2 comments/ 21665 views/ 0 favorites Justice By: Fable The girl in front of me adjusted a faded red cloth in her back pocket, stuffing it farther down as if to assure herself that it was still there. I couldn't help noticing how the cloth draped over the pocket; following the movement of her butt as her weight shifted. The legs of her snug fitting jeans hid the tops of sturdy, yet worn, work boots. She was paying for, I took notice, two six packs of cheep beer which the clerk was placing in separate bags, a pack of medium sized cigars went in one of the bags and a pint of, I couldn't tell, either gin or vodka, was slipped into the other. Her tanned cheekbone caught my eye as she turned to leave. 'She's a woman with a girl's ass', I thought, as I stepped up to pay for a six-pack of Samuel Adams Dark. I told the clerk that I didn't need a bag for my purchase. At my truck, I was transferring the bottles of beer to a small ice chest when I heard the most annoying sound that a car can make; the grinding of a starter that refuses to send a signal to the distributor and its cohorts. She was definitely a woman. No girl could mold her face into the twisted exhibit of frustration that I was witnessing. I wondered if she was sitting on the red cloth. "Can I help?" I asked, stepping to her door and praying that I would not have to lift the hood. I'm no good with cars but I was willing to do almost anything to silence the sound that was pulverizing my eardrums. The interruption caught her by surprise but it served my purpose; she abandoned her attempts to make the engine awaken from its slumber and magically turn over. "Do you have the time?" There was still a frenzied look in her eyes but it did not show in her voice. I shook my head as I displayed my tanned wrist and the absence of a timepiece. "Would you like to call someone?" I asked, offering my cell. "I have a phone. If I call them they'll leave before I get back," she answered, making her forehead wrinkle. 'Who're them?' I wondered. "It was 10 to 5 when we were in the store," I remembered, conceding that I had noticed her in the liquor store. There was no indication that she cared. "Could you give me a lift?" the wrinkles were still there but not from a frown, there was a softness in her face. Her skin had a leathery texture, the result of long hours in the sun. It was approaching 5 P.M. and I needed to be someplace. "Sure, I'll make a call," I said. She placed the two bags on the floorboard and hopped into the cab of my truck as I dialed the number. "Mike, I'm going to be a little late," I said, trying to abbreviate the call, knowing I would not be able to get by with it, not with Mike. "What's up? I got the engine started already," he sounded annoyed, yet curious as to why I wasn't there yet. "Taking a lady someplace, call you later," I said, knowing he wouldn't let me go. If I hung up he would call me back and if I shut off my phone he would be pissed. I let him talk. "Where you goin?" he wanted to know. So did I. "He want's to know where I'm taking you," I looked to my passenger for directions. She was removing the contents from one of her bags and opening the other one with her left hand. There were no rings on that hand. "Do you know Harmon Way?" she asked as she placed four of the beers on top of the other six. I was stumped and asked Mike. He didn't know it either. She pulled the red cloth out of her back pocket, then retrieved a slip of paper. "It's a private way, off Custer," she read from the paper, while lifting her butt off of the seat to stuff the cloth back into her back pocket. "Custer?" I questioned Mike who told me to go to Cleveland and then to Custer which was a few blocks down, on the left. "You'll go right by the house you're renting," he said. "OK, got it," I said, not wanting to respond to his remark about the cottage that a friend was letting me have for a time, free of charge. "It's not far, we're doing a job there," the lady volunteered. "Is she cute?" came from the phone. Embarrassed, I paid attention to my driving, making a left onto Cleveland. "Yeah, I guess," then, feeling her eyes on me I turned and repeated what he was asking. "He wants to know if you're cute," I said, looking for a reaction from her. "And you said Yeah, I guess?" she smiled for the first time and I saw the thin lips that surrounded a set of even, white teeth. Her short hair clung to her cheeks, just covering her ears, which I almost knew were small. "What did she say?" Mike was wanting to know. "Why don't you talk to her?" I said to Mike, extending the phone to the woman. She wouldn't take it, shaking her head and smiling, a rose color replaced the brown in her cheeks. We were passing Justice, the side street where my cottage was located. "Hold on," Mike said, "I'm going to shut down the engine." I laid the phone on the seat, face down. Custer was coming up on the right. I relayed that information to the woman, telling her that my buddy was on his boat, waiting for me. We were going out to a secret location to look for blues. "My husband was a fisherman," she mentioned, dreamily. 'Was?,' I thought. "Commercial?" I asked, turning to her again. "Commercial? No, he was in the road building business," she explained, "until he got killed," her voice trailed off. "I'm trying to keep the business going, HERE, HERE, THERE, you passed it," she turned to look out the back window, a drained look on her face. I turned around at the next cross street and we headed back to Harmon Way. We drove over crushed stone that made a scrunching sound under the tires. Five guys were gathered around two pieces of road equipment and a dump truck. There was an apathetic air among them but they did stroll toward her when the woman got out of my truck. She had said nothing to me, leaving the second bag in my truck when she got out. I heard them laughing and one, a massive guy with a barrel chest, took the cigars from her and said loudly, "Annie, what kind of trouble did you get yourself in this time?" They all looked in my direction. I couldn't hear her answer. "Paul, are you there," came from the 'phone on the seat which I had forgotten. "Where you been? What's happening? Mike wanted to know. "We found it, her company is paving the road," I gave him all the information I could, it was a short street with four large homes going up around a cul-de-sac with what looked to be plantings in the center. I also filled him in on the bare ring finger and her husband's death. 'She probably wears it when she's not working,' I thought. "Well, come on, you're only ten minutes away, I'll start the engine again, you got the beer?" Mike barked. "Can't," I said, "she left a bag in the truck." "Shit! If we left now we could get back before dark," he sounded wounded. "Sorry," I said. We had looked forward to the evening, a beer of my choice on the way out, an hour of trolling around 'Mike's Reef' and another beer on the return trip. We would finish the six pack at the dock before we parted for the night. Mike was one of two friends I had in the area, the other being the owner of the cottage where I was bunking. They had never met, each feeling totally responsible for my comfort and recreation schedule during my hiatus from my wife, and my lackluster life. Mike was a college friend while Ed had been an army buddy. "What's her name?" Mike broke the silence. "Annie, I guess," relying on what I had heard the burly guy call her. "What are they doing?" "They're drinking the beer that she brought and having a smoke, just joking around, she's talking to them," I reported what I could see through the windshield. "Maybe she forgot she left her bag in your truck, what's it look like anyway?" "Just a paper bag," I said. "With two beers and a pint of vodka as far as I know." "For Christ's sake, just throw it out the window to her, I thought you meant she left her purse or something, you know, her bag." Mike sounded like he did back at school when things weren't going his way. We had not been roomies, we had lived across the hall from one another but we were well acquainted with one another's foibles. "It's okay,she's coming now," I said. "Can you give me a lift?" Annie said, stepping up and perching one hip on the passengers seat. She had the same wrinkled forehead and her perched lips suggested she had more to say. "I don't want any of them driving me home, they might get ideas." She was not quite in the cab, awaiting my answer. "Even if they didn't, get ideas that is, they would tell the others they did, you should hear them talk sometimes." She looked at me, expectantly as if I was her only chance to get home safely. "How far?" I asked. "What? How far where?" came from the phone which was now in my lap. "It's not that far, Stafford, do you know where that is?" Annie asked. I brought the phone to my ear, "Stafford, you know where that is?" Mike went into a screaming rage but at one point during his tirade I heard him say twenty miles to the north. "Close the door," I said to Annie," handing her the phone. "You talk to him." I pulled out of the private way. The five workmen were opening their second beer, watching us drive away, to the north. I heard her say something into the instrument, then pause, a blank stare on her face. She turned to me. "Did you tell him my name?" What could I say? I had been caught eavesdropping. "My name's Paul and that's Mike," I said, hoping the introductions would soothe things. She didn't hear me, her ear was pressed to the receiver and there was a slight grin on her face. "He did?" I heard her say and she looked at me, laughing. Her narrow face fervid and aglow. They talked and I drove. Annie laughed continuously. All I heard her say was 'really?....I don't believe you,' before she lapsed into another episode of laughter. We had traveled about ten minutes when she