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Eventualities: Allison Ch. 01

By: Stultus



A Love in Lovett County Story #3
Synopsis: A man loves and nearly loses forever the woman that makes his life complete, but in the struggle to regain her will everything else be lost in the process? It is primarily a story of love and unusual relationships, and there is a good deal of sex, but probably no 'scary codes'. It starts fairly slow and the first two chapters are a bit sad. 


Codes: MF, FF, slow, tears, rom, 1st, drug/alcohol, cheat, oral, anal, body modification, exhibition


Sex: Much Sex


Posted: 2007-07-06 to 16; Revised: 2009-11-06)

**********

Thanks to my original Editors: Zaffen, Gandalf4217 & FuzzyWuzzy, and to Dragonsweb and Sue for their additional efforts

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While I save most of my chatting for my Blog page on SOL, I thought a few words before this story would be helpful. I started writing this story about four years ago and while the 'Romantic' element of this story is still very strong, there is a good deal of complicated sexual behavior between two or more consenting adults in a far-off semi-magical reality that has never heard of AIDS or other "unsafe" sex practices.

This story was originally intended a long time ago to be a slightly odd and short 'Cheating/Slut Wife story' very much in the inspiration of the stories of DG Hear, Harddaysknight, Just Plain Bob & The Wanderer. Ten pages ideally, maybe twenty at most... and Allison was supposed to die at the end, a victim of her alcohol dependency. Instead, for some reason I couldn't kill her off when I was supposed to. The story soon ended up being about 100 pages long and even then it was only really half-done. It was also far more of a stroke story than its intended romantic plot. It also didn't work – even as a 'stroke story'. I set the story aside for awhile until I could figure out how to fix it.

I started to attempt to revise it once again about two years ago. I trimmed out most of the sex scenes and changing the story's focus dramatically. Somewhere around the new page 40, the idea of "Lovett County" started to germinate in my head and the new plotline once again shifted subtly towards this new vision. Warts and all (and there are many), this story is a central introduction for several future major characters in Lovett County and a few of the main plotlines.

Technically, this is the 'first' Lovett County story, despite the fact that several other stories that were written much later have been posted to SoL before this one. This story was meant to be the start of Lovett, but there was no major harm done by delaying it to become Lovett #3. Better late than never.

This has been the single most edited and re-written story I have ever attempted, and in some moods this story was nearly deleted entirely. Grudgingly I've decided to 'ruin a perfectly decent story' to keep at least some of the original sex scenes intact. If nothing else, this will continue to remind me why I don't particularly write extensive sex scenes in my stories anymore. As currently constituted, this story runs about 9 chapters. Cheer up, in its original version, this story ran to about 30 chapters – that was far too much suffering. Trust me; I didn't cut out anything you even want to remotely know about. No, I won't send you a copy of the original draft either. :P

Even several years after it was first posted, Eventualities: Allison is nearly always one of my top read or downloaded stories and the voting for this tale has been kinder than I would have rated it myself.

Now that this story (along with my other Lovett tales) are finally being posted at Lit, I'm now giving this rather odd and long tale one last bit of cleanup, to remove the worst of the typos. In the interest of history, I'm still leaving most of the remaining sex and the odd subplots intact, rather than rewriting the tale entirely. With several years more writing experience now, today I would write this story in a completely different sort of way, if I was doing it from scratch.

Warts and all, here is Allison...

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I knew something had gone quite terribly wrong when Tiny showed up at the fire station to take me out to lunch on a New Years Eve. Not that I have anything against having lunch... or being seen in public with Tiny (all 6'4" of him), but Tiny was a fairly private sort of guy. We've been friends for over a year, and we had never actually gone out and done "guy things" or for that matter, even gone out for a meal. This changed all that – and I knew something was up, and unfortunately I just had an inkling of the cause... and didn't have to wait long to hear it confirmed.

"Pete, Allison's drinking again," Tiny said without preamble just as I was taking my first sip of my lemonade.

"Shit. Are you sure?" Of course he was sure... he had to be. Otherwise he'd have never ridden over here, collected me from work and the two of us sitting in some dump that probably hasn't passed a food inspection since the Paleozoic era. There is a reason why firemen are world class barbeque cooks, the restaurants near fire houses are usually gawd awful (not to mention they're also usually quite fire prone – it makes us too nervous to eat if we think our professional services might be needed at any moment).

Tiny continued, "I saw her on the back of Willis's bike leaving the Bert Wheelers on Beechnut with a couple of bags in her arm. I didn't think it was her at first, but I knew it was definitely Willis and his bike – that converted Honda job. I was a light or two behind them most of the way back to the apartments; he ran at least one red light, all of the stop signs and rode enough like an absolute idiot that I had no doubt it was really him. Finally I got just a good enough of a look at her that I'm sure it was Allison. I was really, really, hoping that I was wrong."

So was I, especially about the Willis part. I'd had a run-in before with him over much this same issue three months ago, and I thought it had been resolved... I guess not. I had been so busy these last few months that I hadn't spent hardly any socializing time with Tiny at all. Tiny is an extremely private sort of guy and not the type to leave a note on your door or a message on the answering machine, even if he is your best friend. Apparently he had been trying to get hold of me for quite awhile but hadn't been able to catch me at home.

Willis, or rather Robert Jason Willis Jr, was the hapless nephew of some rich fat cat Dallas real estate developer whom, after his 2nd failed attempt at college, was shunted off to watch over one of the family's lesser investments, the cheap 20-odd unit apartment complex where Tiny and I rented (well actually Tiny gets his rent free in return for acting as an assistant manager and onsite "Security"). Since actually doing any hands-on managerial work is below Willis's dignity, he dumps most of the paperwork off onto Tiny. This leaves him with more time for attending to the 24/7 party that seems to run at his apartment, cultivating his drug connections, and his latest flummery - posing as one bad-ass "1%"er biker. I say it's nonsense, because no actual 'outlaw motorcycle gang' ™ would touch Willis with a ten foot beer keg hose. Tiny would know, because he knows every major piece of scooter trash in the city – he rode with them all for over a decade.

Tiny offered one last observation, "Sorry. Anyone else and I wouldn't have mentioned it... but I owe you." He then started a lengthy examination of his hamburger to see if it needed a few jabs from his belt knife before it would remain still and consent to be eaten.

***********

There are hundreds of stories about Tiny, and most of them are actually true the best I can tell, especially the most improbable ones, despite the fact that many would seem to be contradictions. At a looming 6'4," full heavy beard and weighing probably near 300 pounds, Tiny is never seen except when wearing his "colors" (the badge of a true motorcycle enthusiast), his worn & torn blue jean jacket bearing a large embroidered emblem of the Grateful Dead's "Ice Cream Kid" and the club name "The Fooles" (a club of one) and a US Navy SEALS patch on his right sleeve. 

It's rumored he has ridden with both the Angels and the Banditos, but he's never said... and anyone who knows for sure won't say either. Nowadays Tiny teaches bicycle safety classes for several different elementary schools, and organizes, seemingly effortlessly, charity bike runs to benefit any of a dozen worthwhile causes, or monthly "Fill the Helmet" fund drives for the Children's Hospital. He is probably the only person I've ever heard of who can get the outlaw clubs, civilian bike clubs and the police bike club all to attend the same functions with no pain, stress or itching desires to perform mayhem. Hurray for Tiny! 

He won't talk at all about his past. I'm 99% sure that he was ex-military, Navy and probably something related to Special Ops. Probably SEALs due his jacket patch, but he keeps that part of his life very hidden. If pressed he'll say he did "bad," but had a life-changing experience and now tries to do "good." What his 'Road to Damascus' was, no one knows. Tiny certainly won't say... and he doesn't talk much anyway. I've never ridden any bike bigger or faster than a 10-speed Schwinn, my ride is an EMS wagon, and that is where I first met Tiny.

**********

It was a Wednesday, only my 3rd day on the job with the Houston Fire Department (HFD), Emergency Medical Services division. I, Peter Wells, was a newly hired Emergency Medical Technician straight from the Fire Academy and still used to civilian life. I had just finished 4 years of duty as an Army Medic and was an alumnus of the infamous 'Goat School' at Fort Hood. The final exam is they shoot a real live bleating goat – if you can keep it alive for 30 minutes you pass, if not you fail. They don't do that anymore... much too politically incorrect, but I admit it was good real life training.

The HFD at that point in history was having trouble getting and retaining EMT's due to the buereaucratic attitude that they were 'Firemen first and EMT's a very distant second'. Accordingly they were running trained firemen through their EMT training later as an afterthought... and with a low success rate, so there was a constant critical shortage. 

I was part of a new pilot program where they recruited ex-military medics and nurses who had the right attitude and training to get all of the endless EMT training and needed certifications then run them through Fire School. A good idea that worked... they should have kept it (but that's another story).

Riding to the scene of an auto accident that day we received an update report on the radio: a car in a hurry to get his wife in labor to the hospital runs stop sign and doesn't see the guy on the motorcycle currently already in the intersection; they collide, and the car (as usual) wins. Bleeding badly from his right arm, shoulder and leg the cyclist (Tiny) staggers over to the car undoubted looking like some grim Viking refugee from Valhalla to see if they are alright. The driver of the car, the husband, sees Tiny and is certain that he's going to get clubbed like a baby seal... pisses his pants and then faints. The wife, whose water broke about the time they hit Tiny, was screaming like the Furies and started to do the bludgeoning herself, whacking her unconscious husband with her handbag in an attempt to revive him. 

