cup down on her end table.

"So he and my mom divorce; we ain't got the money for St. Richard's and I got to go to Andrew Jackson instead," Tori spat.

"God, I've heard some real..." Julie said.

"Yeah? They all true too; had drug dealers. In the fifth grade! Dealing drugs. Right there, in front of the teachers! Teachers didn't give a shit. Long as nobody gets shot, it's all good," Tori said.

"Damn, I didn't even know about drugs until I was in high school!" Julie said.

"Yeah, your lily white ass; you would be all innocent and shit," Tori teased.

"And you can kiss my lily white ass, too," Julie smirked.

"You wish," Julie smirked back. "But I go visit my dad and his new wife and, you think white people prejudiced? Aw no, girlfriend! They ain't got shit on them militant n*ggers! Chalandra? Hated me from the word 'boo' because I don't look black. Now, I don't look white neither, but, in her eyes, I'm somehow to blame for all the suffering and shit of 'her people.' Finally got to the point, I told my dad I didn't want to come over if she was going to be there."

She picked up her coffee cup and took a sip.

"Think he did anything? Fuck no. Took her side. Against his own child."

"I'm sorry," Julie said sincerely.

"Ain't seen him since; sent him a birth announcement when I had Isabella. Nothing. Not a word," Tori said. "Want some more coffee?"

****

Julie fixed dinner for the three girls and fought down the scowl as she heard Frank's car pull up. (She heard his car because she was listening for it.)

"Wait, what? He's taking you... His son's... Tori, why's he taking you to some awards banquet?" Julie had stammered.

"You mean, instead of YOU?" Tori had asked smug expression on her face.

"Well, yeah!" Julie admitted.

"I guess because there's going to be alcohol there," Tori had said.

Julie had simply turned and stomped away. She had no response for that.

She and Tori were now the best of friends; Julie could not remember ever being this close to another female, couldn't remember ever depending so much on another female. In high school, she had been the Queen Bee, but Queen Bees do not form friendships with their drones, the queen does not love her minions.

Julie truly did enjoy the cups of coffee the two would drink while their girls played together. There were a few times that they did not say anything at all, just sat together in comfortable silence. Julie treasured how close they were, how comfortable they were with each other.

But, when it came to Mr. Frank, Tori let Julie know, friendship or not, Tori was in competition with Julie and the other three women Frank was sleeping with. And Tori would stop at nothing to win Mr. Frank's heart.

Julie didn't want Mr. Frank's heart, didn't want him to fall in love with her, but did want to hang onto the security Mr. Frank provided.

****

Tori had bought the dress especially for this occasion; the red color accented her light brown skin beautifully and made her long dark hair look even darker. Her eye make up had been done to sultry perfection, her lips and nails were the same blood red as the dress, and her shoes were five inch stilettos.

"Wow, you look good enough to eat," Frank said.

"So do you; God, you are so handsome in that tuxedo," Tori said. "Do we have time for a drink or..."

"Where's Isabella?" Frank whispered.

"Upstairs; Julie's baby sitting," Tori smiled and poured a little scotch into a glass for him.

"She's spending the night with Andrea," she whispered in his ear as she handed him his drink. "So if you want..."

Tori playfully bit Frank's ear lobe.

"You can stay aaallll night," she husked into his ear.

****

"Unnng!" Kasie slapped Julie's cheap boom box 

"Now, how come you don't carry on like that about Taylor Swift?" Julie asked the girl as she put in one of the CDs Tori had burned for them.




Victims And Volunteers Ch. 02



"Momma says Taylor Swift don't got no butt," Isabella declared, which cause her and Andrea to squeal with laughter.

"As much money as that girl's got, she can go buy a butt," Julie said which made the two girls squeal even more.

****

The banquet had been somewhat of a disappointment; the University of Louisiana at DeGarde did not have a large budget for its Athletic Program, so the University did not splurge much on its banquet. The food was bland and it was a cash bar.

But Frank had very obviously been proud of his son, Anthony and Anthony's two awards. Tori had smiled as a very pregnant Lucy kept calling Anthony 'Antonio' and had glared possessively at Tori and any other female that came too close to Anthony Carrecci. 

Afterward, Frank took her to his modest home, took her to his bedroom, and made love with her.

Without the fear of waking up Isabella, Frank was much more aggressive, much more vocal.

"God damn it!" Tori finally called out, clamping her long, tanned legs around his flabby middle.

"Fuck! From now on, I want it like this!" she laughed and kissed him hotly.

"Now," she whispered in his ear. "You just lay back and let me..."

She slipped another condom onto his cock, and then greased it liberally.

"Here, reach back here and spread my ass, Baby," she husked, pressing the tip of his cock to her rosebud.

"Aw yeah," he growled as she slid an inch of his cock into her bowels.

"Damn, Lover, you're so big!" she husked, pausing to let her sphincter muscles relax around his cock.

"And you're so fucking tight," he groaned.

She rocked her hips from side to side and slid another inch into herself.

"Aw shit, no, no, no!" he howled and flooded his condom with his seed.

"Don't worry, Baby; we got all night," she whispered as his cock deflated.

At two in the morning, Frank declared that 'all night' had ended and rolled over to go to sleep.

Chapter 7

The five girls went outside; it was far too pretty a day to be cooped up inside. 

The grass had recently been cut; Julie had felt pity for Anthony Carrecci and had carried a glass of cold lemonade out to him. 

She asked about his wife and their baby daughter and made the appropriate noises.

"Named her Francesca," Frank had proudly boasted. "Hmm, wonder where they came up with that, huh?"

So with the grass freshly cut, the sun not too hot, a gentle breeze blowing, Julie, Tori, Isabella, Andrea, and Kasie trooped outside, pink ball in hand.

They sat, Kasie between her mother's legs, and rolled the ball back and forth. Kasie laughed happily when the ball rolled to her. She laughed happily as her mom clapped for her and encouraged her to roll it to Andrea, or Isabella.

Kasie laughed as Andrea, Isabella and Tori encouraged her, cheered for her.

Then, when the ball rolled to her again, Kasie grabbed it.

"Roll it to, oh, how about you roll it to Miss Tori? Okay?" Julie said 

Instead, Kasie got to her feet, clutching the ball and took off running, giggling maniacally.

"Kasie!" Julie laughed as the girl ran. "You come back here!"

Julie got to her feet and gave chase which made Kasie laugh all the harder.

"Got you, you little monkey!" Julie laughed and scooped the girl up.

"Lub oo," Kasie declared and hugged her mother's neck.

"Oh my God!" Julie said, stunned.

"I heard it too," Tori smiled, putting an arm around Julie's waist.

"Kasie's never said that before," Julie said, tears pooling in her eyes.

"You ever play with her before?" Tori pointed out.

"Kasie, you little monkey," Andrea laughed, shaking a finger at Kasie.

"Are you a monkey?" Tori asked the girl, combing loving fingers through the girl's curly hair.

"Say 'no, I'm a sweet little girl,'" Julie said, kissing the top of Kasie's head.

But by lunchtime, Kasie's new name was 'Monkey.' This, of course, made her laugh.

They trooped back to Tori's apartment for lunch; salads for Tori and Julie, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (with the crust cut off) for Andrea, Isabella, and Monkey.

"Okay, let me get these two upstairs for their naps," Julie smiled.

"No," Tori said, grabbing Julie's hand. "Stay; Andrea and Monkey can just take their naps with Isabella."

"Okay," Julie agreed.

There was no fussing as the three girls were laid down on the queen sized bed.

"Listen, where's, look, Isabella's going to St. Richard's for kindergarten; where is Andrea going?" Tori asked, pulling Julie onto the couch next to her.

"Oh my God; I haven't even, aw shit!" Julie gasped.

"Listen," Tori said and gave Julie a quick little kiss on her lips. "Only way I got Isabella into St. Richard's is Mr. Frank."

"He's, Tori! You got him to pay for..." Julie asked.

"No, silly; he's on the board," Tori said, linking her fingers with Julie's. "She's going under their 'disadvantaged' program. You need to talk to him; see if he can get Andrea in too."

She lifted their hands and kissed Julie's hand.

"If we'd been friends way back then, who knows, huh? I think I might have liked going to school. School's hard enough; having a best friend there..."

"He's coming over tonight," Julie agreed and kissed the back of Tori's hand.

"And I wish we had been best friends way back then," she said and kissed Tori's lips.

"I hate myself for telling you this, but you need to really pull out all the stops tonight," Tori said, stroking the side of Julie's face. "I mean, really do a number on him; leave him just too damned wiped out to even think, then ask him to do what he can for Andrea."

"Thank you," Julie said, sincerely.

"I'll watch the girls for you tonight," Tori said. "But this is the last time, you hear? That man is going to be mine; he just don't know it yet."

"Okay," Julie agreed, giving Tori a gentle kiss.

"Want some coffee?" Tori asked as they sat, looking into each other's eyes.

"Thought you'd never ask," Julie smiled.

"And how you want it?" Tori smiled as she got to her feet.

"Hot, black, and sweet," Julie smiled, playfully swatting Tori's backside.

"Like your women," Tori finished and the two laughed.

****

Frank smiled as Julie swung the door open. Wide. The soft light from the small lamp showed that she wore a black camisole top, black thong panties and fishnet stockings. Her four inch heels made her a few inches taller than him, but she crouched down for an intimate hug.

"I'm so glad you could come over tonight," she whispered to him, kissing him with an open mouthed kiss.

"Aw yeah?" he asked.

"Yeah, I got a little problem I really need you to help me with," she admitted, giving him another wet kiss.

"And what's that?" he asked as she led him to the couch.

""Here, let me show you," she said and sat down on the small wingback chair.

The furniture was brand new; she'd used one of her paychecks from Young Insurance to buy the sleeper sofa and matching chair.

She slowly spread her legs wide, and then put them over the arms of the chair. Frank saw that there was a towel on the cushion, and a pillow in front of the chair.

"See, I wanted to shave my pussy for you, put I really don't know how; I was really hoping you'd do it for me," Julie said and gave a sharp tug to her panties.

The Velcro gave way, exposing her blonde pubic hair to his gaze. The thick bush had been whacked severely short, leaving an itchy patch of stubble. Her heavy pussy lips hung out, wet with her excitement.

"I uh, well, I think I can," Frank stammered, his cock straining to get out of his suit trousers.

"The shaving cream and razor's right there," Julie pointed to the small table.

"And here's a bowl of hot water, and a face cloth; what else we need?" Julie asked, pointing out the stainless steel bowl of steaming water.

"I um, I think we're good to go," Frank said, voice strangled.

"Need me to..." Julie asked, pointing to his cock.

"Yeah, I think so," Frank said, unzipping his trousers.

"Come on, Baby, come face fuck me," Julie encouraged. "Give me a good face fucking; let me swallow that hot load."

She knew he would face fuck her, but also knew that he would pull out at the last minute and decorate her face with his semen. Tori had been surprised when Julie mentioned his penchant for doing this to her.

"He never does that to me," Tori had mused.

"I think, even if he won't say it, that he loves you," Julie had said, giving Tori a tight hug. "Most guys won't do that kind of shit to someone they love."

Three pumps and Frank wheezed and pulled out; squirting all over Julie's smiling face.

"Damn it, Mr. Frank!" Julie laughed as she wiped her face clean with the face cloth. "I wanted to eat that! "

"Uh huh," Frank smiled and removed his clothes.

Then he thought of something.

"Oh hey, where are the kids?" he whispered.