held the phone to one side and looked my way, "he wants us to come by the boat," she said, shaking her head, no. "Tell him no," I said, emphatically, as if 'NO' would satisfy my friend. "You tell him," she said, handing me the phone. "I have to make a call anyway." She produced a cell phone from the denim vest she wore over a T shirt which, like the cloth in her back pocket, was faded red. For the next five minutes I tried to explain to Mike why we could not turn back, we were in five o'clock traffic and it was slow going, it would take us 25 minutes to get to the boat and for what? Mike revealed that he just wanted to meet Annie. He divulged that he was infatuated with her voice. "Is she really cute?" he asked. "Hell yes, she's cute," I whispered. Annie was talking, probably to a machine as there were no interruptions for listening. She seemed to be giving detailed instructions. Mike fired one question after another. "Five three, 30 something, 30ish, maybe thirty-four, I don't know, one oh six and a half," I guessed. "One oh eight," I heard her say. She was grinning. "Give me the phone, you shouldn't talk and drive," she said, moving around me to grab the phone from my left ear, part of her 108 pounds lingering for seconds after she had secured the phone. I drove and half listened to her end of the conversation. "We can't, we're half way to my house.....won't your wife expect you?.....I left a message for my son to go get it.....I didn't see it." "He wants to know if you got dark?" she asked. I nodded and she returned to Mike and the conversation. "Yes, it's dark....you don't.....he is?" "He says you're estranged, how estranged are you?" she asked me, covering the speaker with one hand. "About 3000 miles," I answered, thinking it was a conveniently safe way of putting it. "He says you always buy dark beer and he doesn't like it." "I know, tell him we're almost there," I said, thinking he would let her end the conversation. She directed me to pull in front of a two car garage which was attached to a small ranch house. It looked neat and well kept but in need of paint. There was a larger building off to the side with two pieces of road building equipment parked in front. Annie handed me the phone and asked me if I would wait until she checked her messages. She was out of the truck, running toward the house before I could answer, the red cloth bobbing along behind her. She had left her bag, again. "Sorry Mike but it doesn't look like I'm going to make it back in time for us to go out, I know how Marian worries when you're on the water after dark," I said, thinking how considerate I was to regard the feelings of his wife. "Don't hang up on me partner, if you're not coming back I want to hear everything that happens," his voice sounded excited. "What makes you think that anything is going to happen?" I asked, trying to think of some gracious way to say goodbye. But I had messed up our fishing plans and he and Marian had gone out of their way to make my stay a pleasant one. I unbuckled my seat belt and turned the ignition key to off. "I've got a feeling about that chick, she sounded sexy as hell, she revealed allot to me," was his retort. 'What had she revealed? It was just like Mike to draw his own conclusions from a brief conversation.' "You're right, she is kind of sexy," I said to taunt his imagination. He wanted to know about the house and its surroundings but soon tired of my description and wanted to get back to Annie. "Is she really cute?" he sounded like his tongue was hanging out. "Remember that girl, Lucy? She dated one of the guys on the second floor in our dorm for awhile when we were in the third year, like that only add 20 years. Skinny legs but a generous butt, no tits to speak of, at least I can't tell because she's wearing a vest thing, mixed blond hair, shoulder length, off blue eyes and even teeth, she's got a nice smile but she's been in the sun too long, forehead is sort of flaking when she wrinkles it. And she does that allot but yeah, she's cute," I ended. "That's not Lucy," my friend laughed in the high pitched voice he uses when he's saying, 'gotcha.' "Mixed blond hair, what's that? And off blue eyes, you're pathetic." "Hey, she coming back out, see you later," I said, getting a view of Annie racing toward me. "Don't you dare hang up," he screamed. "Okay, cool it," I relented, placing the phone on the seat. Annie jumped into the passengers seat, exhilarated. Her hair had been combed and light coating of lipstick had been applied to her otherwise natural face. She had removed the vest and wore a clean white T shirt. "It's all worked out, my son called and said he and a friend have gone to pick up the car. They'll pull it back to a shop here in town. They borrowed one of those tow bar things. I'll have to drive my husband's truck for a couple of days but I've done that before so everything is cool." As she delivered the last part of her message her eyes searched mine. I nodded, gazing back at her. Her eyes were not blue at all, they glistened and she swallowed hard. Slowly and without loosing eye contact, her slight body crawled across the seat and propped itself just above my chest, not touching. One of her hands was on the door armrest and the other one was on the back of the seat for support. The rest of her body extended across the seat with her boots outside the open door. "I want to thank you for seeing me home," she said, there was a slight smile on her lips and I could feel her breath as she spoke. Our faces were three inches apart. My left hand was on the steering wheel and my right arm, which I had moved to make room for her, rested at her waist. I smiled back, thinking I should say something but what, 'you're welcome? can I get your number? have a nice day?' She closed the gap between us to give me a peck on the lips while shifting her weight to move away. I touched her shoulder with my left hand, making her mouth open in a startled way but only for a moment. Her weight dropped against me and my arms surrounded her. There was another peck on the lips, followed by a full open-lips smooch that lasted until we heard the ring of the phone from someplace under Annie. We broke to look at one another, smiled, and then resumed mashing our lips together. "I better answer it, he doesn't want to miss anything," I warned when the persistent caller would not give up. "Let me," she said, searching for my phone which had apparently been shut off by a roving hand or a restless butt while we mixed-it-up. "Say you're Lucy," I told her, without further explanation. Still in my arms Annie hit the answer button, "hello, to whom would you like to speak?" This was delivered in a very sexy voice and was followed by, "I'm afraid Annie isn't here, this is Lucy." She winked at me then dropped her jaw as she listened, "yes.....five foot three....thin, not skinny....yes, I would say it's generous....what?....what?" Then to me, "what's mixed blond? and what's off blue?" She didn't give me time to explain, "what else did he.....he said that?....I won't" Her free hand caught me off guard, her little fist struck my chest several times, then she pinched my cheek, "no tits to speak of, thirty-four, is that what you said?" I couldn't defend myself, I was choking with embracement and nervous laughter. I let her pound away. She soon tired of hitting me and slumped back against me, still holding the phone in her right hand. We laughed together for a full minute, then looked at one another, smiling. Annie moved the phone to the dashboard and returned to my arms to be kissed. "What's happening," Mike's voice brought us out of our tranquil spendor. "What's going on there," he repeated. We remained silent, listening to him pout. "Come on you guys, what's the scene there?" "Well," I said, winking at Annie, "Lucy's got my shoe off and she's playing with my toes." That was the wildest thing I could think of to say. Actually, Annie was nibbling on my left ear. "Not another toe freak," he groaned. "What's so bad about a toe freak? Oh, Paul, your big toe is soooo....it's so big," Annie chimed in, cooing into my ear. She whispered in my ear, "let's really give him a show." "What if someone comes by and sees us?" I asked. There were no houses nearby but at least one car had come along since we had been there. "Right, let's go into the house," Annie said, obviously excited. "Don't forget to take the phone," Mike's voice was urgent, pleading. Annie took her paper bag and the phone and I grabbed the ice chest. I watched the red cloth bounce along in front of me. She held the phone at arms length, "Paul, be careful, don't stub your toe." The small woman was bending over, laughing. Inside, I described the scene to Mike. Couch, two arm chairs, lamp tables, TV and stereo then I tossed the phone on the couch and joined Annie in the kitchen. She mixed herself a drink while I opened a beer. "What's with the toe thing?" she wanted to know. I explained that it was the first thing that came to mind and I didn't know what he was talking about when Mike had said, 'another toe freak.' "Lucy was a girl at our school that resembled you, he may know something about her or imagines he does," I said, shrugging my shoulder. "Well, we'll just have to play it out," Annie said, giving me a let's-get-on-with-it look as she lead me back to the living room and our telephone intruder. "Paul, will you help me take off my boots?" Annie's voice purred seductively as she took a seat next to where the phone rested. Not knowing or caring if she was serious or merely roll playing, I kneeled in front of her and obliged. Noticing the phone next to her left hip, "I mustn't sit on the phone, Lucy doesn't want Mike to miss anything." I rolled up her jeans and began unlacing her boots. Justice Her feet were long and narrow for such a small