Bemused, Tiny was still standing by the door when we pulled up with all of the sirens wailing. He then calmly asked for us to "check on the pregnant lady first, it looks like she's in some distress," and then he immediately passed out onto the pavement. Come to find out, in the crash he suffered a cut to his Axillary artery and was in some danger of bleeding out. I tended to Tiny, got him stabilized and an IV hooked up while my senior training partner looked on, and once he could tell I had the situation well under control he went to check the vitals of the woman (still shaking and beating on her husband) and then reviving him. We then called for the backup EMS unit from our station to come and pickup the pregnant lady while we took Tiny to the hospital.

That should have been the end of the matter, but this was merely the start. Later that afternoon while cleaning and restocking at the station, I noticed that in the hurry to check Tiny's shoulder wound and locate and clamp off the bleeding artery, I had pretty much cut off his denim jean riding jacket, his "Colors." They were bloody, pretty much soaked actually, and a ragged mess. Anyone else would have thrown them out without a second thought, but I had learned just enough of biker culture from hearing dorm chatter while in the Army that I knew this was extremely important to him. It took three washings to get most of the blood stains out, and I found that one of the 3rd Unit crew had a wife that sewed and got her (for $20) to reassemble the jean jacket from where I had cut it all apart. By Friday evening I had the repaired jacket back and I took it with me to the hospital after my shift ended.

Tiny was doing well. Except for a few nasty cuts and the resulting blood loss, there was nothing broken and no internal damage. He had been waiting for the final doctor's ok to release signature on his forms and was otherwise ready to leave the hospital, so it was excellent timing. Upon seeing his Colors, more or less clean and reassembled, he nearly cried and gave me a huge bear hug that nearly squashed me (I'm nowhere near his huge size) and he vowed eternal thanks and obligations of future debt. Wow, just seeing him that happy made it worth the time (and the $20 I didn't really have at the time). 

We talked a bit about ourselves and our jobs, I mentioned that I was new to the city and had just left the Fire Academy dorms and was renting a dump efficiency apartment by the week that was probably smaller than the hospital room we were in. Tiny gave me the address of the apartments where he worked and then showed me the choice of the two available units that were in the relatively best condition, and offered a sweetheart of a deal on monthly rent. I chose the upstairs one with the recently repaired plumbing and a decent working AC unit and moved in the next day. I assumed that we were now even. Silly me, we weren't even close.

After a few weeks on an intense OJT (on the job training) schedule where I was essentially nearly always on duty and lived for a full week at a time at the station, things started to finally calm down. My direct shift trainers had a good look at my skills and prior training and reported back to the chef instructor that I knew my shit and could be trusted with sharp instruments without injuring myself or others. Soon I was on the normal schedule for a Unit Crew, three days on (24/7) at the station day and night, and then three days off. It was surprising the number of classes and seminars that always seemed to get scheduled for those days off, but I still managed to start putting together a home life (ok, studying usually, but at least I was home). In six months or so I felt I could get completed with the last of my training requirements to become an intermediate EMT-I (most folks usually took a year to get out of "training" status) and then start another hard year of classes and training to test to EMT-P (Paramedic) which was pretty much the top of the normal EMT tree. 

I didn't go to bars or have much nightlife. I worked, came home, studied some more and occasionally visited Tiny every week or two, watched a game together on TV and discussed the importance of first-rate home brewed root beer (Tiny's one remaining vice). So things went for a couple of months, and then I meet Allison Blair.

**********

Like Tiny, I met Allison 'professionally', but fortunately this time she wasn't the patient. She worked the retail industry as an Assistant Manager at an upscale woman's clothing store that was part of a small but growing chain. She had called 911 when a customer collapsed in the store (nothing serious fortunately, probably just dizziness due to low blood sugar) and after the embarrassed customer had left I had a few minutes to chat with Allison at the checkout counter while filling out my paperwork.

Since by nature I tend to be extremely shy and I'm conscious of my relative shortness as a male (I'm only about 5'8," and I would have preferred to have gone into the Navy instead of the Army, but I was scared I'd get immediately sent off to Submarine School) so I tend to compensate by coming over to women as extremely self-assured with a cocky attitude. In my defense, I'm also in excellent physical condition due to my military experience and the uncertain needs of my job (firemen probably pump way more weights than police do). In her case, I was awed by her exceptional good looks. She was a stunning beauty nearly 6 feet tall with long "dirty dishcloth blonde" hair, at least a 9 on anyone's scale and obviously totally way out of my league. Even with no ring on her finger, I doubted I had even the slightest chance with her, so I did the only thing I could think of to do under the circumstances... I immediately jokingly proposed marriage to her. To both my delight and horror she instantly accepted.

Mercifully we didn't actually run out like the two love crazed kids we were and immediately tie the knot, and we actually managed to have a few dates before her personal items started to slowly, but surely, drift into "our apartment." Within a month, she had given up her own small apartment and we were living together, but it was almost over between us even before it really began. 

When two people start a close relationship the first few months are really all about learning what things the other person does that bug the shit out of you. In my case, I'm a compulsive "neat-freak," where she definitely tended towards being a slob. She was also rather emotionally 'high maintenance' who felt the need that we ought to be doing things together every time we were home together. My work hours (or rather days – three on then three off) meant that I'd only be home half the time – I also usually worked every single major holiday (the highest peak periods for calls for EMS service). She was also extremely impulsive and had an unfortunate tendency to job hop. Every few months she would decide that the path to becoming a full Store Manager was always a little better or easier at some other company and she would suddenly change jobs without any prior discussion between us. These were all rather annoying to me at times, but I thought I could deal with that. We constructed some rules about housecleaning that both of us could live with but there was nothing I could do about my work schedule and she understood and tried to accept that. 

Then there was the matter of Allison's drinking, an ongoing crisis that only I seemed to recognize or acknowledge the existence of, which caused regular problems for us throughout our entire relationship.

**********

Looking back now, much older (wiser?) and with 20/20 hindsight, I'm inclined to blame much of her problems on her relationship with her father (also an alcoholic and who may or may not have abused her as a child). She was definitely raised in a troubled house where both her parents drank like fish and fought seemingly endlessly. She was smart and very pretty but also lonely and troubled. A small legacy from an aunt plus a minor scholarship was enough to get her out of the house and into a state university. There she scraped out a degree in English and learned to party like there was no tomorrow. Fine, that's what college (and military dorm life), is for... but after college was over the old habits didn't die off. She started the day with a drink, had more as soon as she got home from work and wanted to drink until either late at night or early in the morning or until she passed out. Not good.


Eventualities: Allison Ch. 01



I will admit, I had noticed that if she had a few drinks in her, she was considerably more affectionate. Hell, with a few drinks in her she was a raging tigress in bed. She would frequently initiate lovemaking eagerly giving me head and swallowing my cum as if it were the finest liqueur then getting me hard again she would ride me to her own climax, seemingly for hours. After a few more drinks, she would admit that she enjoyed anal sex and she would take it in her ass nearly indefinitely (if I could get hard again a 3rd time). I must admit that after having little to no sex life for the last few years, I was enjoying this experience, and willing to accept her drinking habits... if they could be moderated somewhat. 

I need at this point to mention that I'm certainly not an anti-drinking zealot. I enjoy wine with dinner and don't mind having a beer or two when watching a game on TV. But as a working EMS tech I've seen the carnage that a drunk driver can cause, and I've pulled at least one drunk (or their victims) out of a wreck car nearly every week of my career. I was determined that I would not have this occur with the woman I loved.

Moderation became the burning issue. I decreed and remained firm with these rules: absolutely no drinks in the morning (especially before driving to work), no stopping off with the gals after work nights when I was working (again, no drinking before driving), and no late night drinking at home if one of us worked the next morning. She would agree in principle, promise to reform, but always somehow fail and suffer a lapse. When I repeatedly caught her, she would deny or misrepresent the facts. When those failed to sway me, she would have emotional outbursts and throw such a fit that things would remain chilly between us for a few days. I would be accused of trying to manipulate and ruin her life like her father, but I would never get provided with much in the way of details. After one extremely bad scene where things got bad enough where I actually started to pack some clothes to go and stay at the fire station for a few days, she was broken to tears and pleaded with me not to leave her. She vowed to control or severely limit her drinking and, for awhile, I think she really tried. 

Things were much better between us for the next few months, enough so that I started to consider making my proposal to her real, and I quietly started to look for an engagement ring.

**********

The week before the Fourth of July started out well for me, in fact things were going quite fantastically for me. I was officially off of training status (at least 6 weeks earlier than any of the other new EMT-I's that started at the same time I did. I was greatly surprised by this because it definitely seemed to me that the Captain in charge of training for all of the EMS units in our district was not particularly enamored of me. When I was called into his office I wouldn't have been at all surprised to learn that I was going to either be staying on training status or even be let go entirely. Instead he surprised me by giving me the good news in person and I would also be getting a not unsubstantial pay raise – not bad for city government work. 

Talking with him privately, I found out a few interesting things. First, he had been quite hard on me (and would probably stay so) because the quality of my work was markedly above average (trauma patients in my care had a statistical 20% higher chance of survival than the citywide EMS average!). Not quite all of our upper management was composed of mouth-breathing idiots he warned. There were some clever Fire Station Chiefs or EMS Division Directors out there who would be trying to poach me and get me transferred to their stations. Expect it - it would be likely to happen in the next six months or so and probably to a higher trauma incident district, such as a bad neighborhood with higher crime with regular stabbings and shootings. This could be good for my career if I concentrated on getting my advanced certifications to become an EMT-P (a full Paramedic and then the additional certifications to become a Trainer). If I pushed myself aggressively, he told me, I could easily be sitting in this Captains seat within 10 years. Not bad for a short unpopular kid that never had the bucks to go to college!