"Downstairs; Tori told me she'd let me have all night with you," Julie smiled.

"Well, okay then!" Frank said and knelt on the pillow in front of her.

The mentholated cream tingled and even stung her skin, but Julie kept a seductive smile on her face while Frank carefully swiped the razor through her stubble.

"Damn, that feels so, oh!" Julie said, rubbing quickly at her clitoris. "Mr. Frank, run your tongue all over it; see if it's good enough for you."

Frank did, discovered some errant patches and squirted more shaving cream into his hand and smeared it on her crotch. He then carefully, but thoroughly removed the shaving cream with the razor.

"Fuck!" Julie cried out, rubbing herself to orgasm.

"Here, you sit down," Julie urged, standing up. 

She scurried into the kitchen, fixed him a drink (having the bottle of alcohol in her house had really taken all of her willpower to avoid), then came back into the living room.

"How's it look?" she asked, modeling her smooth pussy.

"Good enough to eat," he leered.

"Well I should hope so!" she laughed. "Here, drink up."

She took the cushions off of the sofa and pulled the bed out. She had already put a latex sheet on the mattress earlier that day.

"And when you finish that..." she smiled, pulling her camisole top off. "We need to get a little dirty, okay?"

She pulled out a bottle of peanut oil and began dribbling it onto her breasts. She climbed onto the mattress and tilted the bottle, never taking her eyes from his eyes.

"Oops looks like I spilled some," she said and began to massage the oil into her skin, kneading her fleshy globes and pinching the fat nipples.

She rubbed her slightly pudgy belly, and then dribbled some more oil onto her breasts, letting the slimy fluid run down her torso.

"Oh, God, that feels..." she shuddered with a small orgasm as she massaged her pubic mound.

"Fuck!" Frank said, downing his drink in one gulp and climbing onto the bed with her.

"Here," Julie said, dribbling a good amount over her shoulder, down her back. "Rub it all over my ass. Get it all over my big fat ass."

Frank did just that, roughly, almost cruelly kneading the flesh and jamming a slimy finger directly into her rectum.

"Here," Julie moaned, dribbling more oil onto her ass. "Get them fingers nice and wet for my ass, okay?"

She knelt down and let him finger fuck her ass with two, then three fingers.

"Frank, Frank, oh yeah, oh, that's it," she moaned as she felt him scoot himself closer.

"Fuck; almost forgot to get a condom on!" he grunted.

"Right there, on the table," she grunted as he pulled his fingers out of her rectum.

He rolled the condom on; his efforts hampered by having such greasy fingers, then positioned himself behind her again.

"Please go slow," she begged. "I've never..."

He may have wanted to go slow, but his knees slipped on the greasy mattress and her rectum was already stretched wide enough to allow the head of his cock past her sphincter muscle.

"Oh, ow, oh!" she yelled as his entire length jammed into her and much of his weight toppled on top of her.

"Fuck! Damn it, I'm sorry!" he grunted and tried to pull out.

"Wait; wait, aw fuck, just wait, all right?" Julie snapped.

They knelt for several long moments until Julie relaxed her abdominal muscles.

"Now, go slow, all right?" she ordered.

He pulled out of her slowly, until just an inch of his cock was inside of her, rested, then slowly pushed back in.

Her face was sweating and she felt an incredible urge to defecate, even though she had given herself an enema thirty minutes earlier.

"Shit, shit, shit," Frank groaned and thrust himself into her again.

"Thank God," Julie thought as he slowly pulled himself out of her.

"Be right back," she said, and scampered to the small bathroom.

After she sat for a few moments with nothing coming out, Julie got to her feet. She plugged in the small space heater and exited the bathroom, closing the bathroom door behind her.

"Hope you don't mind," Frank said, showing her that he had made himself another drink.

"That's what it's there for," she agreed, and slithered back onto the slimy mattress.

She then took his limp cock into her mouth and sucked him to another climax. She kept him in her mouth, not wanting the humiliation of his sperm splashing onto her face.

"Finished that drink?" she asked and he weakly nodded. 

"Good," she said, sucked his cock until he became hard again, then opened a condom and rolled it on his cock.

"Come on," she demanded, pulling him to the small bathroom.

"Ah!" he sighed contentedly as the warmth of the bathroom greeted him.

"Ever fuck one of your girls, in the shower?" Julie asked, kicking off her heels and turning the shower taps on.

""Can't say that I have," he admitted.

"Then I think it's high time you did," she said and got into the shower.

She did not orgasm, actually finding it to be an uncomfortable way to have sex and was distracted by the knowledge that her stockings were probably ruined by the oil and water.

"Maybe if I hand wash them," she thought as Frank bellowed through his climax.

After he finished shuddering, she slowly, carefully cleaned the peanut oil from his skin, and then playfully asked him to do the same for her. Then they dried each other.

"Wait here; I'll get your clothes for you and bring them to you," Julie said as she pulled on her tattered old terry cloth robe.

When he had dressed and exited the bedroom, she had already remade the sofa and had cleared away all their toys.

"Sit down here, next to me," she asked, patting the cushion.

The robe gaped open, baring her smoothly shaved crotch to his eyes. Julie smiled as she noticed where his eyes were focused.

"I would think by now you've had enough of that," she said and kissed him wetly.

"Afraid not," he smiled back.

"Mr. Frank, I want to ask you for a really huge favor," Julie said, taking one of his hands in her small hands.

"Uh huh?" he asked, wanting a cigarette.

"Isabella's going to St. Richard's for kindergarten; I want you to get Andrea in there too," Julie said.

"Julie, it ain't as easy as that," he sputtered. "I mean, yeah, I can get her into the 'disadvantaged program' but you got to come up with at least a thousand bucks a month."

"I'll borrow the money from my mom; she'll pay for her granddaughter to go," Julie lied.

She had not told Frank that she was working, that she was making nearly three thousand dollars a month. While she did not love Frank Carrecci, did not kid herself about it, she did enjoy the sexual attention he provided twice a week.

(It was on Mondays and Wednesdays now; Denise, a bone tin red head that used to take care of his Mondays, had announced that she was getting married and moving out of his Baylor Lake apartment complex. Both Julie and Tori were more than happy to fill that void.)

"Okay, if you're sure y'all can swing a thousand a month then I'll get her in," Frank promised.

"Thank you," she said sincerely and gave him a soft, lingering kiss.

"Anything else?" he smiled when she released his lips.

"Yeah, there is one more thing," Julie admitted and flipped the robe closed, covering her bald pussy from view.

"Aw!" Frank playfully whined.

"Sorry," Julie giggled. "But I need you to pay attention."

"I was," he said.

"Listen, Mr. Frank," Julie said, stroking his flabby face with her small hand. "I know, I know I'm nothing but a fucking whore; believe me, I'm fine with that. Shit, better being a fucking whore than a stupid slut, huh? I mean, four months ago? I was a stupid slut, so whore is a big step up for me."

She brought his hand up to her lips and kissed his hand.

"But Tori?" Julie went on. "Mr. Frank, Tori's in love with you. She's not a whore; she just pretends to be one so that she can be with you."

"What?" Frank asked, unbelieving.

"I'm being serious, Mr. Frank," Julie said and again kissed his hand. "She is not like me. I fuck you, don't get me wrong, I like fucking you, but I fuck you to get something out of you. Tori fucks you to be fucking you. Tori fucks you because she wants to be close to you."

Julie got up, pulled him to his feet, and gave him a long, loving kiss.

"Think about it Mr. Frank," she whispered, gave him another kiss, then urged him out the door.

Frank staggered down to his car, sat in the dark interior, staring at Tori's apartment door, and then lighted the first cigarette in several hours. After he finished his cigarette, he started the car and drove away.

There was alcohol in the apartment. There was alcohol in the apartment and the girls were both downstairs, safe and sound, out of harm's way.

Scotch had never been her drink of choice, but Julie had drank a lot of things she didn't particularly like, simply to get the effect of alcohol.

Julie put a load of clothes into the washing machine, started it, then remembered that Tori was most likely asleep, so she stopped the machine.

She cleaned the bathroom, wiping down the shower and mopping up the few puddles on the tiled floor.

"God damn it!" she cried out, marched out of the bathroom into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of scotch.

She locked her apartment, marched down the stairs, and softly knocked on Tori's door.

"Hey, a sleepy Tori said.

"Here, get this the fuck away from me," Julie snarled, thrusting the bottle of scotch into Tori's hands.

"Want to come in and talk about it?" Tori asked gently.

"No, I just want to fucking die," Julie burst into angry sobs.

"Uh huh," Tori said, pulling Julie into the dark apartment.

She pushed Julie onto her bed, brought the bottle of scotch to the kitchen, and then came back into the living room.

"Okay, tell me all about it," she softly urged.

"I am nothing but a fucking whore," Julie sobbed, clutching hard to Tori.

"Bull shit," Tori said, secretly taking a whiff of Julie's breath to see if Julie had taken a few drinks before coming down.

She wasn't going to waste her time talking to a drunk. But there was no alcohol on Julie's breath.

"You are a mother. You are a friend. You are a good worker. You are not, I repeat not a fucking whore," Tori affirmed, kissing Julie's lips after each statement.

"I am. I am a fucking whore," Julie sobbed.

"Why do you say that?" Tori asked, laying down and pulling Julie down next to her.

As usual," Julie said, angrily. "I suck his cock, he pulls out, shoots all over my face. I pick up the face cloth; I had it there because I knew he would do that, he always does, I fucking hate that shit, but what you going to do, huh? And I look at my hand as I'm picking up the face cloth and there's my wedding ring and my engagement ring. Right there, on my hand."

"And?" Tori asked.

"Tori, I'm married. I'm wearing an engagement ring that was Mike's dad's mom's ring," Julie sobbed bitterly. "I'm wearing this ring and I'm letting some old guy fuck me."

"You doing it because you want to, or because you have to?" Tori asked quietly.




Victims And Volunteers Ch. 02



"What fucking difference does that make?" Julie asked.

"Well, if you're doing it because you..." Tori started.

"Tori, from the moment I said 'I do' I been fucking around on Mike," Julie admitted.

They lay in silence for several minutes.

"I am so confused," Tori finally admitted. "If you been fucking around on him from Day One, why all of a sudden is it bothering you?" 

"I don't know," Julie admitted.

"God, you are so fucking blonde, I swear," Tori said.

"Oh I know you didn't just..." Julie protested.

""You know what? Go to sleep," Tori said. "Just shut up and go to sleep."

****

"Well, no, no I've never been to La Scalia's," Tori said.

Julie looked up from the egg salad she was making for everyone's lunch.

"No, no, that sounds great; yeah, I'd love to," Tori said.

She mumbled something that Julie couldn't here, then flipped her cell phone closed.

"Tomorrow night I need you to watch Isabella for me," she demanded, marching past the kitchen to the bedroom.

Julie heard Tori fumbling in the closet for a moment.

The toaster dinged and two slices of whole wheat toast popped up.

"How's this look? For La Scalia's?" Tori popped into the kitchen, holding a lime green dress against herself.

"God, Tori, get me some sunglasses, huh?" Julie shrugged, grimacing at the bright color of the dress.

"Okay, I need you to watch Isabella for a bit; I need to go to Babbage's," Tori said, looking at the lime green dress, and then disappearing into the bedroom again.

"Nuh uh, no monkeys running in the house," Julie called out as a giggling Kasie ran past the kitchen, carrying her favorite pink ball.

Julie quickly finished preparing lunch, cut the crust off the bread for the girls, and called everyone for lunch.