woman; her toenails had been painted, bright red. "You have such nice toenails, Lucy, can I paint them?" I said while leaning over to the mouthpiece. "That would be nice, can I do yours too?" she purred, leaning forward to run her fingers through my hair. I kicked off my boat shoes, "Can I nibble on you little toe before we paint our nails?" "Sure, nibble away, Lucy would like that," Annie cooed into the phone. "Oh, Lucy, that's nice." "Your big toe is sooo....can I suck your big toe? Annie smiled down at me. I reached up to bring her down for a short kiss. "Only if I can suck yours later," I stammered, then, "Lucy." Mike was saying something but we paid no attention. I lay on my back on the floor and in short gasping breaths, "An...I mean.... Lucy, suck my.....suc.." Annie joined me on the floor, I felt her weight on my chest as our lips came together in a long passionate kiss. Squawking coming from the couch interrupted us. "I'm quite OVERCOME," I shouted to pacify our unwelcome intruder. Annie chimed in, "did you like that?" she asked, her voice dripping with seduction as her body pressed into mine. But the trespasser on the couch would not yield, more babble disturbed our reverie on the floor and that was a good thing. We jumped to our feet when we heard a car pull into the driveway. We watched as it parked behind my truck. Annie took her boots to the bedroom and was soon back, wearing a pair of loafers with no socks. The red cloth still hung from her back pocket. My shoe laces were still untied when a young couple came in. Annie introduced me, "Paul, this is my son, Bobby and that's his friend, Karen." We shook hands and they told us that everything was going to be fine with the car; it had been towed to a nearby garage. I wondered how such a small woman could give birth to this big, strapping kid. "Who's there?" came from the phone. "I'm sorry, Mike, I thought you could hear me introduce my son and his girl friend to Paul," Annie said loudly as she went to pick up my phone. "Would you like to say hello to them?" Of course he would, she handed the phone to Bobby who looked puzzled, "Who's that?" "He'll tell you," Annie said, smiling up at her son. We talked with Karen while Bobby spoke, at length, to Mike. She is a tall girl with nice features and a quiet disposition. We told her of the lengthy telephone conversation and had her laughing by the time Bobby handed her the phone and insisted that she speak to Mike. "He needs to talk to you sir," Bobby told me, "says it's something important." "Okay, thanks Bobby, I'll talk to him on the way home." I said, giving Annie a knowing look. She nodded, grinning. 'Such a nice smile," I thought. "Where're your boots, Mom? And who's Lucy? What's this about a foot fetish?" Annie reddened, not quite knowing what to say. "My friend Mike has a run away imagination and we were just trying to humor him," I explained. "We may have gone too far because apparently, he bought it." Karen, finished her conversation with Mike and came to ask Bobby if he was ready to go. He thanked me for bringing his mother home. As they went out the door my phone rang. "Oh, my God, Karen must have hang up on him?" Annie laughed. I answered the phone and explained to Mike that Karen must have thought the call was over. "What's happening? Did they leave? Say, what were you doing all that time?, I've got to tell you something, is she there?" Mike fired one question after another at me. "Yes, she's right here and I've got to go," I said, hoping he would shut up long enough for me to say goodbye to Annie. The sun was setting and a light rain was coming down when I kissed Annie goodnight. I was glad to have someone to talk to on the ride back to Justice. "Sorry we didn't get to go out," I apologized to Mike for the third time. To my surprise, "I'm not, I wouldn't have missed that for anything." He insisted on my coming by the boat, that he would wait for me. We talked about everything except what was on our minds until I reached the dock. We sat on the boat deck with no shelter from the light rain that, at times, increased and talked more while we finished the six pack. Mike didn't seem to notice that it was dark beer that we were drinking; he was on such a high over the evening we had shared. The urgent news, which he withheld until I arrived at the boat, was that my wife was trying to get in touch with me. In her attempt to reach me she had spoken to Marian who had relayed the news to Mike. My wife was filing for a divorce. "Did you get her number?" Mike ask as we parted. "Get her number? Why, did it change?" I ask, thinking he was speaking of my wife on the other coast. "Annie's number, did you get it? "No, I didn't," I answered honestly. "You idiot, I wanted to meet her," Mike said, totally disgusted with me. I didn't tell him that Annie was not ready to meet him. "Not yet," she had said, "and I don't want to do that 'toe thing' again with him, ever!" "Paul," he said as we reached my truck. I turned. "What's with the red cloth?" "Don't know," I admitted, waving goodnight to a very disturbed man. Nor did I tell him that Annie and I had arranged for me to deliver the beer and cigars to Harmon Way at 5 P.M. the next day, after which we would spend the evening at my cottage on Justice. "With No Mike, No Phone and No Toe Games!" as Annie put it. 'Now that's Justice,' I thought to myself. Justice It was ironic, Jack thought as he lay in the hospital bed, that four months ago he had been given a life term. At 45 years of age, that would have translated into 30 or more years in prison. Now, it appeared that number would be more like four months. He knew he had cancer when he abducted and raped Karen Anderson. And when he left the 18-year old tied to a tree deep in the forest, beaten and dying, he had planned on beating the disease. He had put up with the chemo, and the retching and vomiting that accompanied it, but upon his conviction he decided that the unpleasantness of the treatment wasn't worth it. He chuckled to himself, the laugh sounding like a death rattle as his fluid-filled lungs strained for air. Society had hoped to keep him in prison for a long time, but now he would be free shortly, dead but free. He had the feeling someone was in the room with him and when he opened his eyes, he saw a young lady standing at the foot of his bed. Very nice, he thought to himself. The girl, not more than 20, was dressed in a somewhat conservative dress and had long, blonde hair. He thought for a minute what it would be like fucking her. He always liked the young ones. "What do you want?" he asked/coughed. The young lady smiled at him. "I'm here to get you," she replied. "Where am I going?" Jack asked. He wasn't scheduled for anything. In fact, the morgue would probably be his next stop. "You're going to heaven, Jack," the young lady replied. "I'm here to take you." "You're taking me to heaven? Jack asked. "What are you, an angel or something?" "That's right," she replied. "Where are your wings, angel?" "Common misconception," the angel answered as she walked to the side of Jack's bed. "We appear in a form that is most similar to the beings we are bringing to heaven. For people, it is the human form, without wings of course since there aren't any humans with wings. For animals, we take their form. For beings on the planet Krael, we take the form of a Kraelian." Jack looked at her amused. "You're joking, right?" "No," the angel answered. "Watch this." The angel stood still for a second and then morphed into a cloud of mist, reappearing as a bear. She then morphed again to mist and reappeared as a strange looking figure, 7 feet tall and thin as a stick. A second later she reappeared in human form. "That last one was a Kraelian. Pretty cool, eh?" she said smiling. Jack looked at her convinced that she was what she said she was. "Well, if you are here to take someone to heaven you are probably in the wrong room," he said to her. "No, I'm in the right spot. Jack Berger, age 45, grew up in San Francisco, left high school when you were 14, served in Viet Nam for two tours, almost beat your first wife to death, shot a man in a hold up and hid in a trash bin to escape, kidnapped and raped a girl and left her to die. Are you the right Jack Berger?" "OK, so you got the right guy," Jack replied, "but I don't think I'm going to heaven. More likely I'm going to hell." "Another common misconception," the angel replied. "There is no hell, only heaven." "If I knew that was the case, I would have lived a wilder life," Jack smirked. "Looks like you already did," the angel replied. "So, what do you do, hang around until I die and then fly me to heaven?" They were all the same, the angel thought to herself. "No need to hang around," she replied. "You died ten minutes ago." Jack paused for a minute and then realized she was right. He was no longer struggling to breathe, in fact he wasn't breathing at all. His body, previously wracked with pain, now seemed to float on the bed with no sensation of any feeling. "So now what?" he asked. "Well," the angel explained, "heaven is just an eternity of a specific sensation of your choosing. For example, I just brought a little boy to heaven and his favorite sensation was hugging his dog. He loved the feel of the soft fur and the warmth of the animal's body against his. For eternity, that little boy will experience that sensation. It will never go away and he will never grow tired of it. "A lady I just took to heaven always liked the sensation of biting into a chocolate covered cherry. She loved the scent of the candy, the taste of the chocolate and cherry and the texture of the juice as she bit into the candy. That will be her sensation forever." "So, what's my sensation?" Jack asked. "That's up to you," the angel replied. "what ever you want is what you will get." "Anything?" Jack