Thrilled with this news, my station boss sent me home a day earlier than my shift would end to celebrate and with a newly enlarged paycheck in my hand, I paid a visit to all of the local jewelers until I found what I thought was the perfect engagement ring. With a few last stops for a nice bottle of wine, the fixings for a fine surf & turf meal with a rich dessert and a bouquet of flower I was on my way home. Getting home nearly 24 hours earlier than expected I was looking forward to a four day weekend we would always remember... just not the way I would have anticipated.

*********

Getting home around 5 p.m., I started to assemble the makings for dinner but delayed the final cooking steps until after 6, as I was expecting Allison sometime after 6:15 p.m. Time passed and it became after 7 p.m. Concerned, I called her store, hoping to get the Evening Manager or one of the staff and was told, to my surprise, by the salesgirl who answered the phone that Allison had stopped working there a few weeks ago. 

I was flabbergasted. I had known nothing of this. On the days when I had been home, that she would have worked, she had dressed normally as for work in her suit dress and left at the normal time. Job hunting, I now supposed, or else she had already started work for another retail chain once again. By 8 p.m., dinner was pretty much ruined and I was in a panic. I was worried about her absence and fearing the worst (this was back in the late 1980's when cell phones, and even pagers were still uncommon). I had called everyone I knew to call and no one had seen or heard from her. Sometime shortly after 9 p.m., I became too nervous to remain in the apartment and I started walking back and forth to the parking lot to see if I could see her car coming. 

Sometime about my 4th or 5th trip, I noticed that there was a party going on at Willis's apartment. Not much of a surprise. There was a party there every weekend but it was a bit louder than usual for a Thursday, even for him. I didn't like the guy much (I had heard lots of stories about him and his lifestyle from Tiny) but he stayed out of my way and we only rarely saw each other in passing. About the 6th or the 7th circuit to and from the parking lot I was agitated enough that I thought I would finally go disturb Tiny and see if he knew anything about where Allison was or what she'd been recently up to. 

I started over towards Tiny's apartment on the other side of the complex and, in doing so, I had to pass right by Willis's. His unit was downstairs, on the back side of the Management office, in the center of the complex. As I got closer the sounds of blaring metal rock grew louder along with the sounds of people laughing and having a good time. The patio window was wide open letting out all of the noise but, because there was an eight foot privacy fence around the patios of all of the downstairs units, I could not see anything inside. I had almost completely walked past when I stopped dead in my tracks, I thought I heard Allison's voice... or rather the husky screaming voice Allison used when she's potted to the gills and getting royally fucked! 

I moved back to right up against the fence but the problem was there were really too many different noise sources. A booming stereo, a TV blasting what sounded like a porno video, and six or eight other different voices yelling and laughing. I just couldn't be sure it was her! I gave up and walked around to the front and knocked on the door. Heck, I just about had to beat the door down to get anyone to hear it. Eventually some weedy guy I never seen before, shirtless in jeans holding a beer answered the door. It took three tries to get him to hear that I was looking for some chick. He didn't know her name, but yeah there was some chick here. He then shut the door and went to check. I should have followed, but some tiny spec of self-preservation stayed my hand and I stayed outside and waited. 

I did hear a loud "Oh Shit" or two which was not auspicious, and my fears were confirmed a minute later when the door reopened to find Allison being unsteadily supported by two guys, with a smirking Willis standing behind them. It was obvious that she had been having sex and had been hurriedly (and sloppily) redressed when I came to the door. Her tank top on inside out and backwards, her shorts were buttoned off-kilter at an awkward angle with no underwear (it's apparently hard to dress a nearly passed out woman while she is lying on a bed).

To this day I thank my guardian angel who stayed my anger and my hand because, at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to put some of the other skills I had learned in the Army to hard and painful use. I just might have taken that first step forward to start breaking skulls when the large paw of Tiny's hand grabbed my shoulder from behind. He had come out from his unit unseen by me when I had stopped to knock on Willis' door and with his perfect sense of timing, had known when to step in.

"Good, there she is, Pete. I'll help you get her home." With his other arm he took hold of her and as we took hold of her the door quickly shut (and locked) behind us. I again started to think about going in there and confronting the situation but Tiny read my body language (or thoughts) and said "Not now, this isn't the time for it. She needs you now and you have to take care of her first. We'll worry about Willis later, he'll keep."

Tiny was right. We got her up the stairs and home, where she instantly passed out the second she hit the bed. Tiny stayed for awhile and we discussed the situation. I was angry, felt hurt, cheated and somehow diminished. It seemed as if I had been kicked all over and nothing would ever be alright ever again. Eventually Tiny got the point through to me that while much of the circumstances were indeed fully Allison's fault, she had been (to a degree) taken advantage of and possibly even raped. She was clearly incoherently drunk, way past the point of consenting to sex (even assuming she did at that stage). He advised me to listen to her, avoid yelling and try and help her see if the relationship could be salvaged. At that moment I felt that we no longer had a relationship but I agreed that I would hear her out. 

Tiny left with a final word about Willis. "Don't do anything... let me handle him."

I didn't get any sleep that night and I packed my clothes for a lengthy stay at the fire station as I anticipated that things would not go well in the morning. They didn't, if anything they went worse. Allison claimed to remember nothing whatsoever of the events of the afternoon and evening, and when pressed to the breaking point with the facts of the issue, pleaded 'blackout'. 

She had drunk so much that day that she couldn't remember any of the events of the day past mid afternoon. She was forced to admit that yes, she had lost her most recent job when her boss caught her with alcohol on her breath in the morning once too often. She had been job hunting most mornings and had found out Wednesday that she had received a job offer to start with a new company on Monday, hence her wanting to "kick up her heels a bit" and party a bit Thursday while I was off at work. She further admitted to poor judgment for accepting an offer to have a drink with Willis but denied that she would have had sex with him under any circumstances, even drunk (or in an alcoholic blackout). 

I just could not convince her that I felt strongly that she had cheated on me and that her recent behavior had made it nearly impossible for me to trust her. Mostly importantly, I did not tell her that in my pocket was the engagement ring that I had planned on offering her that evening, had not events transpired otherwise.

We were at an impasse. She raged and screamed – I picked up my suitcases, left for the fire station and stayed there for the next week. My Captain quite understood, because Firemen and Police have insanely high divorce rates and even the relationships that survive are sorely taxed at times. 

*********

Things were quiet for the next few days. Tiny had apparently put the fear of God in Willis such that if he was caught even looking at her again, all of his body parts would be unlikely to be ever found again. And it worked, Tiny called to tell me Sunday that Allison had knocked on Willis's in the early afternoon and he had refused to admit her and she spent the next hour yelling and screaming abuse at him, accusing him of fucking up the only good thing she'd ever had, etc. I was glad to hear it! This did give me a bit of my pride back, but not enough to take her phone calls which came at least several times a day and only increased in emotional intensity. 

I was in an emotional quandary myself; I felt nothing but hurt and pain, and the longer things drew out the pain of her absence seemed to gain the winning hand. My heart felt it had just been cut out of my body and was flopping there on the floor in front of me while I tried to figure out where there was a bandage big enough to tape it back into place. I couldn't sleep, didn't have any appetite and began to believe that nothing in the world would ever be entirely right ever again.

Finally, the next Saturday morning, Allison showed up at the fire station and refused to leave until she saw me. I came out and we ended up just looking at each other for a good couple of minutes, neither of us able to get a coherent word out. Frankly, she looked like hell. If I hadn't had much in the way of sleep it certainly looked like she had been getting even less. My mouth opened and shut a few times but nothing was coming out, intelligent or otherwise. All of the hundreds of things I had wanted to say to her and had thought about in the long hours of the night were missing, the words just trapped somewhere... and not anywhere where my tongue was going to find them anytime soon.

At last Allison broke the deadlock of silence with probably the only five words that really actually mattered, "I'm sorry...," followed by a pause and then, "I love you." 

"I love you too," I replied, and we just fell into each others arms, held each other and let the tears flow. At some point I vaguely recall the station captain coming out and telling us to 'go home' and that he'd not expect me back to work for a couple of days, and so we did in her car, leaving mine at the station and the ride in near absolute silence. 

There were still massive relationship problems to be resolved but we had a clear unspoken agreement that we were going to resolve them together... just as soon as we got out of bed.

********

The make-up sex was beyond fabulous and way past fantastic too. We hadn't made it three steps into the apartment before she was on her knees in front of me and pulling my pants down to my ankles. She wouldn't release me an inch until I had blown my first load of the day down her coaxing throat and swallowed every drop of my copious load (it had been two weeks since we had last had sex). From then on it was 'Around the World' in bed, with every sexual position we could think of, performed on every orifice available. After I'd come the third time (in her tight ass with her on all fours), I thought I was about done for awhile or at least until we'd had a good rest but Allison was primed for still more. Without skipping a beat she turned around, and without hesitation, took my wilting cock right into her mouth and sucked it back into hardness again. This was something she had never done before, while she did occasionally enjoy anal she had never touched my cock afterward, except perhaps to clean it with a wet washcloth. 

As she cleaned my now rock hard cock her eyes looked up to meet mine and uttered some words I would never forget for the rest of my life, "I love you, and I will always love you and belong only to you. I am yours totally, utterly and irrevocably. Please never, ever leave me again." 