"God is good, God is great, thank Him for this food on our plate," Andrea said the grace and they ate.

"So, what color you think I ought to look for, since you don't like my green?" Tori said as they did the dishes together."

Black. After all..." Julie said, resting her head against Tori's shoulder.

"Black is beautiful," Tori smiled.

And real hose; I know he likes fishnet but you're going to be out. In public," Julie advised.

****



The dress had been a perfect 'little black dress' that came down to just above the knee. The hose was a smoky black, with a line up the back, her pumps were black patent leather, with a four inch heel, and matched the black clutch perfectly.

Because she had a larger bed for the girls, and Isabella had more toys, especially Barbie dolls for them to play with, Julie was watching the three girls in Tori's apartment.

As a precaution, Tori had hidden all the alcohol in the apartment.

"Unnng!" Kasie demanded, slapping at Tori's stereo.

"Okay, let's see, oh! I haven't heard this in like forever!" Julie said, pulling out the soundtrack to 'Saturday Night Fever.'

She really couldn't dance, but if Kasie noticed that her mother was terrible at it, she didn't let on. She laughed as her mother tried to dance, laughed that she and her mother were dancing.

"You really like dancing, huh?" Julie smiled and kissed the girl.

"Lub oo you," Kasie declared.

"Love you too, you little Monkey," Julie laughed.

****

Frank was miserable. He was sure that all the patrons in the upscale restaurant were looking at him, laughing at the old fool, trying to pretend to be some kind of stud, with the gorgeous young woman. The staff was polite, almost to the point of fawning, but he could swear he detected a smirk on the wine steward's face as he poured the wine for his approval.

And Tori did look absolutely beautiful. Her make up was flawless. Her hair had been curled; she admitted that she and Julie had spent nearly an hour with a hot curling iron, getting it just right. Her dress was elegant, seductive. She displayed poise and grace, impeccable table manners.

And she kept smiling at him. Kept smiling at him.

He was close to throwing his napkin on the table and declaring that this had been a huge mistake when their dinner was served.

"Oh, Honey, you have to try this!" she exclaimed, holding out a fork of her veal to him.

He accepted the fork and agreed, it was good.

"May I?" she asked, pointing to his shrimp.

"Oh, of course," he said and scooped up a shrimp and some of the sauce and held it out for her.

Mmm, that is good," she agreed. "I'll have to get that next time we're here."

"And for dessert..." the waiter said as the empty plates were cleared away.

"Is that a live band I hear?" Tori interrupted.

"Ah, yes ma'am; our lounge does have a live band and there is a dance floor," the waiter smiled and pointed toward the lounge entrance.

"Honey, can you dance?" Tori asked, eyes blazing with excitement.

"Not worth a hoot," Frank admitted.

Seeing some of the light fade in her smile, he cleared his throat.

"But I'm willing to try," he agreed.

Her smile brightened even more.

"Very good," the waiter said, putting the check on the table. "Whenever you're ready sir."

"Wait a minute, you were telling me about the dessert," Frank pointed out.

"You can have dessert in the lounge, sir," the waiter smiled. "But if your date wants to dance, I'd take her dancing."

Frank wasn't lying; he couldn't dance worth a hoot. But Tori could and she was enjoying teaching him. The lounge did allow smoking; Frank was grateful for that. 

Two young African-American males did come up and ask her to dance while Frank was taking a smoke break, rudely ignoring Frank. Both times, Tori clutched possessively onto his arm and flatly refused their advances.

"Oh, Honey, that was so much fun! Did you like that? I could do that every night!" Tori whooped as they waited for the valet to retrieve his car.

"Um, when did I become 'Honey?'?" Frank asked, slipping the valet three rumpled dollar bills.

"The moment you asked me out on a date," she laughed and slid into her seat, giving the valet a good look at her legs.

She was again his guest at his house. They made love twice, and then he made her get dressed and drove her home.

****

Julie woke up when Tori slipped into bed, freshly showered, scrubbed clean of Frank's lingering cigarette smell.

"Had fun?" Julie mumbled.

"You little white bitch," Tori smiled. "You told him, didn't you?"

"Somebody had to and don't you ever call me 'bitch' again," Julie yawned.

"Fuck you; I'll call you whatever I want to," Tori smiled and kissed her on the lips.

"Uh huh," Julie returned the kiss, and then rolled over. "Fuck, it's late; go to sleep."

She waited for a long moment, and then added, "Bitch."

"What?" Tori laughed, sliding over to lie next to Julie.

"You heard me," Julie laughed.

"Aw you are so dead," Tori said and moved to strangle Julie.

"Julie, you ain't got no..." Tori said, patting Julie's bare shoulder.

"Monkey peed on me," Julie laughed. Don't worry, I got on panties."

To verify Julie's claim, Tori reached down and felt Julie's large briefs.

"Fuck, granny panties, huh?" Tori laughed.

"Fuck, they're comfortable," Julie protested. "Wasn't exactly planning on getting molested tonight, you know?"

"Molested?" Tori laughed.

"What you call it; rubbing all over me when I'm trying to sleep, huh?" Julie laughed too.

"I love you," Tori declared.

"Love you too," Julie said.

Within moments, both women were sound asleep.

Chapter 8

Julie parked in from of Sylvia Chamblee's house. She sat in the car for a long moment, silently praying, took a deep breath and got out of the car.

Thursday was Andrea's fifth birthday; they were having a party for her on Saturday. It was going to be a 'Barbie' party; Julie had sent out all five invitations; one each to Tori and Isabella, one to her mother, one to Mr. Frank, and one to Mike's mother.

Tori and Isabella had said that they would be there. Mr. Frank said he was coming and even asked if he could bring his granddaughter.

"Oh, and my son and his wife; I'm pretty sure they won't let me take Francesca out of their sight for more than five seconds," he had smiled.

"Absolutely," Julie smiled. "Love to have them."

Her mother had grudgingly agreed to come; Andrea was, after all, her granddaughter. Julie's declaration that there would be no alcohol served at the party was met with a snort of disbelief from Marnie.

Julie approached the front door, tried the doorbell, and then remembered that it did not work, or at least it had not worked the last time she had been a guest in the Chamblee home.

She knocked firmly on the door. A moment later, Sylvia yanked the door open and glared at Julie.

"And just what do you want?" Sylvia hissed, venom practically dripping from her lips.

"Hi Miss Sylvia," Julie said, ignoring the venomous greeting.

"I said..." Sylvia spat.

"Yes ma'am, I heard you and I'm fixing to tell you what I want," Julie politely said.

She kept her voice polite, kept her voice low, non-confrontational.

"Miss Sylvia, I sent you an invitation to Andrea's birthday party; she's going to be five and I never did hear back from you," Julie said.

"Didn't hear back from me 'cause I ain't planning on going," Sylvia spat hatefully.

"Miss Sylvia," Julie said firmly. "I know I've been a horrible person to you, God, I've been a total bitch to you and the horrible things I did to your son; I'll never be able to make up for any of that. I understand that, believe me, I do."

"Oh do you?" Sylvia screeched. "Do you really?"

"Well, no, not really," Julie admitted. "I really don't understand how or why I did all those things to poor Mike; God he was such a sweet... And I just shit all over him; if there was some way I could make it up to him..."

Julie felt the sting of tears begin.

"But, Miss Sylvia, there's a little girl; she didn't do anything. She's the real victim here," Julie said. "She's just a little girl; she doesn't know anything about D.N.A. or any of that stuff. She doesn't know about alcoholism, or drug addiction or any of that. All she knows is she hasn't seen her Grammy in a long time."

"Oh, you're good," Sylvia sneered. "You're real good. Turning on the waterworks like that."

"I am being serious," Julie said, tears beginning to trickle down her face. "You hate me? Fine, hate me. Take it out on me. Spit on me, hit me. If it'll make you feel better, do it; get it over with, get it all out of your system. But don't take it out on my daughter."

"Yeah?" Sylvia sneered. "I can spit on you?"

Julie closed her eyes and leaned her face forward, offering the woman a clear target.

"I'll think about it," the woman grumbled and slammed the door shut.

Julie wiped her face with the back of her hand and walked to her car.

"Well, THAT went well," Julie thought to herself as she started the car.

She drove down to the grocery store, picked up the Barbie cake then drove it to her mother's house.

Marnie did not even try to disguise her intentions. She sniffed at Julie, trying to see if she could smell any alcohol on her daughter.

"Clean and sober, Mother," Julie smiled tightly. "Thanks for letting me hide the cake here.

"Uh huh," Marnie said.

"Couldn't hide it at Tori's, then Isabella would see it and tell Andrea all about it," Julie said and finished rearranging the contents of the refrigerator.

"Uh huh," Marnie said.

"Okay, see you at about eleven, all right?" Julie said and gave her unresponsive mother a hug and a kiss on the lips.

****

The day was a hot, humid day, but Mr. Frank had put up a tarp to shield them from the sun, and put out two large fans that blew warm air on the few guests.

And who's ready for hot dogs?" Julie smiled.

"Me, me, me," Andrea and Isabella demanded.

"Okay, Isabella, you have to sit here, because you're my best friend," Andrea declared, pointing to the bench next to her.

Julie cut up a hot dog and put the plate in front of Kasie, then began to fix Andrea's hot dog.

""Need me to feed her?" Marnie asked.

"She can feed herself," Julie smiled. "Monkeys can do all sorts of things."

"Am I too late for a birthday party?" Sylvia asked, entering the fenced in yard.

"Grammy!" Andrea called out.

"Thank you so much for coming," Julie smiled at the woman.

"Uh huh," Sylvia said flatly.

"Grammy, we're having hot dogs; my mommy will get you one, okay?" Andrea cheerfully called out.

"Hold on, just one cotton picking stinking minute," Julie said in mock seriousness. "Did we say Grace?"

"Amen," Kasie loudly declared and resumed sticking hot dog pieces into her mouth.

"Did she just say...?" Marnie asked.

"She's saying all kind of things now," Julie laughed as everyone decided that Kasie's 'Amen' was a good enough Grace.

"I heard there's a little girl here that just turned five years old! Is that right?" Mike loudly asked as he entered the back yard.

"Daddy!" Andrea screamed and jumped down from her chair.

"Oh my God!" Julie whispered, mouth open in shock.

"Hi Sweetheart!" Mike said as he scooped his daughter up and hugged her tightly. "Oh my goodness! Look at you! Oh, you are getting so big!"

"Damn; that's him?" Tori whispered to Julie.

"Oh my God!" Julie whispered.

"And you let that go?" Tori asked. "You are one crazy ass white girl."

Julie looked at her best friend.

"No," she shook her head slowly. "I threw that away. You right; I am one crazy ass white girl."

In the six months since she'd last seen him, he had grown more handsome. His dark hair was cut short, he had shaved off his mustache, and he had gotten a deep tan. His arms, shoulders and chest were even more muscular, as were his deeply tanned legs.

"Wait right here," Mike smiled as he put Andrea down. "I'll be right back."

Andrea bounced up and down, excited as she waited for her father to return.

"I heard you like Barbie; is that right?" Mike asked as he pushed a Barbie bicycle into the yard.

Aahh!" Andrea gasped as she looked at the magnificent bicycle.

"See, it's got training wheels; those pop right off when you've learned how to ride without them," Mike squatted down and showed the girl.

"Hi," Julie quietly said as Andrea examined the bicycle from all angles.

"Hey," he smiled at her, standing up.

"I um, I," Julie stammered, unsure of what to say or do.