asked. "Anything" she replied. Jack thought for a minute. "Anything?" he asked again. "No matter what?" "That's correct," the angel replied. "What I want," Jack explained, "is to spend eternity fucking Karen Anderson. She had a hot, tight pussy and she was a virgin." He looked into the angel's eyes looking for a reaction. "That's fine," the angel replied. "Are you ready?" "You're going to let me do that?" Jack asked. "Yes, if that is what you want," she replied. Jack laughed. "Yeah, that's what I want." The angel smiled. "Well, then, it's time to go to heaven. You will start to experience the sensation shortly. Close your eyes and let me take it from here." "Hey, what's your name anyway?" he asked as he closed his eyes. "Justice," the angel replied. "Justice is my name." Jack felt his cock start to stir, getting harder and harder without any stimulation. Next, he felt as if he had turned over and was lying on top of someone and his cock, now fully erect, was sliding into something. He opened his eyes. There underneath him was the rotting corpse of Karen Anderson, the girl he left to die. Dead skin was peeling off her face and maggots crawled from her eyes. Her hair, once long and blonde, hung like coarse straw from her head. Jack gagged at the sight, heaving as if he were vomiting with nothing to throw up. The smell, that of decomposing flesh and blood, burned his nose and throat. All the while, Jack pumped his cock into the dead girl's vagina, a vagina that consisted of nothing but hardened tissues the texture of sandpaper. He tried to pull away yet his desire, his wish for eternal sensation, demanded that he continue forever having sex with Karen Anderson. Justice "I can't believe you would even consider such a thing!" Her voice was angry and disgusted. Andy hadn't seen her look at him that way in all the eleven years of their marriage and he felt a cold chill run through him. Angie went on, cleaning up after their hurried dinner. They had to get ready for the game. Things were certainly not good. Both knew they were growing apart. Marital counseling hadn't helped, but this preoccupation of Andy's wasn't helping either. They hardly made love anymore, and when they did it was more a familiar routine than an experience. It was Andy who first suggested his desire to have a third person with them. In the heat of passion Angie relented so far as to say "That would be nice," and in the moment even verbalized a few fantasies about it. But it was only as she was close to orgasm and she forgot all about it afterward. He was bringing it up over and over again. In the car on the way home from the game, they were in good spirits and Angie was sitting close. They would make love that night, he was certain. His mind began to create a scenario: Angie, himself and 'one other' whom he could not visualize clearly, but it was a man and Angie was engulfed by them both. His voice was low and he choked a little as he spoke. "Let's go to Larry's barn." He put his arm around her shoulders, driving with one hand. "Keep your hands on the wheel," she said, moving a little away from him. Her voice was quiet. "I'm tired hearing about this....and you might as well stop because I'm not going; not now, not tomorrow, and not ever." There was a moment of pause. "You go if you want it so bad!" "They only allow couples," he said quietly. It was silent in the car the rest of the way home. They did not make love that night. Angie and Andy met in graduate school. She was in training as a microbiologist and he in the MBA program at the same university. He was her first lover and their relationship was passionate into the third year of marriage. With both in influential jobs, it was the same old story: too much time at work and no time for one another. Their 'together' time consisted of weekly grocery shopping and one or two trips to buy furniture. No vacations, very few nights out and little contact with mutual friends. They had tried to have children but it didn't work. They were left with just themselves and no visible resources to grow closer together. Both thought of divorce from time to time, but it was too scary an option. Neither of them had divorced parents and, quite frankly, Angie, at least, considered it a sign of poor character, poor upbringing, and a gross embarrassment. It was not something she would ever do. The subject of Larry's barn confounded her. Larry was a business associate of Andy and a 'nice man,' so Angie thought. They were occasional dinner companions on a rare night out and Angie always found Larry and his wife 'good people' and entertaining. When Andy first told his wife about the barn, she was shocked and dismayed. "Whoever told you that was making it up. Laura would never do such a thing!" "Well......she does; they both do, and they love it!" Andy said. "She never said anything to me!" Angie said. "She's had plenty of opportunity." "They know you're a little conservative," Andy said. "They have invited us a couple of times, and I have to keep telling them you wouldn't do it." "I think you're lying! You're making this up and I am going to check this out with Laura," Angie said. Andy went to his study on the second floor and shut the door - a little too forcefully. Angie picked up the phone and made a lunch appointment with Laura for the next day. They met at a downtown cafe‚ that had small round tables for two, nicely set out. Laura was there when Angie arrived and she stood up and waved to greet Angie with a warm handshake and a smile. The two had lunched before several times and each enjoyed the another's company, in this casual way. They exchanged pleasantries and ordered their salads. "What a pleasant surprise!" Laura said. "I was so glad to hear from you!" "It's been a while," Angie said. She lowered her voice. "But I'm afraid I have an agenda," Angie said. Laura looked a little concerned. "Is there something wrong?" she said. "You look wonderful, you know!" "I want to know about the 'barn.' Andy keeps telling me he wants to go to the 'barn.' He tells me such wild stories. I hoped you, of all people, wouldn't know what he was talking about." Laura dropped her head for a moment then looked up and directly at Angie. "I do know," she said, "but I'm not sure this is the place to talk about it." "Well I want to know what's going on!" Angie said. She whispered. "I'm sick and tired of hearing Andy mention it over and over, and I can't believe you're involved with this, if what I've heard is true." Larry built the 'barn,' as they called it, four years ago. It was a separate building, with a barn exterior, constructed in back of their large Victorian house. The held one large space furnished with several long couches and a number of upholstered chairs of various sizes. The floor was covered with luxurious deep pile carpeting. Indirect lighting surrounded the room.In the back were two bathrooms and a kitchenette. One would notice at once that all the windows were clerestory windows, placed high on the walls. In daytime, though well lit, there was a comfortable feeling of seclusion and privacy. At night, it was like entering a cloistered, safe place. The furnishings and decor were elegant and soft spoken. "I don't know what Andy told you," Laura said. "We don't speak about it. It is a place we maintain for our special friends to gather together and enjoy one another." "You mean sexually!" Angie said. "That as well," Laura said. "I can't believe you do that!" Angie said. "How can you do that!" "I can't say I took to the idea easily," Laura said. "Larry and I both got into it slowly, but it did so much for us it was easy to go on from there. I have to say it's become a very important part of our life." "It sounds unsanitary!" Angie said. "I can't begin to imagine it." "I can understand that," Laura said. "We never pressure anyone. We have to know people pretty well before we suggest joining us. You and Andy have been good friends over the years and we wanted to include you if you were willing." She paused. "We're both fond of you and Andy." She paused again. "It will be all right if you don't want a part of this and I know you will keep it to yourself." Angie felt a little sick. She had a hard time looking at Laura and no appetite for the rest of her lunch. She stood up, gathered her things and nodded goodbye to Laura. She put a twenty dollar bill on the table and left without a further word. The walk back to work was difficult. She felt betrayed and very much alone. At home, Andy and Angie had dinner together. Both sat there in silence. Angie looked up after a while and said, "I had lunch with Laura today." "What for," Andy said. He did not look up. Angie said nothing for a moment or two. "I asked her about the barn." Andy sat up in his chair. "So......?" he said, trying to be casual. "It's disgusting!" Angie said, and began to clear the table. They spent the night in separate rooms. They spent the next three days avoiding one another as best they could. On Thursday morning, they met in the upstairs hall way, Angie in her bathrobe, Andy fully dressed for work. They were only a foot apart. He could smell her bath oil, and a few strands of her hair brushed his arm. Andy leaned a little closer and caught Angie's eye and she began to sob as she moved quickly away from him. Both were in a semi-trance the rest of the day, upset, in turmoil, filled with dread for what may lie ahead for them, afraid of going home at the end of the day. It seemed there was no future. Andy got home first. He was in his second floor study and began reading through a 'sex book.' Angie came into his room a half hour later and simply said "I'll go." She saw Andy's flushed cheeks and the book he was reading and she left the room as quietly as she had entered. They didn't speak the remainder of the evening or the next