That said she resumed sucking my cock as if she were a woman possessed, and despite my utter exhaustion she coaxed one further semen explosion into her awaiting throat, as she had managed to deep throat me for perhaps the first time ever (I'm only about 'average' cock size, but am blessed with a stout girth that gave her trouble handling the last inch or two). Exhausted, I fell right asleep with her head on my chest but when I awoke refreshed a few hours later it was due to her talented tongue once again coaxing my cock back into life. She was enormously successful and this was pretty much the cycle of events for the next few days.

The real number one issue between us was her utterly out of control drinking, and this was not a problem that was going to get instantly solved, but for the first time in her life she began to acknowledge that she did have a problem. It was agreed that we would try and limit her drinking as she believed that she wasn't an alcoholic and prohibition wasn't really necessary. I wasn't quite so sure. I reluctantly agreed to this (some progress being better than none) and her drinking remained curtailed for some time, probably about three months, before I noticed indications that voluntary self-restraint wasn't working. This was also about the time that my work and classroom training schedule requirements exploded on me. This meant that I found myself home even less than usual and more exhausted than ever before.

Those three months where Allison could and did limit her drinking revealed a completely new and different side of her. When sober, Allison displayed far less self-assuredness and confidence. She seemed delicate, often having trouble making decisions (even minor ones) and could easily become rattled or even near paralyzed by the fear that she would make a wrong one, – or worse, one that would make me potentially unhappy. There were things I liked about this new Allison but there were just as many things I missed about the old self-confident Allison that now seemed to be gone, especially her former vivaciousness.

Her internal world appeared to be a smaller and scarier place now, with the possibilities of life's little fun adventurers now being replaced by a newer (or much older) viewpoint that around each new corner there might instead be a monster waiting to pounce. When I was home she became 'clingy', quite out of character for her previously, and while she never rejected a hint for lovemaking, these occasions rarely now became marathon sessions, as she would now prefer just to be held after a single lovemaking. When I was away at work, she would more and more often sleep with all of the lights on, if she slept much at all. 

I believe now that her complete and utter fear of making another big mistake and possibly losing me again contributed to her relapse into drinking heavily again. Then the guilt from that drove her into even greater episodes of severe binge drinking, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

*********

With her reduced alcohol consumption, her work performance did begin to improve. She had started at another new company immediately after our reconciliation, and this new job did seem to suit her a bit better. Her new boss seemed likeable and considerate, and kept the atmosphere at work light and relaxed. Her future chances for promotion to a Shift Manager position seemed excellent. I thought this would help to boost her confidence, and for awhile it certainly seemed to. Bits of the happier 'old' Allison soon started to regularly reappear and I almost believed that things were nearly back to normal. Then I got a surprise phone call while I was at home one Monday morning on one of my off-day days, from Pamela, the Store Manager at Allison's workplace.




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 01



She introduced herself, and then wasted no time in dropping the bomb on me. "Are you and Allison having relationship problems? Is there some trouble there at home I need to be concerned about that explains her behavior here at work?" 

"Huh? What?" I stammered in confusion. "As far as I knew there is nothing currently happening that should be a problem to her, let alone one that should be causing any situations at work. Why, what is happening?"

She then told me, no surprise, that Allison was drinking again – a couple of margaritas at lunch and then a few more with the girls at when she got off of work at five o'clock. Already my warning lights were going off in my head, since she had told me she told me she didn't get off until after six, and often needed to stay late. In addition during the workday she had been seen several times drinking from a small flask in the stockroom. 

This was not good, and could quickly lead back to the problems we had had earlier. I thanked Pamela for the information and I briefly gave a somewhat sanitized history of Allison's problems with alcohol, to which Pam offered a great deal of advice... much of which I wish now I had followed more carefully and completely. In short, alcohol 'rationing' as she put it, simply was probably not going to work in Allison's case, she seemed to need it too desperately, only cutting her off completely 100% (and keeping her off) was likely to have any positive effect. Above all, Pam stressed, Allison needed to be taken to AA – forcibly if need be. 

Also, we both needed a vacation, bad timing or not for my work, Pam thought I should get her out of town for a week or two and away from the mostly empty house, hopefully long enough for new (sober) habits to have a chance of sinking in. Her job would still be open for her upon her return. (What a great boss!)

This gave me quite a bit to think about. Yes, the timing was bad, very bad, for me to take any vacation time at the moment. I had been with the HFD for just a little over a year at that point and I did have almost all of my accrued vacation time unused, the problem was my EMT-P classes. Allison needed two full weeks of my attention, day and night, but the most time I could take right now immediately was about 8 days until my next scheduled test for the current block of the study program. If I missed or rescheduled that test, I would have effectively lost my last 2 months of crammed study. In conversations that afternoon with my Station Captain, the Senior Training Chief, and also with Tiny, they all advised "tests be damned – give your woman the attention she needs" – but I was too fixated upon getting that promotion as fast as possible and I thought those eight days would be enough. 

I was wrong, and I think I knew it at the time, but I had convinced myself otherwise. I requested and got the eight days of vacation leave, and then suitcases packed for a long driving trip I left the house right at 5 p.m. and went to the Mexican Restaurant & Cantina where Pam assured me that Allison was was every evening. Let the games begin!

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

To say that Allison didn't appreciate being grabbed by surprise by her arm and be towed literally kicking and screaming out of a crowded bar (and away from two gentleman admirers that had been happily buying her drinks) would be an understatement. She yelled and screamed and called me every curse name in her book. It improved even less when I grabbed her purse from her, upended it and found a mostly empty metal hip flask with vodka in it. Thank goodness there were no condoms, at least. Caught, she turned sullen and became withdrawn from me and my probing questions. 

"Smile," I said, "you're on vacation for the next week," as I poured out the last ounce or two from the flask unto the roadway. The flask itself went into the trashcan of the first gas station we later stopped at. "And enjoy that last bit of aftertaste from your Margarita, because as long as I have anything to say about it, that drink was your last."

The mood was ugly in the car for at least the next two hundred miles. 

We drove through San Antonio on I-10 going West and kept going and going, stopping only for gas, food and bathroom breaks. Allison remained quiet but surly, once refusing to leave the gas station bathroom until I got the spare key from the attendant and frog marched her back to the car. When yelling failed, she began to beg and cajole. When that failed she pleaded and cried... to no avail. 

"The next drink you take will be your last with me as far as I'm concerned. Make up your mind: your drinking or our relationship?" I would tell her, usually about every hour; and usually she had no answer. I drove all night and reached El Paso by mid-morning. I had done my early Army Medic training here at Fort Bliss and I remembered a suitable fleabag drive-in motel with nothing but surrounding miles of desert and not a beer or bottle to be had for love or money; that would suit the situation perfectly!

We slept in separate beds for the first (and only time) we were together. I did make a point of hiding the car keys in case she got the notion to club me with the motel desk lamp and take off in the car in search of a drink (I wouldn't have put it at all past her at that moment in time).

The road trip continued. New Mexico turned into Arizona and the late autumn heat was just enough to defrost the iciness in the car. Allison began to relax a bit and started to enjoy herself, despite sniffy claims to the contrary. She shared my bed that night in Tucson, but we did not make love. Upon her request the next morning, we detoured off to see the famous Wild West town of Tombstone, and while she was painfully itching to have a drink at the infamous Crystal Palace we both made do with a Sarsaparilla (nasty stuff, but wild westerny and non-alcoholic). By the time we stopped for the night, just across the California border, she was sleeping with her head in my lap and, for the first time on our vacation, we made love, slowly and unhurriedly. We had sex every night thereafter but I think this particular bout of lovemaking was special because it was a reaffirmation that we deeply loved each other and neither could really bear the thought of us being separate. 

I'll spare the lengthy details of the rest of the vacation other than to say we made it as far as San Francisco (where we did leave pieces of our hearts, and vowed to return someday) before we had to drive home in a 48 hour non-stop frenzy via Las Vegas, which attracted our hearts not at all; we didn't even stop for gas there. We made it back to Houston with literally only 30 minutes to spare before my scheduled testing time. 

I somehow nearly aced the test despite no sleep for 3 days and 'crammed' by either reading in the car while Allison drove or having Allison read my textbooks aloud to me while I drove. Madness, but I'd make that trip all over again in a heartbeat. It was too short.

Those glorious eight days of 'our vacation' were the high-water mark of our relationship. We returned to my lengthy and awkward work and study schedule and Allison began to work nearly as hard herself in order to recover her boss's previous good impressions of her. Things weren't bad at her work, but there was now an obvious strain in her working relationships with her direct supervisor that didn't entirely go away. She did not get that promotion to Shift Supervisor and there were only vague hints that such a promotion would be at all likely to occur anytime soon. Allison's discouragement began to grow and she even began to hint that she thought it was time to change jobs once more, to start new somewhere else and without the baggage. I told her to hang on and show some loyalty to her boss, and for now she did.

**********

When Allison had been sober for a month, she remarked that 'this was the longest she had been without a drink since she was 15 years old!' She did have some alcohol withdrawal symptoms, her hands noticeably shook at times, even a month later, and her temper became quite short as if she was occasionally in physical pain. It was obvious that staying sober was a daily battle for her and the nights when she was alone were apparently even worse. When the urge to go have a drink started became too powerful for her she would call me at work. At least several times a week I would get her late night phone call at the fire station or a message to call her back ASAP when I returned from an EMS call. Soon it got to the point where I would just call her several times a night just to reassure and comfort her. There were good days and bad days, and I was beginning to worry that the good days weren't occurring frequently enough. 

It was the week of Thanksgiving when I think the wheels started to come off the tracks and Allison lost her battle against the bottle and began to drink again.