She had fantasized about seeing him again; what she would say and what she would do and how he would react. But he was standing right in front of him, smiling easily and her mind was blank.

Finally, she just grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the tarp shelter.

"Come on, I want you to meet, Tori? This is Mike. Mike's my..." she stammered, and then looked up at him for verification.

"Hi Mike Chamblee," Mike said, reaching out a large hand.

"Hi, Tori Underhill, Julie's downstairs neighbor," Tori smiled.

"And my best friend," Julie cut in. "And that little girl that's stuffing her face is Isabella, Tori's daughter, and Andrea's best friend."

She pointed to Frank and Anthony as they manned the grill.

"And that's..." Julie said.

"Uncle Frank and my cousin Ant," Mike smiled as he waved to the two men.

"Your..." Julie asked, mouth open in shock.

"Yeah, I'd ask if you remembered them from our wedding, but I'm sure you don't," Mike said, sneering slightly.

"Yeah, well I uh..." Julie stammered again.

"Uncle Frank's my mom's brother. So, where's the beer?" Mike asked as he looked around for an ice chest.

"It's a children's' party; there's punch, or punch to drink; what you want?" Julie asked.

"Punch, I guess," Mike agreed.

"Want a hot dog?" Julie asked.

"Sure, with..." Mike said.

"Pickle relish and ketchup," Julie smiled.

"Yeah, you remembered that, huh?" Mike asked.

****

Both Andrea and Kasie were worn out by seven o'clock; Mike had stayed and played with both girls, running around after them, catching them, letting them chase him. 

He bathed them both, read to them, then kissed them both good night. Kasie was already sounding asleep and Andrea stirred slightly when her father's lips pressed against her forehead.

"This has been the best birthday ever," she declared.

Julie wrung her hands indecisively as he entered the living room.

"You have to, um, you got, can we talk for a minute?" she stammered.

Mike was slightly amused; Julie of old would have been screaming at him from the minute he entered the back yard until she either passed out in a drunken slumber, or until he left, whichever came first. Julie of old wouldn't ask if they could talk; she would have demanded that they talk. Her doing the talking, him doing the listening.

She looked like the Julie of old, nearly the same weight she had been right before her belly began to show with Andrea, her hair was long, her skin was lightly tanned. She was simply beautiful.

Unlike the Julie of old, though, was the softness. Gone were the hard lines, the hard scowl, and the anger that had sharpened her features.

She had changed out of her earlier outfit of tank top, cargo shorts, and canvas sneakers. Right now, she wore a half shirt that left her belly bare and a pair of nylon running shorts. Her feet were bare. She had changed out of her outfit while he read to Andrea and Kasie; had toyed very seriously with the idea of dressing in her black camisole top and Velcro thong. Her nerves, however, abandoned her at the last moment and she dressed comfortably instead.

"You want to, um, here, um, have a seat, you want something to drink? Julie stammered, guiding him to the sofa. "I got, well, there's a bunch of punch left over; I told Mom not to buy a bunch of that stuff, we really didn't need all of that. Or we got Seven Up. Oh, you still like coffee? I can make you a cup of; I got one of those..."

"Coffee would be great," Mike smiled, fighting the urge to laugh at her nervousness.

He had been extremely nervous coming to the birthday party.

He had, at times recalled that cold day when he walked away from his wife and her two daughters with amusement, and with disgust. If he had a few beers in him, he could almost laugh at the thought of her reaction when she finally figured out that he was gone. But, when he was stone cold sober, he did not laugh. He was disgusted with himself for inflicting such cruelties on her and two defenseless children.

He had imagined walking into the backyard and being greeted by a screaming banshee, a blood thirsty demon.

He had even imagined being greeted by 'the new man in her life,' whoever that unlucky bastard might be and having to get into a brawl. Of course, a brawl at a children's' party would be a huge embarrassment, but Julie's new man would invariably be a drunk, like Julie, so a fight would be the norm.

He realized that Julie was talking, rambling as she fussed about in the kitchen.

"Yeah, it only takes a couple of minutes; Tori's got one and I just had to have one, can't keep running downstairs every time I want a cup of coffee. Still take it with a little cream?" Julie chattered.

The soft, happy, sober Julie had been a total shock, even after his mother's warning.

Kasie had been a real shock too. Andrea was getting so big, but that was too being expected; she had been a big baby. But Kasie, smiling, and talking, and when Julie had gotten her pink ball, running around the yard laughing.

Kasie wasn't quite potty trained yet, but when she needed her diaper changed, she went and told her mother. 

And dancing. Tori had pulled out a boom box and put on K.C. and the Sunshine Band and Kasie had shown him how she loved to dance.

"And you look, she keeps perfect time with the beat," Tori had laughed and clapped as Kasie stomped, wiggled, clapped to the music.

"Here you go; hope I got it right," Julie said, handing him a mug.

She put a coaster down on the table next to him and then sat on his left.




Victims And Volunteers Ch. 02



"Mm, good coffee," Mike finally said.

"Fuck!" Julie said, getting to her feet.

"What? What's wrong?" Mike asked, putting his mug on the coaster.

"This isn't how it's supposed to go!" Julie snapped.

Even as she snapped in anger, this still was not the Julie of old. She wasn't lashing out at him. She was frustrated, but she wasn't taking it out on him.

"How's it supposed to go?" Mike asked.

"God damn it, Mike!" Julie said, tears springing to her eyes.

She looked at him.

"Damn it! I, I mean, for like the last six months! I'm supposed to tear my clothes off! And you're supposed to take one look at me and grab me and fuck my brains out! I mean, shit! I lost a whole bunch of weight and everything," Julie said, frustrated.

"You do look good," Mike agreed.

"And then, afterward, God Mike! You're supposed to tell me you're sorry you ran out on us but it's all right because I forgive you," Julie said, tears forming in her eyes and spilling over.

"I, Julie, I am sorry I ran..." Mike admitted, getting to his feet.

"You didn't run out!" she snapped and slapped him on his chest as hard as she could. "I drove you away! You didn't do this to me; I did!""

God damn it!" she screamed, frustrated.

"Shh!" Mike hissed harshly. "There are two girls sleeping!"

"Fuck! I love you! God, I love you so much!" Julie sobbed. "I been dreaming and dreaming of how I was going to get you back and ..."

"You love me?" Mike asked, anger creeping into his voice. "Since when?"

"Since I grew up," she snapped back.

"It's a little too..." he said.

"It's a little too little a little too late," she sobbed. "I know, I know."

Mike drained his coffee and walked to the door.

"I'll give you whatever you want," she said quietly.

"What?" he asked.

"You want a divorce? Fine, get one. I won't fight it," she said weakly and flopped down on the couch.

"You want a divorce?" he challenged.

"No," she said softly, shaking her head. "But, if you do, I won't fight it. I won't bother you for alimony or child support."

"I'll get back to you on that," he said.

"I mean, you want your name taken off their birth certificates; you got that D.N.A. test thing done," Julie listlessly continued.

"I said 'I'll get back to you on that,'" Mike said and opened the door.

"I guess its useless begging you to stay, huh?" Julie asked, looking away from him.

"Stay and do what? Argue some more?" Mike asked harshly.

"No. I don't want to argue with you," she sobbed, swiping her hand across her eyes. "I was kind of hoping we could; oh fuck, who am I kidding?"

She got to her feet and walked toward the bathroom.

"I was hoping we'd make love and you'd be so 'wow, that was great!' and never ever be able to leave me ever again, but I'm just being my old manipulating self all over again and just go, all right, just fucking go," she sobbed out and slammed the bathroom door shut.

She urinated, flushed, then dropped shorts and top to the floor and pulled on her 'granny' panties and soft camisole top. She brushed her teeth, quickly cleaned the make up off her face, and then left the bathroom.

It wasn't even seven thirty, so the sun was still quite bright as she readied her bed. Sunlight or not; she was tired.

Just as she flung back her blanket and prepared to slide into bed, the telephone rang. She looked and did not recognize the telephone number, but shrugged and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" she asked.

"I hate how we finished that," Mike's voice said.

"I'm not all that thrilled about it either," she admitted.

"I uh, I'd kind of like for us to sit down and..." he said.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"I'm still in the parking lot," he said.

"Come on up," she said. "Want some more coffee?"

"No, not really," he said.

She debated on whether or not she should run and change her clothes and decided against it.

A moment later, a soft knock sounded. She checked the peephole and found it dark. She smiled; that was an old trick of his; putting his thumb over the peephole.

"Hey," she said, flinging the door open.

"Oh, damn, I'm sorry; you were already in bed?" he said.

"Yeah," she smiled, and pulled him toward the bed. "Perfect timing."

****

"Look, just because we..." Mike said as Julie sank her mouth down his cock.

"Shh," she said, pulling his cock out of her mouth with a 'pop.' "I know, but God damn it, I'm tired of my dildo, all right?"

"Fine," he smiled and then moaned as she licked his cock from base to tip, then licked back down to the base again.

She bathed his balls with her tongue, sucked each one into her mouth, and then swiped her tongue back up to the tip of his cock. She tried to sharpen her tongue to a point and tried to force the point into his piss hole.

"Damn!" he moaned again as she gripped his cock and began to jack him into her mouth.

"Now," she whispered. "You want to come in my mouth? Or, you want to shoot it all over my face? Huh? You want to squirt all that nasty stuff all over me? Make me look like a big old slut? That what you want, huh?"

"Mouth," Mike groaned, dangerously close. "Let me shoot it in your mouth."

The few times Julie had ever put her mouth on his cock, she had never brought him to completion, had never let him shoot in her mouth. Usually, she would suck him for two or three head bobs, and then demand that he lick her pussy to orgasm.

"Oh, good," Julie said and redoubled her efforts to get his semen.

He didn't last long and she swallowed all he had to offer.

"Now," she whispered, stroking his cock. "You want my pussy? Or how about my ass? Huh? You always wanted to do my ass, remember? Want to do my ass, Mike?"

"Yeah," he groaned.

"Okay," she smiled and slid open a drawer on her end table.

She handed him a tube of lubricant.

"Why don't you..." she said and twisted around so that her ass was facing him.

He squeezed out a generous dollop onto his finger then brought it to her puckered anus.

"Ooh!" she softly moaned as he ran the tip of his finger around her rosebud.

He slowly pushed his finger in and she cooed appreciatively.

"Get a little more up there," she encouraged.

When he was fucking three fingers in and out of her rectum, she took the tube of lubricant and began to grease up his throbbing cock. She squealed when he suddenly tensed and ejaculated all over her hand, his belly and thighs.

"Damn! I'm sorry!" he gasped.

"About what?" she laughed.

"About, about," he stammered.

"Oh, I don't think you're done," she smiled over her shoulder at him and waggled his cock in her hand. "See? He's still happy to see me."

He got to his knees and pressed the head of his cock to her anus.

"Slow, Baby, go slow," Julie warned as he pushed the tip of his cock in.

****

"Hey, um, just because we..." Mike started to say again.

"I know," Julie said, lifelessly. "Doesn't change anything. I'm still just a stupid slut; why the fuck would you want to be around me, huh?"

"I never said..." Mike protested.

"Mike, come on; I know what I am. Your uncle Frank said it best; I'm just a whore," Julie said and rolled away from him. 

"Look I..." Mike tried to say.

"Listen, I told you, whatever you want is fine with me, okay?" Julie said.

"Hey," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"You want a divorce, fine, just get me the papers and I'll sign them," Julie said, voice flat.