morning. When Andy arrived home Friday night, Angie was sitting in the living room watching the evening news on television. She was dressed to go out: a black dress with a high collar that zipped up the back, shoes to match and looked ready to attend a funeral. She wore no makeup. The only incongruous thing was that her light brown hair, usually worn in a bun, was loose and hanging to her waste. She just glanced at him. He was nervous, she thought. "We're going to be late," she said quietly. Andy went upstairs and returned later after having taken a shower and put on slacks and a summer shirt. They were ready. The car ride was heavy with silence once again. Angie looked out the side window the entire way. Lights were on at the barn and six cars were parked in the driveway. As they walked to the door, Andy took Angie's arm but she shrugged him away and kept walking. They were greeted at the door by Laura, dressed in a modest evening gown. "I'm really glad you're here," she said, and took Angie's light wrap to hang up inside the door. As Angie looked around she counted fourteen people in all; nice looking people, she thought. They were all chatting comfortably with one another, drinks in hand, and moving about the room to greet this friend and that, smiling at Angie and at Andy with warmth and welcome. Angie felt a momentary relief and kissed Larry lightly on the cheek as he asked what he could get her to drink. Laura took the couple around the room to make introductions. It was all very typical except one man who commented on Angie's hair. Her anxiety rose once again and she remembered what was supposed to happen here. Andy, a bit awkwardly, stayed by her side for the most part, moving a short distance away from time to time to speak with one of the men, never with one of the women. Angie kept her eyes on the women and never looked directly at any of the men, some of whom seemed overly interested in her. She found a seat in one of the upholstered chairs and focused on her drink. She was ready to go home. She heard Laura's voice. "Angie, come over here and sit with Carlos and me. You two have something in common." Angie went over and sat on the couch beside Laura. "Carlos is a statistician with a research group at the university," Laura said. "I'm surprised you two haven't already met." Carlos shook Angie's hand gently across Laura's lap. "I'm glad to meet you, Angie." It was a warm hand and a tender hand. Angie raised her eyes to look at him briefly, and let herself smile at him for a second. Laura led the conversation, telling each what she knew about the other. After ten minutes or so, she excused herself. "I have to play hostess for a while," she said. "Please continue without me." Angie and Carlos talked. They did have common interests, it seemed, and as the conversation became more involved Angie quite forgot where she was. She was not aware that the lights were slowly growing dimmer. She did not think about Andy. She was interested in the experiment Carlos was describing. They talked in animated fashion for about half an hour. And then there was a pause. As she looked up, it hit her like a sledge hammer! A woman was sitting in the chair Angie had vacated. She was naked to the waste. A man was standing behind the chair, kissing her neck and kneading her breasts with his hands. The woman's eyes were closed and she was moaning softly. But all around the room, as Angie looked in fright, there were other such scenes. On a couch another woman was riding up and down on a man, both completely naked, making small moans. It seemed that she and Carlos were the only ones not so engaged. But where was Andy? She saw him standing at the far end of the room, a woman at his cock. His eyes were closed and his fists were clenched. Angie panicked and felt faint and sank back into the couch and closed her eyes. Carlos didn't move, but watched the couples directly in front of him. His face showed interest but it was relaxed. The room lights were now rather dim, but his eyes had adjusted. The room began to smell of sex and the talking had stopped. Angie opened her eyes and allowed herself to watch the couple on the chair. They were now undressed and the man was on the floor between the woman's legs. It was getting to her. Angie felt wet. It was a nice feeling, even through her fright, and each time she looked her gaze lingered longer and longer. Carlos moved closer so that their shoulders touched. Angie did not budge. She felt her heart pounding. Carlos took his hand and pushed her slightly forward on the couch and released her hair from the back, gently moving it along her shoulder and down her arm next to him. Be began stroking it very lightly and very slowly. Angie's eyes were fixed straight ahead. He then let his finger roam over her shoulder and, so slowly, over her throat and the outside of her breast, then back up again. Angie was now aware of him and let it happen. She was aroused and what he was doing was all right. She wasn't prepared for the kiss. He pressed his lips to hers briefly, then parted, then pressed again, each time lingering longer until Angie pushed her lips into his and tasted him, her head now firmly back against the couch. He moved his hand to her left breast and cupped it. Angie felt her fever rise and she put her arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. It seemed to her it couldn't be easier. It was warm, close and tender. It was exciting. Right now there was only Carlos. He moved her forward once again and pulled down the zipper at the back of her dress. He undid the coupling of her bra then pulled them both down from her shoulders, taking care to position himself in front of her, as though to hide her from the room. As Angie let out a muffled sigh, he played with both nipples. He pulled them straight out gently, then he twirled them between his fingers, and he kissed her mouth again and again. They explored each other's mouth and tongues. Carlos pulled down his zipper to release his cock, then took Angie's hand and placed it there and she was lost. She squeezed it and kneaded it and ran her finger up and down, exploring what she couldn't see. It was new and hard and soft in her fingers and she was on fire. Carlos sat back, loosened his belt and pushed his trousers and briefs to the floor. He reached across Angie and took her right arm and pulled her on top of him. He kissed her breasts all over and sucked on her nipples, pulling them with his lips. His hand moved under her dress, pulling it up to her waste. His hand pulled aside her panties and he positioned her over his cock. She sank down on it slowly until it was fully inside her. They rested just like that without moving for an eternity. Then she took him. She pushed to the left and the right, up and down until she found the right rhythm. Carlos held her tits high, massaging and kissing them alternately, then moved his ass to meet her motion and they were alone together and at one with each other. As Angie felt herself getting close, she slowed down. She was breathing hard, watching Carlos' eyes, kissing him occasionally and then she came hard and suddenly, without warning and sunk into his lap to tremble in the warmth of his arms. She felt Carlos begin to push up against her and was aware that it was his time. She began her motion again, pulling almost all the way out then dropping quickly to take him all in. Over and over again, still faster and faster until the sweat showed on his brow and his hands tightened around her tits. She watched his breathing and waited for the sign she knew so well. At just the right moment she slowed her movements to a near halt and ushered him into orgasm, thrashing her body about with his. He tried to withdraw but she held him in as he came inside her. She felt him fill her full, threw her arms around his neck and locked her mouth to his ..... for a long time. As she drew back her head, she saw Andy standing behind the couch with his cock in his hand, rubbing furiously to orgasm. He has seen most of it, she thought. As he came, Andy cupped his hands over his cock to catch the cum, and slowly backed away until he disappeared from her vision. Carlos lowered her to the couch on her back and moved away to the far side of the couch. Angie felt suddenly cold. She gathered her hair and tossed it back over the arm of the couch and crossed her hands over her chest. Then her legs were parted and someone was on top of her with his cock between her legs. It was warmth again. She opened her eyes to see a man looking at her with desire. His aspect was so compelling she opened her legs to invite him in. He pinned her arms over her head, licked her nipples a few times and entered her. It was a large cock and it pushed against the walls of her vagina as he entered deeper and deeper. She let him set the pace and just relaxed to enjoy the feeling. It was slow and methodical. She pulled her arms free and played with her tits. She pulled her nipples and slapped them gently. She moved her hips in time to the thrusting and it brought her close to a peak again. He seemed to sense her state and slowed his pace to hold her on the brink. Angie felt the pull on her hair as another man used it to bury and stroke his cock. It was all right, she thought. It was certainly all right, and she let out a loud moan as she climaxed again, saying "Yes...., yes...., yes, my god, yes!" so all could hear. When he withdrew, someone placed a light blanket over her to keep her warm. She shut her eyes and listened to the moans around the room. She pulled her knees up, turned her face to the back of the couch and fell sound asleep. On the way home in the car, Andy didn't have much to say. He spoke briefly about plans for Saturday. Angie looked out the window again, replying with an occasional "Uh, huh." She had her