***********

That Thanksgiving holiday was pretty much a disaster for us both. I still had about half of my training course left to go and my long expected but feared transfer occurred right after Halloween. My new fire station was quite a bit farther from home giving me a longer commute, but more importantly less opportunity to stop by the house by surprise for a few minutes some evenings when things at the station were quiet and I would be able to run out for an 'errand' or two. 

There was almost never a slow period at this new station and I spent every shift elbow deep in blood dealing with gunshot wounds, stabbings and drug overdoses. This station was located in one of the worse parts of the city in a high crime area where highly trained trauma EMT's were a critical necessity. We were understaffed and overworked, with many of our veteran EMT's in bad 'burnout

. About half of the EMT staff quit and left the profession entirely during the two and half years that I worked that District. I worked five non-stop days that Thanksgiving holiday weekend with little more than occasional catnaps and almost no opportunity to phone Allison, let alone stop by the house and see her. When I got home, I did not like what I found.

The house was a wreck, bits of broken china and glass remained unswept in a corner of the kitchen. She appeared somewhat manic, alternating laughing and crying, demanding to know where I had been, and why wasn't I home with her? No answer I could give was satisfactory. Her kisses had the distinct odor of mouthwash and breath-freshener but 'No', she denied having anything to drink. My gut told me she was lying... but I couldn't prove it. 

Covert searching over the next three days failed to find any hidden liquor bottles, but I began to feel certain I just wasn't looking hard enough or in the right place. She did admit she had quit her job, but wasn't going to look for another one quite yet. She admitted to being out of sorts and wanted time to 'straighten her head out.' We didn't particularly need her income and her head certainly needed something... I agreed without debate.

What should have disturbed me the most was that she was now skipping her regular AA meetings nearly constantly now.

Over the next month I saw more and more signs of the old Allison, her confidence seemed to significantly improve and she became much livelier, but she remained moody as if she had a number of things on her mind. The lingering aroma of breath freshener and strong mouthwash became a constant in our home. Whenever I got the opportunity I searched everywhere I could in the apartment and in her car but just couldn't find any hidden bottles stashed away. Something told me that I was missing something important but I couldn't put my finger on it. 

Allison began to very much resent my new attitude of suspicion and the entire month of December started with a strain to our relationship that nothing seemed to alleviate. I admitted defeat to myself in proving that she was again drinking and let the matter remain dropped. By Christmas time I had pretty much decided the whole thing was just in my overworked and overstressed imagination. Then, on that New Years Eve day, Tiny showed up at my fire station wanting to take me to lunch and my whole world came crashing down upon me.



Eventualities: Allison Ch. 02



If there is a worse day than New Years Eve to have an emergency at home, I don't know what it is. The entire New Years weekend is fondly referred to by us working professionals as 'amateur night'. Everyone drinks too much, and too many folks think they are ok enough to drive only to end up killing themselves or others in record numbers. Even the ones that stay at home end up playing with their firearms and shooting them up in the air, forgetting that what goes up must indeed come down. Or the folks that miss while shooting up in the air part and accidentally shoot themselves, their spouses or their dog instead. This jolliness means that an EMS Tech never gets that night off, we all work, non-stop. 

Now, even if I had to quit right on the spot, I needed a few hours to go home.

It almost came down that. I didn't like my new boss, Captain Rowlins, particularly, not compared to the great first boss I'd had but he was a reasonable man (and smart enough to pick me out of the hundreds of other junior EMTs to improve the rankings for his Station (when I arrived we were ranked #97 of out #113 for overall quality of service, when I left some two years later we were ranked #18). 

Learning that I was resolved to go home that afternoon regardless of the circumstances, he thought for a moment and said, "That scratch on your arm looks like it needs a stitch or two. Have you had it looked at? I didn't think so, go get someone at the hospital to look at it. That will take awhile with the New Years crush, but just be back by tomorrow morning -- some folks will need a breather by then." 

Amazingly, there was no way he could give me the time off, so he instead created a valid cause for a non-existent injury (the minor scratch referred to had barely broken the skin and had already been treated). I think I made it home in record time, barely stopping for lights or traffic… but Allison was not at home, and I didn't dare yet go to where I expected to find her.

I took the long way around the complex and walked up the stairs to Tiny's 2nd floor apartment. He opened the door before I could even knock. "They aren't there," he said, "but I think they'll be back shortly. I have to leave for awhile, you can stay here and wait." He turned to leave but added as he walked out the door, "I have my bird watching binoculars on the table there if you want to watch with those… I've noticed that you can see over the fence and into Willis's place real well from here." I think he wanted to say more, much more, but finished with "Don't do anything, anything at all until I get back, ok?" I nodded and he left.

Tiny was right, with the binoculars there was a clear view over the fence and to the patio door window, the blinds were shut at the moment but if they opened, even a little, I could get a view into the bedroom area. This is what I desperately needed to know, so I settled in for a long wait. If nothing else, military life teaches you how to 'hurry up and wait'. 

I was rewarded about forty-five minutes later by seeing Allison and Willis returning from the parking lot but to my surprise they just exchanged farewells (no physical contact) and he entered his apartment (with what looked like a case of liquor) alone. Allison walked to our apartment but, to my surprise, didn't walk up our stairs. Instead she walked around to the right side of the building and just a bit out of my line of sight. I threw myself out the door, nearly tumbled down the stairs in my haste and moved around to the side of Tiny's building to give a clear view down to mine. Allison was nowhere in sight, which was impossible because there was nothing else out that direction… except our small storage shed. 

Each building has some small 6x6 locked storage sheds along the side, one for each tenant's use. We never used ours, we just didn't have enough stuff and as far as I knew it was empty. Except, I remembered now, Allison was always bringing in holiday decorations in and out of the apartment. Since at least Halloween and it certainly would have had a lot of empty Christmas tree or decorations boxes that I don't remember seeing in any closet. She must have been storing things there… and I had never thought to search that shed for alcohol, I had forgotten we had it entirely! 

A few minutes later a shed door opened (ours) and Allison came out. In the nick of time I had dived behind a bush to remain unseen. She walked around the front and up the stairs into our Apartment. I checked my key ring and, as I thought, I didn't have a key to the shed. Allison had the only one it seemed. But Tiny, as the de facto Apartment Manager, would certainly have one and, searching through the desk where he kept everything for the complex, I found a ring of keys labeled "Storage," and I found a key with our apartment number engraved on it. Moving quickly, but taking the unseen long way around, I got to the shed and opened the door, there I discovered Allison's secret hiding place. 

I found several liquor bottles, some empty, some full and one recently partially drunk from. On top of the Christmas tree box was a bottle of mouthwash and a small spray bottle marked "No Booze-Breath," or something like that. Here was her secret life, in all of its sordidness. At some point the urge to drink had just been too strong for her. She had weakened and given in to her thirst. Fearing discovery, and the possible ruin of our relationship, she had tried to keep this secret well hidden from me. I was furious, but prepared to deal with this. This much at least I could handle. I resolved that this time she must go to the AA meetings. She had been to a few before but hadn't enjoyed them. She would only attend when I forced her to go and in the afterglow of a particularly pleasant evening of sex a few weeks after our return from vacation I had agreed that she didn't have to go to AA if she wasn't getting anything worthwhile from them. Bad mistake of stupidity for me! No More!

I relocked the Shed and went back to Tiny's and started to think about our options and I almost missed the sight of Allison leaving the house a few minutes later as she again returning to the shed. This circuit continued for next two hours as she make at least four trips to and from her hidden stash, each trip it seemed to me she was a little more unsteady on her feet. My mental list of the promises she had made to me, and now broken, was growing by the minute causing my anger to grow. More than once I resolved to leave Tiny's and have it out with her -- but I remembered Tiny's admonition to stay until he returned. Something also told me I was missing a last piece to the puzzle and I resolved to wait and watch for it. It was not much longer in coming.

Just before it became too dark to clearly see what was happening, Willis emerged from his apartment and walked over towards mine, I soon lost him to the growing gloom and as he walked behind his building. I debated haring off after him to see for sure if he was going to Allison's and my apartment, but at the last moment decided to remain put at Tiny's and wait. I didn't have to wait long. A few minutes later, out of the darkness, Allison walked up with Willis (already a little unsteady on her feet) and together they went into his apartment. 

Yep, things were now much worse. My wounded bandaged heart now felt re-broken all over again and was perhaps held in place by only one remaining stitch. Any sense of hope I had recently felt was now gone. I watched, waiting to see if the patio blinds or door would be opened so I can see for myself the worst and be done with it. Unfortunately, I didn't have too long to wait.

Around 9 p.m. guests started to show up at Willis's door, Allison admitted some of the first few arrivals (still fully dressed, thank God), and I began to hope that perhaps nothing untoward would happen this time. My hopes began to diminish as the sounds of partying grew louder and the arrival of even more guests of extremely unsavory appearance. Willis had been playing lately at being a big shot biker according to Tiny, and it looked like he had invited a bunch of scooter trash to his party. One came bearing a large keg and soon the noise level grew even louder as everyone was obviously starting to drink heavyly. I was going nuts imagining the worst but unable to see much if anything happening, when my wishes were granted and someone opened the bedroom patio door to have a smoke outside. Now standing up I could see well about ½ of the bedroom, and if I crouched down at an angle I could see the doorway from the bedroom into the living room/kitchen. At last I could pretty well see what was happening inside!

I only saw Allison briefly a few times and then just for a few seconds. Always with a glass in hand and she now appear to be barely able to stand. About 10:30 quite a few of the guys had congregated in the bedroom and appeared to be enjoying a porno video. Allison appeared in the doorway, and seemed to laugh at the guys watching the video until a hand appeared from behind her and cupped one of her breasts. She playfully removed the hand, but didn't resist when someone appeared to start kissing her neck (it's always been one of the more sensitive spots on her body). She then turned around and appeared to kiss someone still in the living room as the unseen kisser's hands caressed over her back and ass, his right hand plainly fondling her left breast first over her shirt and then finally underneath it. 