"Look, I'm not sure..." Mike said.

"Want to say that the girls aren't yours? Fine," Julie said, pushing his hand off of her shoulder. "It'll be hard on them, I'm sure, but I'll tell them the truth when their old enough to understand. Mom was a stupid, self-centered slut and drove your Daddy away."

"I really wish you'd stop calling yourself..." Mike said.

"Why?" Julie said. "It's the truth. I'm just a whore, I'm nothing but a stupid cunt; God! I'm just a fucking hole to throw a load of come into."

"Listen, I'll um, I'll call you, okay?" Mike said, climbing out of the bed.

"Fine. Whatever," Julie said.

Mike dressed.

"Mike?" he heard her ask, just as he opened the door.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Thank you," Julie said. "You have no idea, how good it felt to feel you inside of me. To have your arms around me. Even if it was just... It felt really, thank you."

"Thank you too," he said. "It felt great; to finally make love with the girl I've been in love with forever."

"Listen, even though you left your number; it popped up on my Caller ID, listen, don't worry," Julie said, not raising her head off of her pillow. "I'm not going to start calling you."

He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.

"But if you want to, you call," Julie said, barely a whisper. 

****

Mike drove to his mother's house.

He did not turn on the radio; normally, when he was alone, he couldn't stand the silence and had to have the radio on, blaring his heavy metal music. The music fueled his anger, and drowned out his thoughts.

But he did not turn on his stereo.

His mother pointedly sniffed the air when he walked in.

"Smells like you've been in a whore house," she shrilled.

"And you know how a whore house smells?" he asked, not in the mood for her shrill accusations, her shrill denouncements of Julie, or of her children.

"Well, Julie looked good today, didn't she?" Sylvia continued, sneering hatefully. "I wonder how long after we left she got falling down drunk."

Mike went to his room, got out his duffel bags and began packing for a two week shift.

"Thought you didn't leave until Tuesday," Sylvia asked.

"Different rig," Mike lied.

"Wish you'd get out of that business; it's so dangerous," Sylvia said.

"Hey, Mom, pays the bills, huh?" Mike snapped.

"Yeah but..." Sylvia whined.

"And God knows you're not going to get off your fat ass and go get a job," Mike muttered as he zipped the first bag shut.

(Sylvia claimed to be disabled; she said she suffered from horrendous migraines. No doctor, however, would declare her disabled, no doctor would sign any waivers for her, so she could collect no benefits.)

He packed his toiletries into the second bag, gave his mother a kiss, and left the house.

Eagan Industries was more than happy to send Mike to a land rig just outside of Odessa, Texas. Mike was more than happy to accept a three week gig.

Work kept his mind off of his wife and daughters. He didn't wear his wedding ring; very few wore any metal jewelry on an oil rig. But he had noticed that she still wore her wedding and engagement rings.

Work kept his mind off of them; he had successfully shoved them out of his thoughts for nearly six months, only thinking of them when he was not busy welding.

When he wasn't working, he did think of them. He was glad he had gone to Andrea's birthday party, glad he had spent the ninety three dollars on the little bicycle for her. The look of wonder on her little face was still imprinted in his mind's eye.

Kasie, laughing, running, playing. When he'd left six months earlier, she was very nearly a vegetable, unable to feed herself, barely able to function.

And Julie. The last time he'd seen her, in the lobby of the DeGarde Inn, she'd been a fat, bloated, scowling, bitter woman.

The woman he'd seen at Andrea's party had been just as beautiful as the eighteen year old Prom Queen. But her personality had been immensely more mature than the eighteen year old Prom Queen.

"Ready to go home and wash your socks?" Dan, a grizzled roughneck asked, interrupting Mike's thoughts.

"Huh?" Mike asked, looking up from the country fried steak he was shoveling in his mouth.

"Shoving off tomorrow, right? That little pussy from Pilot says you're married to one hot little momma," Don said, chewing with his mouth open.

"Yeah, Julie," Mike agreed.

"Got any naked pictures of her?" Don asked.

"Nope," Mike admitted.

"Want to buy some?" Don asked and cackled merrily with laughter.

"What? When I can get them off the Internet for free?" Mike shook his head.

Don's comment had bothered Mike; he had no idea how many men had enjoyed Julie's charms, if there were any pictures or videos of his wife floating around. But he knew Don; knew the type of crowd that worked the oil field. The moment they knew something bothered a person, they'd ride that person and ride that person until he had no choice but either strike out violently (thus losing their job and any chance of getting on another rig) or quit (again, ruining their chances of getting on another rig). So, he shot back with a jibe of his own.

****

Julie entered the data, made sure all entries were correct, then saved it and uploaded the file, then searched for and opened another file.

Elizabeth had told her, "The more work you do, the more money you make. It's as simple as that."

So Julie did as much as she possibly could. Having been an agent-in-training, even if it had been only a few weeks, helped her understand what information went whereon the various forms that Young Insurance used, so she was able to process them a little quicker than an untrained Data Entry clerk would.

Just as she completed another file, she heard Andrea and Isabella stirring and knew that Kasie would be soon to follow, so she saved the file, uploaded it, and shut everything down.

"Miss Julie?" Isabella asked, padding into the living room.

"Yes?" Julie smiled.

"Andrea says she doesn't want oatmeal; she wants pancakes," Isabella declared.

"And why did Andrea send you to tell me that?" Julie smiled, spotting Andrea peeking into the living room.

"I don't know," Isabella lied unconvincingly.

"Well, tell Andrea that today is her lucky day; we're having corn meal pancakes for breakfast. The oatmeal's for lunch, okay?" Julie said and got to her feet.

She laughed as she heard Andrea say "Awe!"

There was a knock at the door.

"Oh, I that's my mommy," Isabella said and moved to open the door.

"Isabella!" Julie said harshly. "You don't know that that's your mommy!"

Julie peered through the peephole and stepped back, mouth open in surprise.

"Nope, it's not your mommy," she said. 

Mike had almost put his thumb over the peephole, then thought, "God, Mike, grow up. That shit wasn't cute when you were a kid, still not cute today." 

"Hey!" Julie said, swinging the door open. "What are you doing here?"

"Got a week off to wash my socks," Mike said, entering the apartment.

"Daddy!" Andrea called out.

"Hey Sweetheart!" Mike smiled, picking his daughter up for a fierce hug.

"Oh, okay, I've got a load of whites running right now, but as soon as they're finished," Julie said.

"Its oil field code for sex," Mike whispered in her ear.

"Oh!" Julie said then smiled widely. "So, you planning on staying long?"

"Well, got a lot of socks," Mike agreed and put Andrea down.

"We're having corn meal pancakes; you want some, Daddy?" Andrea bubbled excitedly.

"Sure!" Mike agreed.

"Give me a hand?" Julie asked, closing the door.

When Tori did come for Isabella, she did try to persuade Andrea and Kasie to come with her, so that Julie and Mike could have some privacy but both girls were adamant; they wanted to be with their daddy. So, Mike spent the day with the girls. 

The only work Julie was able to get done that day was when Mike took the girls to McDonald's for lunch, and to see his mother.

****

Again, he bathed his two girls, helped them with their prayers, read two fairy tales to them, then kissed them both good-night. He found Julie, sitting on the couch, waiting for him.

"Last time I was here," Mike said, sitting down on the sofa, next to Julie. "You kept saying 'if you want a divorce...'"

"I'll give it to you. I mean, if that's what you really want," Julie agreed.

"But you never did say what YOU want," Mike said, lightly stroking her face with a finger.

Julie looked at him for a long moment, and then kissed him softly.

"I, what I want?" she asked.

"Yeah, Julie, what do you want?" Mike asked.

"I guess I want a divorce," Julie said.

"Wait, what?" Mike asked, surprised.

"Mike, our whole marriage was terrible," Julie said. "God, why you would even want to go back to that; I mean, really."

"But, but..." Mike stuttered.

"Mike, let's just end it," Julie said, clasping his hands in hers. "End that horrible marriage, then we can get married again, but this time for real."

"Huh?" Mike said, still reeling from her declaration that she wanted a divorce.

"Get married, for real this time," Julie said, getting excited by the idea. "And since I won't be all passed out drunk, I'll remember what we did on our wedding night."

"So, that's what you want, huh?" Mike said, starting to smile. "Want us to go ahead with all the expense of getting a divorce, just so we can get married again?"

Julie stood up and started to shimmy out of her clothes.

"What are you doing?" Mike asked.

"Making it worth your while," she smiled.

"You can wash your socks just about anywhere," she said, slowly turning to face away from him.

"But," she said, sliding her thong down her legs.

She peered at him over her shoulder.

"I got the best washing machine around, you hear?" she said and turned back around and showed him that her shaved pussy was drooling her excitement.

"Julie Chamblee, will you divorce me?" Mike asked, pulling his tee shirt over his head.

"I thought you'd never ask," Julie knelt and began to untie his work boots.

The End.

**

Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure. I post them here for your enjoyment.

Thank you for reading it.

And, yes, I know there are one or two of you out there screaming at your computer screens that Mike is a pussy, a wimp for taking the cheating bitch back. There are one or two of you screaming that he should just burn the bitch.

Well, he did. He did burn the bitch. The bitch has been thoroughly consumed by the flames of what he did to her in the first installment of this story. 

What emerged from the ashes of the old Julie is a girl that Mike has loved for years, and the new Julie loves him too.

So, yeah, he could have burned her, divorced her, divorced the two daughters, left her to survive as a whore. Oooorrrr....he could let the past be the past and have a beautiful and sexy wife that loves him.

(Anthony Carrecci and Frank Carrecci are characters from the 'Flowers In The Heart' series and '2cd Choice.' Lucy is a character from '2cd Choice.'

Julie Vogel is a character from the 'Yearbook 2005' series. Marnie Vogel is a character from the 'Yearbook 2005' series and 'Pudgy.' Mike Chamblee is a character from the 'Yearbook 2005' and Inferno' series. Jack Vogel is a character from the 'Yearbook 2005' series and '2cd Choice.'

Marco Juarez is a character from '2cd Choice.'

Kaitlin Monroe is a character from the 'Yearbook 2005' and 'The Broussard Sisters' series.)

Again, thank you for reading my stories.



Victims And Volunteers



"Her name's Kasie and she's retarded," Andrea chirped for the friendly woman.

"Aw, bless her heart!" the woman said. "But you sure are a pretty girl, yes you are!"

Julie listened as a recording announced that Mike's phone number was disconnected. She paused for a moment, and then dialed her own cell phone number. The same recording came on. She then dialed her mother's phone number.

"Mom?" she said, after her mother answered.

"What?" her mother spat into the phone. "I swear to God; if I had known it was you..."

"Mom, Mike left us stuck here; we're at the DeGarde Inn," Julie cut into her mother's tirade.

"And you can rot there for all I care," her mother snapped, slamming the phone down.

"Just one more; I promise," Julie said to the woman.

"Can they have suckers?" the woman asked, showing Julie the cellophane wrapped treats.

"Only if I can have a green one," Julie actually smiled.

"Yeah, green's my favorite too," the woman smiled and handed Andrea a purple one.

Kasie just clutched her orange sucker, not making any move to put the candy in her mouth.

"Here, sweetheart, you do like this," the woman said, sticking a green sucker into her own mouth.

"Yeah, Kasie, do like this," Andrea encouraged.

Kasie did not respond, just clutched the sucker in her small fist.

"Jack? Hey, it's me, Julie, Listen..." Julie said when her brother answered his cell phone.