legs up on the seat in a near fetal position, her arms wrapped around them. She was feeling peaceful. When they were in bed, Andy moved over her and put his hard cock into her. No foreplay, no teasing, no words. Angie wrapped her legs around him and pulled him tight. When it was over, she turned on her side, away from him and whispered "Thank you." As the new week went on, Andy pondered the meaning of 'Thank you.' Was it for fucking her at home or for taking her to the barn? They kissed a lot that week. They made love three nights and Angie was into it! She teased him with her body; she sucked his cock; she leaned over him and bathed him with her long hair, drawing it up and down his body. She took his cock, covered it with her hair and with rubbed the length of him furiously between her hair covered hands until he screamed. She stopped him in the hall Wednesday morning and sucked him until he came in her mouth. She was cheery and accommodating. She dressed only after Andy left in the morning and she put on her robe as soon as he returned. She was perpetually available. Andy enjoyed the attention and fucked in earnest but he was scared. The meaning of 'Thank you' was clarified somewhat when he came home Friday night and found Angie again in the living room waiting, but this time in a sweater and shorts. The sweater gave clear notice that there was no bra behind it. "Ready?" she said. "For what?" he said. "The barn." "Not tonight," he said. "I've had a bad day." "Then you won't mind if I go," she said. Andy felt his legs weaken. "What's this!" he said. "Last week you were angry about it and now you want to go?" "I got the message," she said. "I want to go again." "Not without me!" he said. "Then get ready. We're late! I have plans." Justice In the car, after a period of silence, Andy turned to her and said, "What's this all about?! Are you in love with Carlos!" "I'm not in love with Carlos but I want to make love with Carlos. You know, I've been thinking about this. Last week three men - four counting you - got off on my body. I've never had anyone but you. I really liked it, now that I think about it." Andy's jaw was clenched tight. He looked straight ahead. "I got curious, I'll admit," she said. "I spent some time on the Internet this week looking around. I saw pictures of things I hadn't even imagined could happen. It looks interesting and I want to try some of them. I'll need more than one person to do it." Her voice was matter-of-fact. "You mean I'm not enough for you?" "Hey! This was your idea. Remember?!" Andy was angry. "I didn't want it to take over our whole life," he said. "I didn't want you to go crazy!" "I'm not going crazy. I just want to explore some things," she said. "This isn't good," Andy said. "I don't like where this is going." She turned to him and smiled. "It's going to the barn," she said. "I have to thank you for opening my eyes. I feel like I've been dead between the legs too long. Last week was a revelation to me. I hope we can enjoy this together." She tried to snuggle up against him but he pulled away. Silence. "Did you find somebody?" she said. "I watched you," he said. "I saw you being sucked off by some woman," she said. "I saw you masturbating over me and Carlos. Did you like that?" Silence. "Come on!" she said. "You got off on it!" Silence. "You got off watching me fucked by another man. Isn't that what you always wanted?" Silence. "You know, the problem is .... you're not calling the shots here now. Well, I can tell you, this is now a 50/50 thing as far as I'm concerned. I want to include you. I want to help you with your fantasies. Let's do this together so we both have fun, but if I have to I'll do it alone. Laura will let me in without you, I'm sure.....especially after last week." Silence. Andy looked straight ahead. "I'll try it as long as it stays in control." "Whose control? Yours or ours?" There was no reply. "I can't believe how easy it was," she said. "I never would have thought it would be that easy." That night at the barn set the pattern. Angie was going to do what she wanted to do. Week after week she orchestrated her curiosity. She had Laurie lick her cunt. She was on her hands and knees with a cock in her mouth and one in her pussy. (She liked using those words now. They said it best!) She had three men stand in a row and she sucked them all off. She went around the room brushing her large tits against everyone in greeting. She came up behind seated men and threw her hair over their faces and teased their cocks with it. She sucked on a woman's nipples for the first time and tasted her juices. There was no reserve and the rest of those present reveled in her enthusiasm and sexual energy. She was like a breath of fresh air. She looked on the Internet for more ideas and each week at the barn she appeared in different clothing. She cut openings so her nipples would show through and she would invite everyone to pinch them. Her inventiveness spread to the other women as well. The group became more and more united and compassionate. They were becoming one body, one mind. It was Angie who did it. But there was no Andy. Justice It was All Hallows' Eve, and the middle-aged man had just sat down for his evening meal, as he had for several weeks now, quite alone. His beloved and beautiful wife, Evelyn, had taken quite ill recently and had been unable to come down to supper. She was, in fact, so weak that she was unable to rise from her bed for more than a few minutes a day. The 'Judge' - as everyone called him, even though he had since left the bench to return to private practice - had made her as comfortable as he could, making frequent runs from their house, a quiet Tudor-style home, the last house on the block on Cemetery Hill, to the apothecary shop in the village for various medicinal herbs and concoctions. His wife placed little trust in modern medicine. And so her devoted husband did his best, placing cool compresses on her forehead and mixing various home remedies, but to his great distress, her condition simply would not improve. He was well prepared, however, for all the trick-or-treaters who might come to call later on this evening. He had jars of chocolate M & Ms, Snickers, Red Twisters, and even a few individually wrapped pieces of Godiva chocolate. He smiled to himself as he thought that he'd give those away last, assuming that he ran out of the others. And if he didn't run out, well - then he'd just have to eat that chocolate himself, even if Evelyn wouldn't approve. Just as the Judge poured himself a full glass of a pleasant Napa Valley Merlot, then tilted the crystal glass at a sharp angle to appreciate the dark rose color as it caught the last few rays of the setting sun, the doorbell gave a sharp ring. Beyond the hallway to the front door, he could make out the muffled sounds of giggling and laughter. The man frowned, looked up at the dining room grandfather clock, which was just beginning to chime the quarter hour, and saw that it was just 5:15. "My goodness," he said to himself, "they are starting early this year." Only two female callers were at the door - a tall dark-eyed brunette and her shorter dirty-blonde companion, both in outlandish outfits that were quite revealing, even for Halloween. "Aren't you girls getting a little old for this kid's stuff?" asked the man, as he glanced down at the ample neckline of the taller of the two, and the exposed milky-white thighs of the second one. "I'm a witch, and she's an evil spirit," burbled the brunette, between long, languid licks on a bright red tootsie-pop, "So you have to give us a treat, or we'll cast a spell on you." "I suppose so," said the Judge warily, trying to get a better look at the duo in the gathering darkness. "You both look familiar. I have a feeling I've seen you before." "Oh shit, I really have to go pee," gasped the one dressed as a spirit. "I gotta use your bathroom. It'll just be a sec, ok?" "Well, I..." the Judge started to say, but before he could give consent or refusal, the costumed spirit darted into the hallway, dropped her trick-or-treat bag with a thud, started one way, then reversed course and correctly found the guest powder-room. "And could I have a drink of water, please?" the one dressed as a witch asked, with a disarming but slightly off-kilter smile. The man, not quite knowing what to do, simply nodded and pointed toward the kitchen. The made-up witch slid past him into the hallway, trick-or-treat bag and all, then into the kitchen. "I'll get it myself," he heard her say. The man looked a bit perplexed, but shrugged his shoulders and, as an afterthought, looked outside, up and down the street. There was no sign of any other trick-or-treaters, which was hardly surprising, since it was at least a half an hour until sunset. The man closed the door and ambled into his spacious living room, turned on several lights, poked the now-blazing cedar logs in the fireplace, and sat down on the chocolate-colored sofa to wait for the strange pair of visitors to finish up. As he rested, his mind wandered back to his days on the criminal bench, where he was, indeed, a very well respected jurist, highly regarded by both prosecutors and defense attorneys alike. The Judge was invariably courteous to counsel and witnesses, and scrupulously fair to every defendant who appeared before him. The daily grind, however, had proven too much. The Judge shook his head at the unpleasant memories. Guilt or innocence did not seem to matter to either the attorneys or those in administration. The 'System' just had to grind forward, he thought with sarcasm, regardless of 'petty' issues such as truth, honesty, or fair play. "Where was Justice?" thought the Judge. She was not only blind, he thought, but deaf and dumb besides. The Judge's reverie was rudely interrupted as the two