Very unsteadily she eventually broke off the kiss to enter the bedroom area where the bathroom was (part of the room I could not see any angle into). She remained unseen by me there for some time, but emerged to sit on the edge of the bed, appearing to watch the video. The five or six men in the room took little time to pull Allison (unresisting) closer towards them and they began to kiss and caress her. Within five minutes she was topless on her back deeply kissing two men, while two other men each sucked on her breasts. A fifth guy was removing her shoes and then her skirt. All too soon she was totally nude and the fifth man (whom I now recognized as being Willis), had spread her legs and begun cunnilingus on her. The two men who had been kissing her stopped to undress themselves but a new arrival appeared who put his waiting cock in her mouth, which she began to enthusiastically (if drunkenly) suck. From this point the party really began in earnest.

By midnight the patio door and blinds had been pulled wide open (it wasn't particularly cold for New Years Eve in Texas) as the orgy participants became exerted and overheated but I no longer cared much to see what was happening in that bedroom. I had seen far too much already. If anyone at that party had not enjoyed the sweet charms of my would-be fiancée Allison, it was certainly not by oversight. Newcomers kept arriving and some earlier guests, now sated left, but the party seemed to still be in full swing by 1:30AM when Tiny returned. I was pretty much done with watching and cataloging the events of the evening by 1 a.m., when an obvious biker couple arrived at the party and the woman immediately stripped down and joined Allison on the bed. 

Allison had never admitted to having a previous lesbian experience (even in college), but it was clear to me now that she had some prior experience with this sort of thing as soon they were in a ferocious 69 while various male partners fucked each of them. Allison was clearly drunk off of her well-fucked ass and had to be almost carried several times to the bathroom to pee, but was soon returned again to the orgy to once again be used as the men desired. At no point did she say or signal "No" or even signal that she had had enough. I think she had even passed out on a few occasions but was revived and returned to sexual service. It was not lovemaking, this was pure animal fucking, 'using' her as if she were an appliance -- and she seemed to enjoy every moment of it.

**********

The first thing Tiny asked when he returned was, "What do you want to do?" The problem was I just didn't know. The last stitch holding my heart together had broken and I saw no way that it could be repaired. 

Allison and I were through. All that remained was the packing and there wasn't even too much of that. Tiny helped me get my clothes packed and, looking around the apartment, I saw that there really wasn't much else that I wanted or desired to keep. I put my bags in my car and, as an afterthought, went back into the shed to get the bottle of mouthwash and the breath spray. 

"Trust me on this one Tiny," I said, "No, I won't start any trouble tonight but I think I need to do this at the very least." I then walked over to Willis's and knocked on the door. Willis answered the door himself this time, wearing only a pair of shorts.

"Hey bud," I said, "Do me a favor and give these to Allison in the morning, if she sobers up -- she will want them. She need not bother to use them on my account anymore, I won't be at home. That's your problem now and good luck with dealing with her!" With a cheery smile and a wave I walked off. 

It was petty, but it did beat busting all of his teeth and getting arrested for assault. I did hug Tiny goodbye; we then shook hands, and said we'd keep in touch and I moved out for good and moved onwards. Well, at least onwards with a new life of loneliness.

I tried very hard not to look back as I drove away… but I did. Twice.

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

The next year seemed to alternately speed by and slow to a dead crawl. I threw myself into my work and my studies. I was forced to change tiny apartments and telephone numbers every few months as someone at the station would weaken and gave out either my current address or hone number to Allison. Tiny swore he'd, "Never given it to no one," (hmmm, there's a double-negative there…). 

Tiny and I did lunch weekly at first while the dust was settling, then monthly and finally just about every six months or so. Soon after I left Allison she had moved her clothes into Willis's place, but they were far from a happy couple. Soon she moved out of the complex entirely and right into an apartment that I had just vacated because Allison had following me home from the fire station one morning. 

Her late night drunken phone calls begging for forgiveness became infamous 'Tales of Legend' at the Fire Station. I requested a transfer, but realistically knew I had no chance whatsoever in getting one. I worked longer, more irregular hours and usually managed to avoid her camping out, waiting for me outside the station. Finally, the District Fire Chief and 2 Police cars convinced her to never show up there again (they supposedly threatened to both arrest her for stalking and to fire me) -- neither event had any likelihood of ever really happening of course, but it did finally scare her off from following me. Supposedly it was the District Fire Chief himself who was handling the book for the bets on when I'd break down and take her back. 

After about six months her calls dwindled to virtually nothing. I didn't know whether to be happy at this or sad that she finally may have moved onwards herself. I missed her. Badly. I knew I couldn't live with her as an alcoholic whose actions regularly became utterly irresponsible after heavy drinking, but I still wasn't sure myself how I was going to live my life without her. Even as time passed, the hole in my heart never refilled and the wound refused to scab up, let alone begin to heal over. 

There were many, many lonely nights where, if Allison had phoned me, I would have forgiven her everything and taken her back at once without a second thought.

**********

I did receive several cryptic stories from Tiny over that next year, the oddest concerning Willis. I had not forgotten Willis at all, and my anger still burned deeply for some sort of revenge against him. Tiny counseled patience, "I know some things that you don't… and that you don't ever want to know. Willis is about to get what's coming to him and you don't want to be anywhere nearby. He's angered way more people than just you or me. Trust me." I did, so I waited and in a few months he suddenly disappeared forever. The most Tiny would say was that Willis had burned someone important in the Banditos (probably the premier Texas Outlaw Motorcycle gang then), and was 'made an example of'. More than that he would not say, but I got the very definite impression that no one would ever be seeing Willis alive again, or probably most of his separate body parts either. No loss.

Concerning Allison, Tiny also had little to say. (Sometimes getting information out of Tiny is worse than pulling teeth!) I knew for pretty sure, that through his various connections both legal and extra-legal, Tiny was keeping tabs on her. A watchful eye far in the distance but he had made his decision to stay completely out of her life, to keep the two of us apart and separate. Once, when I was at a bit low point after the next New Years holidays, I asked him pointedly where she was and what she was doing. Tiny avoided the questions repeatedly until he saw that I was serious and would persist.

"You don't really want to know," he said. "You really don't. She drinks all the time now, too drunk to hold any real job… you know what that means don't you?" I was afraid that I did. That really only left three options as I could figure them, she was either stripping, working the streets (or on her back) or has a 'Sugar Daddy' willing to put up with her (again working on her back). I think a little more of the remaining part of my heart died upon hearing that grim news. 

"You can't rescue her, it just won't work." He said sadly, "She has to want to stop drinking, and it has to come from inside of her first or no help from anybody is ever going to be of any use at all." Tiny would say no more but did agree to tell me the moment that there was any change in her condition to where she could be helped.

Oh, I had passed my EMT-P exams with ease (2nd highest test scores ever recorded in the HFD), but it gave me little pleasure or satisfaction. I continued to throw myself into my work and began the laborious process towards gaining my Instructors certification but even that was just to remain busy and focused upon something, anything. It was in this mood that I bought my first house.

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

Having an oddball schedule where you work or are on-call many days in a row and then are home for much the same, led to my having a lot of empty time on my hands, time in which I was desperately sad and lonely and full of regrets. The things I had done wrong and things that I did not do but should have done, flogged at me, especially in those late hours alone in my small apartment. 

I began to consider buying a house, a small one with lots of problems to keep me busy on my off-days and too tired later at night to brood over what was and what could have been. Money was no problem, I was one of the youngest EMT-P's in the department and was clearly one of their blooming stars. I got regular bonuses and all of the paid overtime I wished to work (and in those days I worked every hour I could get). I soon found just the perfect fixer upper home in an 'improving' neighborhood in the Montrose area, reasonably close to my fire station but central enough so that I could relocate easily in the future. I had enough fun with the remodeling project that when the house next door came up for sale the following year I mortgaged myself to the hilt, fixed it up and flipped it for a profit of over $100,000! Soon this became my full-time occupation on my EMS off days, each year buying or selling one or two houses, but keeping a few of the ones that I was most especially proud of the work I had done. I rented these out, usually to acquaintances in the Fire Department, HPD or hospital staff in the Medical Center. The work was fulfilling, and it did the job of keeping me too busy to mourn the fact that I had absolutely no romantic or social life whatsoever. 




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 02



The word had gotten out somehow among the young (and not so young) emergency room nursing staff that I would meet on a nightly basis, delivering my EMS patients, that I was a "Grade A+" catch - hard working, rich, dedicated, (did I mention rich?) and best of all very single! It seemed to me that young pretty nurses came from all over the hospital to show up at the Emergency Room and 'help' once they got the word that my EMS unit was on the way to their hospital. I was rewarded with lots of views of lovely creamy (and dusky) cleavage (seeming more exposed every visit), and more than a few 'accidental' rubs and bumps. 

One nurse actually went so far as slide her skirt upwards to reveal that she wasn't wearing any underwear, and she was completely smooth shaven with a prominent clit and had well featured (and delectable) cunt lips which she desired that my cock press between and into at the earliest possible moment. When I declined (I'm only male and human and I was attracted somewhat to her but the room we were in wasn't nearly private enough) she cried "What does a girl have to do to get you in bed?" 

My reply was, "Invent me a time machine so I can go back in time to force the woman I loved into Rehab." She had no answer to that and left me mostly alone after that time but it certainly added to the legend of my utter unobtainability, which just added to the challenge for many other young ladies. 