"Thank you so much," Julie said to the woman after Jack agreed to come get her. "It all right if we wait here? My brother says he'll be here as soon as he gets off shift at eight."

"Sure Sweetheart. Y'all want some coffee? We got that big old urn right there," the woman said, pointing to the large metal coffee dispenser. "Just help yourself; probably out of sugar, but there's plenty of that Equal stuff; after a while can't tell the difference really."

"Thank you," Julie said.

"Sure. I just pour it out at the end of my shift anyway; why let it go to waste? And you look like you could use you some coffee," the woman said, and then turned on a megawatt smile for a guest that entered the lobby.

****

Jack complained non-stop about having to take time out of his day to come and taxi Julie and her two 'rug rats' around.

"You try calling Mike?" Jack asked.

"Yes Jack, I tried Jack; his phone's been disconnected Jack, I'm so sorry Jack that I'm such a bother to you Jack," Julie spat out.

She had a severe headache, was suffering from alcohol withdrawal, was hungry, and Kasie had never ceased struggling.

Andrea, as usual, was a well behaved child, but she was still a child, and had all the questions of a child, all the energy of a child, and got bored very easily. 

The young woman behind the front desk had been very sweet, very helpful and had taken Andrea off of Julie's hands the two times Julie had to change Kasie's diaper.

Changing Kasie's diaper as soon as possible was paramount; Kasie would, if left alone long enough would dig into her diaper and play with her own feces.

"Let you out right here, give me that shitty attitude," Jack grumbled.

"Sign on the side of the car says 'Protect and Serve,' or is that just for people you aren't related to?" Julie grumbled back.

The house was dark; there was no sign of Mike or his car. 

Julie herded Andrea into the house, put Kasie down, and started to fix the children their dinner. The sight of the two car seats leaning against the kitchen wall puzzled her.

She noticed, with some satisfaction, that Kasie no longer clutched the sticky sucker; it was probably stuck to Jack's upholstery.

Andrea fed herself and Kasie ate a few bites before refusing to open her mouth for any more food.

By the time their dinner was finished, Julie was too exhausted, so put both children into their beds without their baths.

She then searched through the pantry, kitchen cupboards, and refrigerator and discovered that there was no trace of alcohol anywhere. There were three cans of non-alcoholic beer in the refrigerator but Julie knew that drinking those would be an exercise in futility. The taste of the beer was nasty enough, but the taste would fuel a desire for more, for real alcohol.

She looked at the clock; it was most likely after nine thirty; Mike should be coming home soon. She assumed that he had dropped the kids off with her and returned to his job at the Bargain Bin.

"Would have been nice if you'd brought us home first, dick face," she hissed under her breath as she stomped to the bedroom they shared.

Even though she stunk from hours on a series of Greyhound buses, she simply lies down and fell asleep.

****

It was Andrea's shrieks that woke her up the next morning. Julie staggered into the small bedroom the two girls shared, yelled at Andrea for waking her up, noticed that Kasie was playing with her soiled diaper (the reason for Andrea's shrieks) and slapped the child's hands.

True to her nature, though, Kasie didn't cry, just grunted loudly and clutched her hands to herself to protect them.

Julie ran a shallow bath, got Kasie cleaned up, then staggered to the kitchen.

"Where in the hell is your daddy?" she asked Andrea, who seemed bound and determined to get underfoot.

"I don't know," Andrea shrugged.

Julie looked out the window but there was no sign of Mike's car.

The clock on the stove was unreliable, usually losing anywhere from ten to twenty minutes any time she or Mike would reset it, but as near as she could figure, it was just after seven o'clock in the morning. She fixed the girls their breakfast, ate a little (mostly what Kasie didn't eat) and waited.

At approximately nine o'clock, she called Sylvia, Mike's mother.

"What?" the woman hissed, her dislike overly apparent.

"Miss Sylvia, Mike there?" Julie asked, deeply puzzled at the venom she could hear in Sylvia Chamblee's voice.

"No and even if he was, I wouldn't tell you, you whore," the woman hissed and slammed the phone down.

Julie stared at the phone, shocked. She knew Mike's mother didn't like her, had never approved of Mike marrying her, but the woman had always been civil.

"Andrea, did Daddy say anything to you before y'all came to get me yesterday?" Julie asked.

"No ma'am," Andrea said, shaking her head no.

"You sure?" Julie pressed. "Did he say anything about Maw-maw being mad at Mommy?"

"No ma'am," Andrea said, practicing standing on one foot.

Julie went back into the bedroom and noticed that the closet door was open.

She peered in and noticed that the left side was empty.

She had the right side, along with most of the closet in the third bedroom. She needed more closet space; there were several different sizes represented in her clothes. There were the ones from before the birth of Andrea, then the few between Andrea and Kasie, then three years of clothing, each year slightly larger than the last. Of course, she could throw nothing out; she fully intended to get back into the smallest of the outfits; those from her high school glory days.

Mike had two drawers in the battered chest of drawers and the left side of the closet. And now, those were empty.

She noticed an envelope on top of the vanity, where his shaving cream and razor normally sat. She picked it up and looked at the logo for a medical center in New Orleans was in the upper left hand corner. 

There were a few sheets of paper inside, looked like a computer printout, printed on the old continuous feed paper.

None of what she was looking at made much sense, but she did recognize that it was the results of three DNA tests.

"Just fucking great," she muttered weakly.

She had strongly doubted if Andrea was Mike's kid; she was pretty sure that Andrea had been conceived on a long, drunken weekend in Houston. She and a friend had gone to Houston to watch the New Orleans Saints play the Houston Texans and had managed to get into the same hotel that the New Orleans Saints were staying in.

She came back, thoroughly satiated from multiple partners, made up with Mike (she'd staged an argument so that she and Kaitlin Monroe could go on the weekend trip) and prayed he wouldn't notice how stretched out her pussy was.

Four months later, Mike married the now pregnant Julie, against his mother's wishes. For the first five months of their marriage, Julie held her breath, praying that the baby would be white; she had no idea how many people she had slept with, and wasn't sure that all of them had been white.

Kasie, she knew for certain was not Mike's child; she had been conceived by Joseph Marcoloni, for the brief time that Julie had worked at First Union Bank. It had been Joseph that had looped a thick gold chain around Julie's narrow waist. Julie proudly wore the chain and the attached gold heart pendant, daring Mike to ask where it came from.

But even Joseph had no choice but to fire Julie when she went on a prestigious bender that kept her out of the office for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and part of Thursday. When Julie did stagger in that Thursday morning, it was plainly obvious that she had been drinking that morning.

She now wore the heavy chain and heart around her neck; the chain unable to fit around her waist.

"Mommy, can you put on 'Little Mermaid' for us?" Andrea asked, holding out the disc.

"Yeah, yeah, be there in a minute," Julie sighed.

****

At approximately ten that morning, Julie stilled her hand long enough to punch out the numbers for the Bargain Bin clothing store.

"Bargain Bin, today's Sales are..." Grace, the manager and part owner of the Bargain Bin intoned.

"Grace, this is Julie; Mike there pleases?" Julie interrupted.

"What? Mike? Julie, he quit two weeks ago," Grace said. "Friday was his last day; he didn't tell you?"

"No he, wait, what? He quit?" Julie stammered.

"Oh, that's right, you were in rehab, but yeah, came in and gave me his two weeks notice. Going to miss him, now it's up to me and Mindy to unload all them boxes and let me tell you, Mindy is just about useless," Grace said.

Julie heard mindy's muffled protests and Grace's laughter.

"He says where he was going? Maybe he got another job?" Julie asked.

"Nope, just said he'd had enough of living here; wanted to try something new," Grace said. "Oh, hey, Julie? Got another call coming in, talk with you later, and okay?"

Chapter 3

Frank Carrecci stood on the front porch of his rental home and knocked forcefully on the door.

"Yes?" Julie snapped, waving her hand to clear away the cigarette smoke.

"Third of the month," Frank growled.

"Um, okay," Julie said, unsure why the man was telling her what the date was.

"Rent's due third of the month.

"Aw, just fucking unbelievable," Julie snarled. "God! This shit ever going to end?"

She had guzzled one of the non-alcoholic beers; there was nothing else in the house to drink and now craved alcohol. The short and fat ugly man that belched cigarette smoke in her face wasn't helping her foul mood one bit.

"Mike here?" Frank asked.

"No and I don't have a clue where he is either; haven't seen him since yesterday," Julie snapped.

"'Cause his is the only name on the lease," Frank continued.

"And?" Julie asked, screwing up her face against more of Frank's cigarette smoke.

"And your name ain't on the lease," Frank said.

"I'm Julie. Julie Chamblee, Mike's wife," Julie snapped. "Could you blow that smoke anywhere else but in my face?"

"Sorry, wind's blowing it, not me," Frank agreed and dropped the cigarette to the concrete step and stamped it out with his shoe.

"Mommy, Kasie's got another stinky," Andrea loudly proclaimed.

"Get back in the house," Julie ordered.

"Listen, it's the third of the month, rent's due," Frank said and pulled another cigarette out of his shirt pocket.

"Look, Mister..." Julie snapped.

"Carrecci, Frank Carrecci; my house. Been renting it to Mike," Frank said and remembered Julie didn't want cigarette smoke blown in her face, so put the cigarette back into his pocket.

"Well, Mr. Carrecci, Mike's not here, I'm not sure where he is or when he's going to be here, but as soon as I see him..." Julie napped, preparing to go back into the warm house.

"Maybe you do not understand me," Frank snapped, permanent scowl becoming deeper. "It is the third of the month."

"I understand you perfectly," Julie snapped back. "And as soon as..."

"I will be back tomorrow; I expect my eight hundred, in my hand," Frank said, lighting the cigarette.

"As soon as I can get a hold of Mike..." Julie yelled at Frank's wide back.

"Honey, I don't give a shit you get a hold of Mike or not; if I do not get my rent by tomorrow, your fat ass is out on the street, got it?" Frank yelled back, purposefully blowing the cigarette smoke in her direction.

****

Julie put both girls down for a mid-day nap, and then tore the house apart, looking for money, alcohol, or drugs.

In a dresser drawer in the third bedroom, she did find a crisp hundred dollar bill that Mike had apparently hidden underneath their old high school yearbooks. She also found her old stash of marijuana; she had no idea how old the stuff was, but gratefully rolled a joint and smoked it.

Then, thirsty, she drank another non-alcoholic beer and started the cravings all over again.

Julie chanced a call to her mother. Naturally, her mother, seeing the phone number on her Caller ID, let Julie's call go to the answering machine. Julie launched into her message, a blend of begging and demanding Marnie Vogel help her and her two granddaughters.

She also attempted a second call to Sylvia Chamblee. Sylvia Chamblee also let Julie's call go to the answering machine.

****

Frank stood on the doorstep, listening impassively as Julie whined, wheedled, and begged.

"It's eight hundred, not one hundred," he growled, holding the one hundred dollar bill Julie had given him.

I know, but I couldn't, I'm trying to get..." Julie begged.

"How?" Frank interrupted her shrill begging. "Huh? How? You got a job?"

"Well, no, but..." Julie stammered.

"Then where? You going to pull the money from? Out your ass?" Frank asked.

Julie opened her mouth but couldn't think of anything else to say. Inside, she could hear the television set blaring a Disney movie, could hear Andrea's delighted laughter.

"Please, Mr. Carrecci, is there anything...?" Julie asked, tears pooling in her eyes, voice barely more than a whisper.