visitors abruptly appeared before him, still wearing their bizarre costumes and make-up, but now, in the glare of the well-lit living room, it became abundantly clear that the visitors were not youngsters, in any sense of the word. "Recognize us now, Your Honor?" said the made-up witch, with a sassy emphasis on the last word that made it sound like 'on-her'. Before the Judge could answer, the spirit-girl spoke up. "How about now?" the little blonde said, licking her crimson lips lasciviously as she reached down with her right hand and popped her left breast out of her bra. As she pinched her pink nipple hard then rolled her eyes back in her head, her tongue lolled out and she made grotesque choking sounds. "That ring a bell?" she said, ending her pantomime with a mocking smile, but leaving one heavy breast still fully exposed, while her friend, the ersatz witch, laughed and stuck her tongue out, revealed a silver stud ring. "Oh, God," the Judge murmured as his memory began to flash pictures from the past. "You, the Witch - you were Crystal Miller; and your friend the Evil Spirit - was Meredith Jones, but you called yourselves 'Crystal and Meth, the Sisters of Death,' didn't you? "You're not real sisters," he continued, "But a couple of sickos, peddling hard drugs to minors, and luring teens and runaways into performing in sadistic porn flicks. Those kids thought they were going to be Hollywood stars, but one by one, they turned up dead." The Judge paused. "Yes, I remember you." "What do you know, you pathetic old fuck?" snarled Meth, the half-naked evil spirit. "So what if a few fucked-up teenies got too stoned for their own good? They were sluts and nuts, and some of them threatened to rat on us. So, we got rid of them, permanently. Who gives a fuck what happened to them?" "They were just kids - sure - a little mixed-up, but they could have been helped. Instead, you drugged them, and used them for your own purposes and then took them for a swim when they were drunk or stoned. Or you just put a pillow over their faces when they slept. "The evidence was overwhelming," he continued, "But somehow - it made me sick when I heard the foreman announce it - somehow there was one holdout juror, so it was a hung jury and pending a retrial, you were released on bail." "Yeah," Crystal chimed in, "We're still out, but we don't want to go through that shit again, so we need your help." The Judge sneered. "You're crazy. I'll never help you. I saw the evidence." "That's right," sniggered Meth. "You saw the evidence - the movies we made - didn't you? I'll bet you watched those porn flicks over and over again. Did you jerk off in your chambers watching their every little flicker on the screen?" "Or did that little hottie court reporter come in, lift up that black robe and give you a sloppy blow job while you both watched our dirty movies? She probably sucked your cock way better than that hag you're married to, eh?" The man winced at this crude and lewd reference to his beloved and beautiful wife of so many years. He was about to reach for the telephone to call the police when Meth took a red plastic container out of her Halloween bag and held it up high. "Know what this is?" she taunted. The Judge recognized it as a gasoline container. Before he could even answer, Meth unscrewed the cap and splashed the highly flammable liquid around the room. Then Crystal pulled out her cigarette lighter and was about to snap it open. The Judge felt stunned by her actions, and was for the moment speechless. "Don't," he finally said, putting his hand out as if to stop an unseen force of evil. "Please, this house will go up in flames in a second and..." here he grew pale, "And my wife, she's upstairs, bedridden. I can't make it up there and down again, with her in my arms, soon enough to..." Meth laughed with scorn. "That's right, you pathetic old fuck. She'll slow you down and you'll both be roasted alive. So, don't even try. Just do what we say, and shut the fuck up." The two intruders yanked out the phone lines. They tore off the man's shirt and tied his hands behind his back, and after stripping him naked, they ordered him to sit still on the chocolate sofa, warning him not to move or even try to make a sound. He was about to protest, but thought better of it as they took out brushes and cans of paint and marred the hardwood with their odd objects: bones and brickbats, animal hooves and tails, signs of the zodiac and other ancient mystical designs. The Judge had no option but to do what he was told. He watched in horror as they began to draw a large pentagram that covered nearly the entire floor. Then the two mischief-makers stripped naked and splashed blood-red paint over their sweating breasts as they tilted back their heads and roared with laughter. Next, they dripped the paint down to their legs and thighs and onto their clean-shaven vulvas. They began to dance and writhe in an erotic pagan-like ritual, mouthing words and canticles from a musty tome written in an ancient language, and splashing the paint in nasty blotches around the floor and the entrance to the front hall. Finally, Crystal the Witch danced lasciviously in front of the man, ordering him not to look away. Pressing herself against him, she slipped her witch's broom between her thighs, fucking her dripping cunt, slowly at first, then faster and faster, in and out, until - against his wishes - it soon became all too obvious that the man was unable to contain his excitement as his cock grew hard and straight, throbbing with lust. This was exactly what the little witch wanted. Crystal smiled at the stiff swollen cock before her and slowly began to lower herself so that her sweating thighs slid down over his. As her parted pussy lips finally found their target, she fucked that big stiff cock, and fucked it hard, in and out, over and over, and groaned in ecstatic delight as her thighs shone with mixed sweat and cunt cum. Meth, who was from time to time snapping photos from a distance with her cell phone, was not to be outdone in terms of pornographic play. "Look at what I've got here, Judge," cooed Meth, as she sat on a sofa across from the Judge, spreading her legs wide and slowly finger-fucking her clean-shaven cunt with her forefinger, then licking the cum off with her tart pink tongue. After she licked the salty pussy juice off her fingers and smacked her lips, with a mocking smile at the Judge, Meth started to fuck herself all over again, taking pleasure in the fact that the Judge tried to avert his eyes from the lascivious act. In the end, he could not resist a few long languid glances and an involuntary stirring in his loins. "Hot little cunt, isn't she?" said Crystal. "And I ought to know. I wouldn't mind licking that soaking wet twat myself, but right now, I've got better things to do." The Judge tried to turn away and close his eyes, but Crystal grabbed his head and jerked it hard, then rubbed her heavy tits over his face. "Feel me, baby - and remember to do what you are told, or else." Then Crystal slid down his body and licked his hard quivering cock with her slithering snake-like tongue, finding the little hole in the head, lathering it, making the shaft quiver, and then taking the whole, thick pulsating shaft into her wide sensuous mouth once again. Crystal worked that cock over, deep-throating it again and again, working it up and down until finally the Judge could hold it in no longer, and with a groan, he shot a huge load of white spunk all over the girl's smiling face, watching it drip down her chin and onto her pointy hard nipples. The cam phone went click - click - click in Meth's hands. "Why - why are you doing this to me?" the Judge asked, exhausted and spent. "Us? Why, we're not doing anything to you! It's you that have made us do this, you filthy fucking pervert." With a groan, the Judge realized what was happening. It was a set-up. The girls would 'escape' with vivid photos of the Judge in his own home, replete with fuzzy images that made him look like the head of a witch's coven. It would appear as if the old man was, indeed, a deranged abuser who had forced these young girls into dancing naked, and then fucking them and making them suck his cock until he humiliated them with what they would call his 'sexually perverted' ways. Then, they would get some sleazy lawyer (and there were plenty of them) to appear with 'new evidence' to blame everything they ever did on him! If they succeeded, they would be completely free to prey upon other wayward young girls. This was sheer horror. "I almost forgot," said Crystal, as she withdrew yet one more shining object from her bag. "This is supposed to be the real thing. It's very rare, and I only got it by chance, from that crazy old bitch who was in the slammer with me." The Judge stared at the strange shape in wonder and amazement. It was a sparkling cut-glass equilateral triangle, as large as egg, suspended by a foot-long slender thread of woven silver and gold. "It's supposed to have real powers, you know," said Crystal, as she swung the sparkling object in an arc in the middle of the rudely drawn pentagram on the floor. "Chant the incantation with me, Meth," said Crystal. "You know, the one the old crone gave me before she croaked. Come on, say it." "That old cunt! She kept insisting that she was a real witch - as if! She was fucking nuts. Let's just torch this fucking place and get out. We've got all the photos we want already. Let's fucking blow." "No, you bitch," growled Crystal. "Do the fucking chant. It's cool... it's fucking evil... I want to see this bastard and his little piggy wife roast, but I want to put a 'spell' on him first to make sure he doesn't escape. The old crone said it would work if we drew the pentagram, put out all those objects, twirled the triangle, and then