I did end up dating quite a few of them when I tired of the chase game and even bedded a number of them (and had a few unforgettable experiences with a pair of pediatric nurses who did 'everything together'). While I can admit to having some fun now and then while getting some regular sexual stress relief, I met no one who really filled all the empty pieces of my heart. I still had yet to meet any woman who could replace Allison's position in my heart -- and was beginning to doubt, but slowly accept that this was unlikely to change. 

On the day of my thirtieth birthday (and five years w/o Allison), Tiny threw me a little party. The guests were mostly a few HFD and HPD friends and acquaintances, along with a few pretty nurses thrown in for decoration (I was starting to make a few friends finally). After the last guest had left Tiny whispered in my ear, "Allison has moved to Denver." 

Apparently for the last year or two she had gone through a revolving door of men, or rather she was getting passed around an increasingly lower class of men, some of whom supported her briefly and then discarding her or passing her down to a friend or business acquaintance. Occasionally she would go on her own, try and start a relationship but invariably ended up supporting him through her limited earnings. Her latest man of the moment had been in prison twice on drug charges and appeared once again to be working the corners of the narcotics traffic trade. This was the man she packed up and followed to Denver. 

This was enough to spoil for me the enjoyment of the entire evening. Undoubtedly why Tiny saved this last choice birthday gift for last after everyone else had gone. The sight of me crying uncontrollably on my knees on the floor would definitely have been a downer for my guests.

I had no further news about Allison from any of my usual sources for the next year or so. It was a mixed blessing at best; I was concerned for her but I had the expectation that any current news about her would be even worse still. More honestly, I had began to admit to myself that we undoubtedly had no future together that I could possibly foresee. I began to see myself finally healing and I was about ready to move fully onwards with my romantic life, possibly even being ready to start another serious relationship. 

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

It was the last day of February and at the dot of midnight the phone rang. I was still awake and had been sanding some kitchen cabinet pieces to be installed in my current project house the next morning. I wasn't expecting any calls from work, I now had my Instructors certification and worked significantly fewer hours now roving from station to station each week evaluating the performance of other techs for my current job. I didn't recognize the voice at first and when I did I just about dropped the phone. If I had been working on my bench saw I have no doubt that I would have probably had an accident and sliced off my own hand. 

It was Allison. She sounded well, her voice a bit husky in that sexy Katherine Hepburn sort of way, but more importantly her voice was clear and sober!

"Today is my two month sobriety anniversary," she said. (And I believed her). 

"Congratulations," I told her, "I'm not sure you understand how happy this makes me, if it's true." 

"It is. It's been so hard… so very hard, but it's worth it. But I wanted it."

She really had wanted to do it and had managed it all by herself, with no one forcing her. I think that was what made all the difference in the world. We talked for what seemed like hours, but it was really at most only fifteen minutes. Not long after her move to Denver, her dipshit druggie boyfriend got himself arrested while transporting someone else's stuff. It was enough to send him off to prison for awhile. Allison was able to convince the Denver police that while yes, she was a hopeless falling down alcoholic, she had nothing to do with her boyfriends business and was happy to see him gone from her life. 

She was taken to see some AA program counselors where for the first time she got a good hard semi-sober look at where her life was going and the scare took. She found an AA sponsor that kept a close but friendly eye on her, helped her to use her English degree that had gathered dust since college and helped her to get a provisional Elementary Education Certificate. She failed sobriety a few times early on but never fell completely down to stay. Each time she picked herself up, dusting herself off, and pledging to do better the next time. Two months of sobriety was her best milestone yet, but she seemed as if now she had the confidence to continue.

And she did. She called next at the end of March for her three month anniversary and then again at the end of April for her four month. Our conversations grew in length each time, and we could both tell that the old feelings for each other were still there, not far under the surface. The deep sighing on both ends was palpable. I got to learn all about an entirely new Allison I had never heard or seen before. She seemed to have conquered most of her inner demons and, while she had regrets without number, she wasn't going to let them ruin the rest of her life too. She was definitely a happier and better person. She then asked if I could come at the end of June to Denver for her six month Sobriety Party and I wavered, thought and didn't know at all what to say. From somewhere inside of me, to the best of my recollection, here is what I replied.

"Allison, I still love you, but I can't see you now -- not until I know for sure the old Allison who hurt me is gone forever and can't ever hurt me or us again. When you have been sober for a full year, I think that will be this New Years Eve, call me and I will come to you wherever you are in the world, and won't ever leave your side again, unless you want me to."

Wow, did I really say that? Oh shit. What had I done? She replied something vague in reply (I think she was utterly shocked too) and muttered something about calling me on New Years then, and then, I swear I heard her say in a tiny distant voice before hanging up, "I love you too). Well that did it, now we were both pretty much screwed.

I waited to hear from her in May and June, but she did not call. I assumed then that she had taken me literally about the year of sobriety and I wouldn't hear from her again until after Christmas. For some reason this made me more nervous and emotionally upset than I had been back in the period when I hadn't been hearing at least occasional news of her whereabouts. I had started to care again and that just meant that I was ripening for more disappointment, pain and hurt. By Thanksgiving I was a nervous emotional wreck, alternately terrorizing my young EMT trainees by day and leaving increasing agitated phone calls to Tiny for updated news from his network. 

**********

In early December, just when I was starting to finalize and confirm my scheduled vacation time and get the plane tickets to head up to Denver, Tiny finally took pity on me and broke me the news… or else he felt that he couldn't hide it any longer and one of my HPD friends would bring me the news instead.

"Allison's gone from Denver, she's been missing for about a month and no one has seen her, most of her stuff is still at her apartment. It's probably no coincidence that her one-time boyfriend just got out on early parole two days before. He's skipped too, never even checked in once with his PO (Parole Officer). The Denver folks think he grabbed her and forced her to go with him. No news yet, everyone is still looking." 

By everyone, Tiny really did mean everyone, on both sides of the law. They would turn up. By everyone's account Travis (her ex's name) wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer and was certain to screw up or make some mistake. Hopefully his mistakes weren't going to get her killed.

I kept a bug to Tiny's ear and called every Police contact I knew or could get my hands on. Soon I found out that the FBI was treating this as a kidnapping case, much to my relief, as there seemed to be some evidence that Allison had certainly not gone with him willingly. Their last confirmed sighting had been at a gas station between Las Vegas and Los Angeles. A security camera had a few photos that showed them in a stolen red Mustang convertible, with Allison's right hand apparently handcuffed to her doors armrest and her left hand drinking from a bottle of Wild Turkey that he seemed to be pretty much forcing down her. What a bastard. Either he didn't like or want her sober, or as the lead FBI agent thought, he found her much easier to control this way.

Reports dried out to nearly nothing. A similar make and model red Mustang with different plates (those also later reported stolen in LA) crossed over into Mexico the next day, unfortunately about the same time the police found the security tape, so too late to get an APB on the stolen car to the border crossings. After that news there was nothing. Nothing at all from any source, anywhere. The two had effectively vanished. 

Eventually, the FBI took the case from off of the front burner (if in fact the case was ever on one) and the case started to grow cold. Conventional Wisdom from nearly everyone was that dickhead had sold the car off to one of a thousand different chop shops in Mexico and Allison soon decorated a nameless grave somewhere in the lonely deserts of Northern Mexico. I didn't think so, some tiny little spark inside of me kept saying that Allison was a survivor, she now had the will to live and do whatever was necessary to keep alive and going to the next day, when her ordeal could possible become over. 

Right. Keep thinking that -- the power of positive thinking, etc. I wasn't religious, but I began to say a prayer for her health and safety every morning and every night, and began to seek what comfort I could from the HFD and HPD department chaplains and even managed to regularly visit a few hospital chapels when I was stopping by. 

The word got out among my nurse friends, of which a few stepped forward offering their occasional companionship, a home cooked meal, an ear to listen with… and sometimes offering their nude body to comfort mine if I happened to desire it. I think a few of them still thought they could win my heart for keeps, but one by one they became disillusioned and accepted other marriage offers. Others just wanted me as their friend (particularly 'a friend with benefits') and I have remained especially close with several of those ladies, even to this day.

*********

I had been seeing a lot of a woman named Myra, just before Allison, and the news of her new sobriety, re-entered my life. She was a counseling Psychologist and I learned more about troubled human behaviors from her than I did from any medical textbook and she knew every detail of my troubled relationship with Allison. She gently scolded me for my mistakes, educated me as to what I should have instead done and what I should do in the event Allison and I ever did have a future. She believed utterly without reservation that Allison was alive and I would again see her someday. 

We had been dating casually for several years and lately she had been sharing my bed at least once a week or I shared hers. I didn't quite 'love her' -- she was just a little too emotionally remote and distant for us to make that final connection, but we were good for each other. We could be lovers, but we were never "intimate" with each other. Her soul was locked and sealed behind an array of locked vaults that no lover could seemingly ever enter. She satisfied my emotional and sexual needs enough that I had long cooled off most of my other relationships with my other nurse lovers. Never once did we really seem to get serious and there was never any discussion of one of us moving in and living full time with the other. There were no thoughts, let alone any discussions for a more 'permanent' arrangement. She never seemed jealous of my other part time and diminishing romantic attachments, as she knew none of these relationships were serious, or ever likely to be. These women were all friends I had known for some time who would never intentionally emotionally hurt me, nor I them. 