"Like what?" Frank asked, beady eyes squinting more.

"Like, you know," Julie whispered, then pointed to her crotch.

"You mean a piece of ass?" Frank asked.

Julie couldn't force the words out so, blushing hotly, simply nodded her head 'yes.'

Frank Carrecci appeared to be in his mid to late fifties (he was actually forty six years old) was at least two to three inches shorter than her, with a large, balding head, beady little eyes behind thick horn-rimmed glasses, a very large Roman nose, and permanent scowl on his fleshy face. His teeth were stained from years of cigarette smoke, as were his fingers.

She could tell, though, that his clothing was expensive and in good taste, and the nearly brand new Mercedes Benz parked in front of the house also announced, despite his unattractive appearance, Frank Carrecci was moneyed.

"What time them kids go to bed?" Frank asked.

"I don't know," Julie sobbed out.

"Get them in bed by nine, hear?" Frank ordered and lighted another cigarette. "Then you and me can talk more."

"Yes sir," Julie said and stepped back from the offensive cloud of smoke.

****

Julie had emptied the bottle of Listerine and was debating on whether or not she could smoke another joint before Frank Carrecci came in. Desperation drove her to roll and light the joint, just as the knock came.

Frank waddled in, without his ever-present cigarette. He sniffed the air and scowled deeper.

"You smoke dope, that's your business; don't be smoking that shit in front of them kids, hear?" Frank growled.

Julie bit back the retort; it angered her that this man thought he could tell her how to raise her kids, but she needed to be in his good graces.

"That's why I ain't smoking right now; bad enough I'm polluting my lungs, don't need to be polluting little girls' lungs too," Frank continued and took a seat at the dining room table.

He looked around the kitchen and dining area, faces curled in disgust.

"So, um, Julie, what you do all day? He asked.

"What? What you mean?" she asked, taking a large hit off of the joint.

"Simple question; what do you do all day long? I already know you don't have a job," Frank asked, voice hard.

"You try running after two little girls all day long and see..." Julie shrilled.

"My Donna ran after our boy, managed to keep the house spotless, cooked meals, from scratch, none of that shit out of a can for her, no sir, and found time to make herself look good," Frank cut in. "Damned sure didn't sit around on her fat ass, getting wasted all day long, that's for sure."

Julie clenched her jaw tight; she wanted to stay on Frank's good side.

"So, Julie, let's get down to business, huh?" Frank said, wiping at a smudge of apple jelly on the table.

"Yes sir," Julie said, getting to her feet and pulling the soiled tee shirt over her head.

"Hang on; let's get a few things straight here," Frank said.

"Um, oh, okay," Julie said, crossing her arms in front of her bra covered breasts.

"First off, what you got between your legs? Ain't worth eight hundred a month, you hear? We're going to put you and your girls into an apartment. Sorry, I know you think your pussy's worth a lot more than that, but it ain't," Frank said.

Julie stared at him, mouth open in shock.

"I'll bring over some boxes tomorrow, help you start packing. I figure we should be able to get you all moved in by next Saturday; gives us almost two weeks, all right?" Frank continued.

"I got a choice?" Julie asked bitterly.

"Yeah, you can always tell me fuck off and go find yourself some place else to live," Frank shrugged. "Now, let's see what I'm getting."

Julie closed her eyes and unhooked her bra.

"Damn, not bad," Frank agreed. "Nice fat nipples, like that and none of them dumb ass tattoos fucking it all up; why you kids got to run around getting them tattoos anyway?" 

"Always wanted one but never could figure out what to get," Julie admitted.

"Don't; five years later you'll be sick of it but your stuck with them," Frank said.

Julie stood up and slid her sweatpants down her wide hips.

"Natural blonde, huh?" Frank cackled. "Turn around, let's see that ass."

Julie wanted to burst into tears; she felt thoroughly humiliated as she turned around.

"Damn, got a lot of cottage cheese in them thighs, girl," Frank said.

"Could you please...?" Julie whispered.

"Fuck girl, you're a whore, get used to it," Frank snapped. "I'm going to be looking at your body; I'm going to be saying it like I see it."

"I'm not a whore!" Julie shrilled.

"Shh, don't need to be waking them kids up," Frank snapped.

"I am not a..." Julie hissed angrily.

"You offer to fuck me for a place to live, right? What do you call it?" Frank said. "Got any condoms?"

"I am not a..." Julie repeated.

"We can sit here an argue all night long but it still doesn't change the facts," Frank sneered. "Now, got any condoms or not?"

"Don't need them; Crestview gave me a clean bill of health," Julie snapped.

"Bull shit think I'm sticking my dick in that bear trap of yours without any rubbers," Frank said.

"I'll go see," Julie said, took one last hit off of her joint and carefully put it out.

She found a box in Mike's nightstand drawer, fished around, and found two condoms.

"Here, she said, handing the two condoms to Frank.

"Good, good, how about you see if you can get me up?" Frank asked, standing up.




Victims And Volunteers



Julie was no fan of performing oral sex, but she got onto her knees and fished Frank's cock out.

Frank's cock, like the rest of him, was fat, as were his balls. He was also uncircumcised, something Julie had never seen before.

"Yeah, run your tongue around inside there, make sure it's good and clean," Frank encouraged.

He reached down and hefted Julie's left breast, pinching and squeezing.

Julie closed her eyes and took the bulbous head of frank's cock into her mouth, briefly ran her tongue around underneath the thick foreskin, then tried to feed a few inches of Frank's cock into her mouth.

His skin had the stench of his nearly four packs a day cigarette habit. Julie fought the urge to vomit as she tasted the nicotine tinged flesh.

Mike, even though he smoked, had kept himself reasonably clean. On the few occasions that Julie had taken him into her mouth, he had not reeked like this.

"This the first cock you ever sucked?" Frank asked.

"No, not really," Julie said and tried to do a better job.

"Yeah, that's going to have to do, go get on the couch," Frank finally said and opened one of the condom packs.

She lies down and spread her legs, waiting. Frank, now without his trousers, waddled into the living room.

"God damn, dry as a bone!" Frank said as he felt her pussy. "Fuck! Got any lube?"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," Julie said and scurried out of the living room.

She opened the drawer, got out the lubricant, and slathered a dollop onto her hand, then slathered it around and him her pussy.

Frank leaned back and let Julie assume her previous position.

"That's a little better now, isn't it?" Frank asked as he slowly pushed himself into her.

Julie didn't answer; just lay there as Frank forced himself into her.

"Aw yeah, not bad, hey, get up," Frank said after thrusting into her for a few minutes. "There, get on your hands and knees, all right?"

He again inserted himself into her and grabbed onto her breasts.

He pounded into her for nearly twenty minutes. Julie very nearly started to enjoy his fat cock pushing into her, stretching her open.

"Fuck yeah," Frank finally wheezed out and tensed.

He gripped the base of the condom and pulled his cock out of her.

She kept her eyes closed as she dressed, her face burning with shame.

"Okay, I'll be back tomorrow with them boxes; you need newspaper too or you got that?" Frank asked, once again dressed.

"Need some newspapers," Julie admitted.

"All right, see you tomorrow," Frank said.

After the door closed behind him, Julie lay down on the couch and cried herself to sleep.

****

True to his word, Frank came in with several boxes; he had to make a few trips out to his car to retrieve them all.

"Okay, young lady," he said to Andrea. "Your job is very important; I need you to take all them movies and put them right here, in this box, okay?"

"Yes sir," Andrea agreed and did carefully put the three movies into the small box.

"Very good; you've done this before?" Frank asked, getting a giggle from the four year old child.

Julie watched, trying to reconcile the happy, gentle man that took the time to include a child in their activities with the harsh, unfeeling man that had fucked her the night before.

"Okay, Andrea, now, this is important, all right? You see these Tupperware containers? They need to go in this box right here, okay?" Frank went on.

"And this..." he said, scooping Kasie into his arms. "This needs to go right here!"

He put the girl into a box and wadded up some newspapers and dropped them into the box with the now smiling girl.

"Yeah! Need to make sure she's good and padded, right? Wouldn't want her to get hurt, especially if we accidentally drop the box on her head, right?" Frank asked the girl.

He frowned and looked at Julie.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked.

"She's um, I uh, she has Fetal Alcoholic Syndrome," Julie said, face hot.

"And? What's that mean?" Frank asked, gesturing for her to hurry up with her story.

"She's retarded," Andrea volunteered.

"Fetal Alcohol..." Frank said. "So, you were drinking while you were knocked up with her?"

"Yes," Julie admitted, carefully wrapping a glass in newspaper.

"You know you were pregnant?" Frank persisted.

"Yeah," Julie coughed out.

"Poor baby girl," Frank crooned to the girl who was happily pulling at the papers in her box.

After a few hours of packing, Frank asked when the girls normally ate their lunch.

"Whenever," Julie shrugged.

"They need to be on some kind of schedule," Frank barked at her.

He looked at his Rolex watch and nodded his head firmly.

"Eleven thirty; that ought to be a good time for them; I'll be back," he announced. "Plus that, I'm dying for a cigarette."

Fifteen minutes later, he was back, two McDonald's Happy Meals and two Big Macs and a super sized fries in hand.

"Here," he said, shoving a chocolate malt in Julie's hand. "Figure you need the sugar; you're shaking like a leaf."

Julie sat, alternating between feeding Kasie and eating her own meal. Frank made sure to keep Andrea busy with her own meal.

"Oh!" Andrea gasped. "Look, Kasie! They got toys!"

"For AFTER you finish eating," Frank said.

Frank and Julie continued packing while Andrea played with her and Kasie's toys.

"Thank you for lunch," Julie finally managed to say.

"Uh huh," Frank said. "Need your Social Security number."

"What? Why you need that?" Julie asked.

"Got to get the utilities turned on in your name," Frank said and taped his box shut.

Julie found out, after putting the girls down for their naps, that lunch came with a price.

"Damn, come on," Frank wheezed as he pumped his cock in and out of Julie's mouth.

Suddenly, he tensed and Julie started to pull her head away as the first salty spurt filled her mouth.

"Aw yeah," Frank crooned, holding her head tight.

Julie swallowed and swallowed and finally Frank relaxed his hold on her head.

"Okay, tomorrow, we need to go through your furniture; you need to decide what you need and what you can do with out," Frank said, zipping up his jeans.

Julie sat on the couch, feeling disgusted with herself, feeling sorry for herself.

****

"God damn, what?" Frank asked as he waddled into the house. "You quit working the minute I left here?"

Julie gritted her teeth; she had not done a thing after he had left her house the previous afternoon.

"Okay, the bed and the crib, that dresser," Frank said, standing in the doorway of the girls' room.

"Not that, not that," Frank continued, standing in the doorway of Julie's bedroom.

"Wait, what? My furniture..." Julie protested.

"It's a one bedroom apartment, four hundred a month," Frank said. "You ain't got room for all that other shit."

"But, where I'm supposed to sleep?" Julie asked.

"Couch," Frank shrugged then looked back into the bedroom. "Yeah, probably ought to take that, need some place keep your drawers and stuff; got anything else?"

Frank vetoed all the other furniture in the house, except for the dining room table and chairs and the living room furniture.

"Know what?" Frank said, looking around. "We should be able to get you in there by this Saturday, what you think?" 

At eleven fifteen, Frank announced it was close to lunch time and left.

"Who likes hot dogs?" he asked fifteen minutes later, carrying the Clark's Drive In bag.