did the chant. So let's fucking do it." Meth shrugged her shoulders and took out the wrinkled piece of paper that the old crone had written on. Together, Crystal and Meth mouthed the ancient rhymes while they twirled the triangle and danced naked in the center of the pentagram. "O Dominus Hades..." the chant began, the two singing in unison the first verse. There was a moment of silence as Meth moved her finger to the first word of the second verse and Crystal glanced over at the Judge with a mixture of scorn and triumph. Then came the sound of the second verse, in a sing-song tone. "In Nomine Mephistopheles..." "Not yet," snapped Crystal, "wait until I'm ready." "I didn't say anything," said Meth. "Then who the fuck...?" Crystal stopped, and stared up at the top of the stairs. Descending the stairs, very slowly, was an old grey-haired woman, stooped and frail, feeble and shaking, placing one foot before another in a very deliberate manner. "My dear," exclaimed the Judge, "You shouldn't exert yourself." "Look! It's his wife - that dried up old cunt!" Meth yelled and roared with laughter at the elderly woman's difficulty in walking. At a few moments, however, Meth's laughter died on her lips. Something was wrong. With every step, the old lady perceptibly grew stronger, healthier, and more erect in posture. Her hair turned from white, to gray, to raven black and her wrinkled skin became smooth and fair. "That triangle," said the Judge's wife, as she continued to gain strength at every step, "It's the one thing I needed to complete the incantation. I can't thank you enough, girls." "Ah, Evelyn," smiled the Judge, as his eyebrows shot up in surprise and admiration, "I see that you are looking like your old self again." In fact, it was not just his eyebrows that were on the rise. Sure enough, by the time she reached the bottom, the Judge's wife stood before the assembled group - a statuesque beauty, with radiant skin and a flawless figure. To all eyes, this was a woman in the bloom of youth, surely no older than twenty-one or twenty-two, and her quick glance at her naked husband's stiff dick revealed her intention to take full advantage of that situation, as soon as she took care of some unfinished business. "Funny," said Evelyn as she now turned to Crystal, "That you would come dressed as a witch. Really, how ironic." Crystal was backing away now, looking for the nearest exit. "And that silly outfit," continued Evelyn, "With the conical hat and the big warty nose. Oh, please! Even a little tramp like you could have done better than that." The last rays of the sun, just then, disappeared from the hills outside the house. "Oh good," said Evelyn as she clapped her hands. "It's now officially All Hallows Eve. Now the trial can begin." "Trial?" gasped Crystal and Meth, in unison. "Well, the last trial ended with a hung jury, but rest assured; on this special night, we can convene a new jury, one that cannot be bought or intimidated. Now that it's sundown and things are just 'opening up', so to speak, I have some 'grave' news for you girls. Look over there, out the window." The two girls swiveled their heads toward the living room window and blanched as they looked up Cemetery Hill. Even in the dark of night, the full moon lit up the nearby graveyard and the girls now saw gravestones beginning to move back, and the mounds of earth beneath them began to yawn and gape open. Will-o-the-wisp spectral shapes of purest white appeared to rise from the cold earth - the skeletal shapes of those who were once alive, and once human. They were now forming into more solid shapes, first hovering over the upturned mounds of earth and then slowly making their way down Cemetery Hill toward the two women who now felt certain that a final judgment awaited them. "Do you see your jury?" asked the Judge's wife, pointing toward the Hill. "Do you see the spirits of those who have died unjustly at the hands of others? Now, on this one night of the year, it is their turn to render a verdict. They will not be tempted or turned by either threats or promises of earthy rewards. What's more, their verdict will be final, without appeal." The make-believe witch and the evil spirit turned and bolted for the living room door. But, to their dismay, Evelyn had merely to stretch out her arm and give a quick nod. With that, the door's bolt snapped firmly into place all by itself, and nothing the girls could do would cause the door to open to them. The would-be pranksters turned to face each other and, as if in accordance with some grim choreograph, each immediately pointed to the other. "She's the one," Crystal said accusingly. "She killed them; I was just the lookout." Meth's eyes widened in disbelief as the girl spat out her own accusation. "You cunt! How can you fucking even say that? I did my share, but I saw you drown at least one, suffocate another, and slit the throat of still another." Meth turned imploringly to Evelyn as she pointed her long slender arm toward Crystal. "She's the evil one - she's the one who deserves to die." Justice "Liar!" screamed Crystal as she lunged at Meth and grabbed her by the hair, yanking hard. Meth fell to her knees, stunned by the violent move and crying out in pain. "I'll show you who's fucking evil!" screeched Crystal, searching for something, anything, that she could use to strike at her companion. Then Crystal's eyes lighted on the fireplace, and the heavy poker that stood nearby. In a flash Crystal's right hand grasped the handle of the poker and raised it above her head. "No!" yelled both the Judge and his wife, Evelyn, in unison. Too late, the heavy leaden rod crashed down on Meth's skull with lethal force, not once, but twice, and thrice, and then once again, for good measure. The screams and cries for mercy from the one who called herself an 'evil spirit' rebounded in a grim echo throughout the foyer of the home, but quickly died away, as did the little life left in Meth herself. The crimson pool of blood from the crushed skull of Crystal's former companion now seeped slowly onto the hardwood floor near the front door of the house. It joined the paint-splotched red areas around the pentagram as if part of a grim and grisly Rorschach inkblot. Crystal dropped the poker, collapsed exhausted next to the body of her latest victim, and then looked around in fear and wonderment. "Are the ghosts - the specters from the graves - are they coming for me?" "Whatever are you talking about, my dear?" asked Evelyn, waving her hand toward the window. "There's nothing there but a quiet graveyard. Ghosts, indeed. What an imagination." As the judge rose from the couch, his bonds fell to the floor. Dazed, he rubbed his wrists for a moment, then dressed himself and moved next to his wife as she coolly erased all photos from the dead girl's cell phone. He watched as she tossed it into the roaring fireplace where it snapped, crackled and popped into a glob of messy plastic goo. Evelyn then pulled her own cell phone from her purse and dialed the police. "Something awful has happened here," she intoned coolly. "A break-in by two vicious criminals. Yes, we are ok, but you'd better send an ambulance and a squad car, as soon as you can. We're at 666 Cemetery Hill." "This isn't fair," barked Crystal as Evelyn hung up the phone. "It's not right," the girl whined. "You set me up for this whole thing. I don't deserve this. Isn't there any justice?" "Oh, I think you are going to get it, my dear. I think finally, you will see justice." Slowly the Judge's wife began to change once again, with every passing second seeming to age Evelyn at least a month, and then, a year. At last, she appeared as she had when she first stood at the top of the stairs. "Who would think," asked the grey-haired woman, "that my poor husband, or a sickly old woman like me could force you to do anything? You can tell any story you'd like, but the only evidence here shows you next to a dead body, with your fingerprints all over the murder weapon." Crystal slumped, and stared straight ahead with unseeing eyes as the sirens sounded in the distance. As the police handcuffed her and led her out to the squad car, she craned her neck and strained to look up the hill where she saw (didn't she?) those opened graves and spectral figures. The headstones, solitary sentinels of the spirit world, seemed undisturbed and unmoved. There was nothing to see as the squad car sped away, followed by the ambulance carrying her evil sister. Evelyn moved closer to her husband and once again, and her face and figure began to change. Soon, the beautiful voluptuous woman who had stood at the foot of the stairs was now standing before her husband, slowly removing her blouse, bra, dress and panties until she stood fully naked before him. "Are you alright?" she asked, "We do have some unfinished business to attend to." The Judge smiled as he caressed his wife's large firm breasts and watched her sink to her knees, responding to her fingers moving inside his pants and undoing his zipper, and finally feeling the warm wetness of her mouth engulfing his throbbing manhood. He pushed her head down and began to fuck that lovely mouth with ever-increasing urgency, thrusting in and out as she sucked his hard cock like the practiced cock-sucker she was and had been for well over two centuries. Finally, with a wicked thrust, he shot his load all over her face, and watched it drip down to her chin, then pool on her pointed breasts and hardened nipples. "You are beautiful, my sweet, and you never looked prettier." Evelyn smiled up at her happy husband and slowly licked his cum from her lips. "But this house is a mess," said the Judge. "What shall we do?" "Better just sell it," replied Evelyn. "I think it's haunted." * Justice is a Halloween Contest entry. Please take a moment to vote.