"Love that place," Frank murmured to Julie. "Them girls in them shorts, Wow!"

"I worked there about five years ago, right before..." Julie said and pointed to Andrea.

"No shi... kidding?" Frank said, glancing at her heavy thighs.

After putting the girls down for their naps, Frank again pumped his cock in and out of her mouth. When he started to come, though, this time he let her pull her head away.

"Hey!" Julie protested as he kept her head close with his left hand and pumped his cock with his right hand, spurting his come onto her face.

"Don't like to swallow, get used to getting facials," he wheezed and finished coming.

"See you Saturday; be ready to work your ass off," Frank said. "New address is right there on the table; got you some change of address cards right there too."

Julie sat pen in hand for several long moments. Other than Mike, she didn't know who would be interested in her new address, and she had no idea how to get in touch with him. Finally, she did fill out one to mail to her mother and one to mail to Mike's mother.

****

Friday, the electricity was cut off at their house. A call to Lafayette Utilities confirmed that Mike had asked that the electricity be disconnected. Thankfully, the water was still on. Andrea took it in stride and Kasie did not react.

After lunch, Julie had a sudden thought and picked up the telephone. There was still a dial tone, so she felt secure in that.

On Saturday morning, Frank pulled up to the house in a large pick up truck. Two day laborers got out and immediately began hauling the boxes to the truck.

"What's wrong with your phone?" Frank asked, stepping into the dark house. "And what's with the no lights?"

"Mike had the electricity turned off yesterday," Julie shrugged. "Phone still works, though."

"Hell it does; I tried calling it this morning," Frank growled.

"No, see? There's a dial tone," Julie said, picking up the receiver.

"Federal law, you have to have some way of calling nine one one," Frank snapped. "And when did the electricity go off?"

"Yesterday, about ten I think," Julie shrugged her shoulders.

"Next time shit like that happens you call me," Frank growled at her and pointed out the furniture to the two laborers.

It seemed like the truck was packed in only minutes, the most work Julie had was keeping Andrea out of the way so the two men could work.

"Be back," Frank promised and drove off.

****

The new apartment was small, much smaller than the three bedrooms, one and one half bath house. The bedroom had Andrea's small bed, Kasie's crib, the children's dresser, and Julie's chest of drawers.

"Need to go through all this shi... stuff, figure out what you can throw out," Frank grumbled as he hauled in another armful of Julie's clothes. "No one needs this many clothes."

"Mr. Frank, where's my toys?" Andrea asked.

"Honey, it's in one of them boxes, but right now, we don't have time to be looking for them, all right?" Frank said, dropping Julie's clothes onto the floor of the closet.

When all the items that were to be moved had been arranged to Julie's approval, Frank pulled her close.

"Need to tell them men thank you," he hissed to her. "They busted their asses."

"Yes sir," Julie said and did thank the men for their hard labor.

"Now, I plan to stop by tonight about ten, that all right?" Frank lowered his voice so that Andrea did not hear him.

"Yeah," Julie said flatly.

****

Julie finally wrestled the two kids into their beds and had barely sat down when Frank's knock came.

They exchanged stiff greetings, just standing and regarding each other uncomfortably. Finally, Frank shrugged his shoulders.

"Now," Frank said, indicating the couch.

"I uh, I don't know where the condoms are," Julie said as she shimmed out of her jeans.

"Got my own," Frank said, pulling a three pack out of his pocket.

He didn't want to stick his unprotected dick into her but seemed to have no problem sticking his tongue into her blonde thicket.

"Oh!" Julie exclaimed as his tongue brought on a small orgasm.

He rolled a condom on, then speared her and pounded her for several long moments.

"Now," he said, after they were finished. "Wednesday's my night, hear? I figure stop by about nine, okay?"

"Uh huh," Julie said, looking away from him.

"You ought to like it here," Frank said, waddling to the door. "Good neighbors, no loud parties, got a big fenced in yard for them kids get some fresh air."

He lighted a cigarette, opened the door, and was gone.

"Thanks a lot, Mike," Julie bitterly spat out as she tried to get comfortable on the lumpy couch. "I'm a fucking whore now; thanks a whole hell of a fucking lot, Mike."

Chapter 4

The news that George had beaten Marco Philippe Juarez to death did shock Julie, did bring the realities of her own alcoholism even more sharply into focus.

The Crestview Lodge said they would return the cheap suitcase and the soiled clothing that Julie had left behind when she paid the balance of the motel bill.

"Keep it," Julie laughed into the telephone. "If I'd wanted that shit; I'd have taken it with me when I left."

She heated a can of ravioli for the girls' lunch and then put them down for a nap.

She knew it was highly dangerous, knew it was extremely foolhardy, but the moment the girls lay down, Julie left the apartment and walked rapidly down Highway 52 to the Flowers Gold and Coin Shop. Despite its name, the Flowers Gold and Coin Shop was little more than a run-down pawn shop.

Julie slipped the long gold chain and gold pendant from around her neck and dangled it in front of the hard faced man.

"This real gold?" he asked.

"Yes," Julie huffed; offended that he would question that. "Like I'd chance turning my skin all green."

He named a price and Julie grabbed it and started to walk away.

"Fine, fine, what you want for it?" he asked.

They settled on four hundred and seventy five dollars; the pendant had four diamond chips around its periphery.

"How about them rings?" the man asked, tapping Julie's left hand.

"My wedding..." Julie asked, looking at her engagement and wedding rings "Not on your life!"

Hey, never hurts to ask," the man defended. "Some women? Can't wait to get them rings off."

Julie dashed across Highway 52 and entered the convenience store; she ought two fifths of vodka, a gallon jug of milk, a gallon jug of orange juice, and a quart of apple juice, remembering that Kasie liked apple juice.

She ran-walked back to the apartment as quickly as possible and let herself in just as Kasie started fussing.

"Hi, want some apple juice?" she asked, smiling.

For the next four hours, Julie and Andrea put their household things away, but Julie felt the draw of the two bottles that stood on top of her refrigerator. She was short, irritable as Andrea happily chattered about the items she was putting away.

"And this is for burgers, right? Why you don't make burgers, Mommy? Daddy always makes us burgers; his are almost as good as McDonald's; you know how to make burgers like Daddy, Mommy?" Andrea chattered.

"No, Andrea, Daddy never would tell me what the secret ingredient is," Julie snapped.

She didn't know what was worse; not having vodka and not knowing when or where to get any, or having it right within reach and not being able to drink it because of two brats that need her undivided attention.

Finally, dinner was cooked, eaten, and cleaned up. Two girls were bathed, dried, and put into pajamas. Julie forced herself to play 'Candy Land' with Andrea; she held Kasie in her lap, playing as if Kasie was playing the game with her big sister.

"That's okay, Kasie, you'll win next time," Andrea encouraged the unresponsive girl.

"Okay, let's say our prayer," Julie said, nerves at the breaking point.

She remembered opening the bottle, pouring the first drink, but did not know how or why Andrea found her, sound asleep in a bathtub filled with cold water. The remnants of a candle sat on a saucer, and the edge of the shower curtain showed some melting where it had come too close to the candle.

"Fuck, could have set the whole place on fire," Julie mumbled to herself as she lumbered to her feet.

Kasie had obviously been up for a while; she needed a bath. Julie burst into sobs of self-pity as she got the child clean.

"Don't cry, Mommy, I'll help you," Andrea promised.

****

Julie almost snickered as Frank entered the apartment for his Wednesday night 'date.'

"Rent's four hundred, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, four hundred a month," Frank agreed.

"Okay, here this month's rent," Julie sneered as she slapped four hundred dollars, all in twenty dollar bills into his hand. "So, um, I guess we won't be..."

"Good, good, rent's paid," Frank agreed and sat down at her table.

"That's right," Julie crowed.

"And what about the sixty two dollars have the electricity turned on?" Frank asked. "Got that too?"

"Uh," Julie stammered, face falling.

"And the ninety dollars have your phone turned back on?" Frank asked.

"Well I uh," Julie stammered.

"Got money for groceries?" Frank asked. "Then kids can't live off a liquid diet like you, you know?"

"I uh," Julie said, hanging her head.

"Here, Baby, here, go put that in your purse, okay?" Frank said gently, putting the four hundred into her hand. "Keep it for a rainy day; them kids going to need something when you least expect it; this way, you'll be able to get it for them."

"So I guess we're going to fuck anyway," Julie bitterly said under her breath.

She put the money into her wallet and stripped out of her clothes.

Their coupling was quick; just like the first time, she sucked him to erection, he pulled a condom on, made her slap some lubrication on, and then fucked her.

"Need anything?" Frank asked as he put his trousers back on.

"A gun so I can blow my fucking brains out," Julie thought.

"I don't think so," she said listlessly, pulling her filthy shorts back on.

"How are y'all on food? Got what you need? Milk? Bread? Eggs?" he persisted.

"Well, no' we're just about out of..." Julie admitted.

"Okay, I'll stop by tomorrow about eleven thirty," Frank said and lighted a cigarette. "We'll take them kids down to Clark's; didn't you say you used to work there?" 

"Yeah," Julie agreed, waving at the offensive cigarette smoke.

"Oops, sorry," Frank said and hurriedly left the apartment.

Julie looked good and hard at her rings. She tried, not very hard, to pull them off of her left hand, but they didn't budge.

"Really wonder," she said as she turned off the lamp. "Really fucking wonders just how important they really are. Bet Mike couldn't wait to hock his fucking ring minute he was out of here."

****

Frank took the two car seats down, then twenty minutes later, sweating profusely; he came back up the stairs.

"Damn, supposed to be super easy hook them goofy ass things up, huh?" he wheezed.

Julie wanted to point out that it would have gone a lot quicker without the three cigarette breaks he had taken, but kept her mouth shut.

"Okay, I'm kind of confused; we're going to Clark's, then what?" Julie 

"You said you needed groceries, right?" Frank said as he buckled Andrea into her car seat.

"Yes sir, Julie agreed, finally getting an uncooperative Kasie situated in her car seat.

Frank drove them to the restaurant and whistled under his breath as an attractive teenager, tee shirt stretched tight across perky teacup sized breasts and bright red shorts showing a camel toe came skating toward them.

"Damn, bet you looked good, huh?" Frank muttered, glancing sideways at Julie.

"I think I did," Julie almost smiled.

"Still fit in you're...?" Frank asked as the girl skated away, a good chunk of her rear end peeking out of the shorts.

"I wouldn't be able to put my arm into that tee shirt, much less get it over my boobs," Julie laughed mirthlessly. "And the shorts wouldn't get halfway up my calf."

Lunch was quickly eaten, and then Frank drove them to the Piggly Wiggly in DeGarde.

"Okay," Frank said as they got Kasie into the grocery cart's child seat. "Your budget is two hundred."

"Wow, that's pretty...I don't know if we need that much," Julie protested.

"For the month," Frank corrected. "I mean, milk, bread, that kind of shi... stuff, you're going to need to get that every week, but you know, all that other stuff, need to make it last all month, got it?"




Victims And Volunteers



"Thank you," Julie mumbled.





Once again, Julie found herself repaying Frank's kindness with her mouth.

"See you Wednesday," Frank muttered.

"God damn hate this fucking shit," Julie spat angrily, using a paper towel to wipe his semen from her face.

She checked; both Andrea and Kasie were still sleeping. While they had their afternoon nap, Julie fixed herself a vodka and orange juice. A second, third and fourth drink quickly followed.

The End of 'Victims and Volunteers 01.'



**Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment.

Thank you for reading.