Myra recognized that my heart still seemed pre-occupied and never once sought to supplant herself in Allison's place. Again, this was probably due to her persistent habit of hiding all of her personal feelings, even to herself. She could have been boiling inside with anger or seething with jealousy, but her eyes would remain clear and her voice and demeanor always calm, collected and clinical, as if she were in her office talking to a patient rather than her lover and 'best friend'. She obviously had some secrets, but would never open up enough to share them with anyone. 

She did have a fairly sordid and checkered sexual past herself and, if in the mood, would graphically tell me a few of her sexual exploits while we were in bed together and see how aroused her story telling could make me without her even touching me (yet). Despite her emotional distance, when it came to physical sex or descriptions of it, she could be quite graphic. In bed she tended to be very submissive; she preferred being told exactly what to do while in bed even to the extent of enjoying being 'tied and then used', - her words. She clearly also had some rape fantasies and I swore I heard her on at least two occasions call me 'daddy' while we fucked. Out of bed, she ruled all that she could survey with a glove of steel that brooked no debate or dispute from her staff, her peers or even her few friends.

Marla was unashamedly bisexual, but I seemed to be her only primary male lover. She had occasional 'dalliances' with other men but most of her other friends and lovers were primarily lesbian. Upon hearing of my past enjoyment of a romantic interlude with a nubile young pair of nurse roommates that 'shared everything', Myra would occasionally surprise me with an threesome opportunity with one of her obliging bisexual or 'curious' lesbian acquaintances. She asked once if I could enjoy a threesome with her and another man, but I declined. I felt I would have to know the man fairly well for it to be enjoyable, but I would probably have feelings of jealousy, depending upon the woman involved - and I wasn't particularly interested at all in any bi-male encounters, if the situation came to that. The matter dropped and never recurred, although we did get involved in a couple of foursomes, the first time unplanned, and a few occasions with them afterwards. The women were very bisexual and we men very macho and hetero. That and other things were fun, but I drew the line at going to an orgy. I was invited to one once, but I had too many memories of Allison being gang-banged at that fateful New Years party with Willis, and declined to go and let Myra go with one of her other girlfriends instead. 

Myra reminded me in many ways of my early vivacious experiences with Allison. She was a woman who seemed to know what she wanted (in bed anyway) and willing to try anything at least once (twice if she enjoyed it). Unless there was a way to break into the lock guarded vaults of Myra's heart and soul there was no possibility of us ever having any kind of real future together.

**********

Allison had been missing for nearly four years when I received the strangest message I'd ever gotten. It was too cryptic even for one of Tiny's messages. A few years ago he had moved out of Houston to become the Children's Services Manager for Lovett County, Texas. We don't phone each as often as we should, but I do get regular postcards from him. 

I had never heard of Lovett County and had to look at three different maps before I could even find it. It's the smallest county in Texas, and undoubtedly the strangest and most mysterious. I asked questions about it and received a number of very strange answers from the few who had ever heard of it. No wonder they wanted Tiny, I think he fit right in!

The message, was an unsigned email (a new thing to us because we had just gotten HFD office email for the first time the previous year and not all of the fire stations were wired to the Internet yet) that seemed to be sent from one of the San Diego public library branches. The message stated 

"Oh, it will be so funny seeing her after so long,

And the way she looks, you won't be impressed.

It seems she's let nearly everyone,

Take off her party dress.

I hope you still feel a bit sentimental,

And feel a bit of the old Valentine,

Because she is still loving somebody,

Only I know it is still you (and not mine)

You know this world is killing her,

Please let your aim be true."

And the short postscript, 

"If you wish to put out the big lights or can't stand to see her this way,

Come visit me at the Velvet, and ask for a dumb blonde named May"

Allison. 

It had to be about Allison, and only a friend would probably know that the Elvis Costello song "Allison" was one of her favorites. She had loved new wave music and I had been partial to British Invasion and Progressive myself, but we had tolerated each others musical tastes fairly well. 

A few phone calls and a bit of research turned up that while there was no bar or club called the Velvet, there was a low rent dive of a strip joint called the Blue Velvet Lounge, that according to my new police contacts in San Diego was rumored to be a hotspot for the drug transport underground pipeline from Mexico. The club owned by several extremely suspicious persons SDPD and DEA had been watching for some time, and it also had a reputation of being a biker hangout. 

Neither SDPD or DEA had had any prior success getting anyone "inside" to talk (the last potential informant had been found floating in San Diego Bay) and the mere suggestion that I "might" have a possible contact working inside the club brought everyone from both organizations salivating at the prospect. A few phone calls to the FBI got Allison's current case agent involved (she was one of over three hundred 'cold cases' sitting on his desk) and once he was filled in he made a few calls of his own to the San Diego FBI Office that got their major case squad also ready for action. The next day I had a written instructions and plane tickets in my hand to fly to San Diego, allegedly to assist with an FBI operation that featured EMS elements. My current boss (a useful idiot if ever there was one but getting close to retirement) saw this merely as an example to his boss, the head enchilada Fire Chief, on how successful his EMS training program was, that even the Feds needed his personal assistance. Ha-Ha!




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 02



That afternoon, I was on the flight to San Diego, and hopefully about to get some answers.



Eventualities: Allison Ch. 03



The circus got off to a roaring start from the moment that I walked off the plane. A fellow in a good suit, expensive shoes and a chauffeur's hat was holding a sign with my name on it, 'Mr. P. Wells', or at least most of it. He asked for my Texas Driver's License and actually examined it closely (another sure sign that he was really FBI), then he grabbed my one carry-on bag and we were soon driving off towards downtown in a large black SUV that couldn't have screamed 'Government' more if it tried. The driver, an Agent whose name I was apparently not worthy enough to receive, answered all of my numerous questions promptly with, "I don't know Sir," "I don't have that information, Sir" or "I can't divulge that information at this time, Sir." 

Exasperated I asked him how long he had been sleeping with his boss's wife? To which I got the more candid reply, "That I could tell you Sir, but then I'd have to kill you." Who says FBI agents have no sense of humor!

We got checked into a nice downtown 3 or 4 star hotel and I was hustled up to my room without ever having to sign in, nor did I in fact actually ever receive a room key from anyone for several days. Swell. The party in my hotel suite appeared to be already in full swing. No it wasn't that kind of party (mores the pity). Instead there were four FBI agents (three local San Diego based Field Agents and also Allison's kidnapping case Agent from DC) facing down three DEA agents from across a table. 

Everyone was shouting and no one was particularly listening. Another fellow whose name and agency I never did find out, but screamed hardcore Government such as Secret Service or 'No Such Agency', was attempting to play mediator between the FBI and DEA but no one was listening to him either. Three lonely looking dogfaced fellows in cheap suits who looked like they might actually work for a living were sitting on a sofa near the window. Obviously these were the local SDPD boys and they were all far too unimportant for the feds to be wasting any time dealing with. Those were my kind of fellas. I walked over and joined them in a chair where we quietly traded information and bets on which fed was most likely to get pistol-whipped first. 

I learned what I needed to know fast, and we started to come up with the bare bones of a plan. 

About half an hour into our private skull session a leggy lady with short-ish raven hair, probably about in her late 30's but still very decorative, came over and, without introduction, sat in the remaining chair with the rest of the 'B-team'. Turned out that she was a local Fed also who usually worked on Navy operations with NCIS and was primarily their coordinator with other agencies, but she had hostage negotiation experience. She also had some useful local info on a few of the individuals who were likely to be involved and she didn't have a big hard-on for getting the lions share of the credit also - she was very willing to share her toys. She didn't speak much but when she did it was usually involving something critical the rest of us had overlooked. Without her sage advice I'm sure the entire operation might have become a total clusterfuck… it was a very near thing as it was.

Eventually the Fed boys noticed that I had arrived, stopped rattling their sabers at each and instead started to dictate plans of action towards me. I listened as politely as I could manage, but after about forty-five minutes of restraining the urge to do some pistol-whipping myself, I interrupted. 

"Ok, fine, I think I understand your plan. Well it sucks, it's going to get people like Allison or myself killed. Fuck you all very much. I've got a much better plan and I don't need you involved at all." 

The fed boys were all flabbergasted and speechless. Good start! I continued, "Now that we have established that, here is my plan. This is the plan that we are going to use if you in any way shape fashion or form want my help, otherwise fly back to where ever you came from and go back to fucking yourselves in whatever deep and dark basement they usually keep you locked up in." Jaws were dropping all over the room; the SDPD guys were trying to refrain from laughing and not succeeding at all (I became their bosom buddy for life, saying what they all had felt, but couldn't dare say politically).

"Here is the Primary Objective, the rescue of Allison Blair, assuming she is alive and able to be rescued. There are no other Primary Objectives for this mission! I understand and I am aware that there are some folks here with itchy guns wanting to make some major arrests for narcotics trafficking, kidnapping, slavery, interstate prostitution, gun running, murder, counterfeiting, money laundering and every other facet of organized crime but those objectives are secondary and optional, so long as these do not conflict with our Primary Objective. Are we understood"? 

Bedlam broke out again, loudly, violently and all over the place. Good, now we were really getting somewhere. The Navy gal gave me a big smile that hinted she'd love to bear my children. The feds ranted, raved and blustered the rest of the evening until darn near midnight but I held all of the cards, well the only important one anyway, so I held firm. 

Someone inside the den of crime and vice that was the Blue Velvet (Gentleman's Entertainment Club) knew the whereabouts of Allison, a known kidnapping victim, and I was the only ticket to get the feds inside. This club was long suspected of being the base for some very serious criminal gang activities but until now nothing could be proven. The repeated attempts law enforcement had made to infiltrate the club had ended in disaster each time, with the potential witnesses uncovered nearly immediately and swiftly killed. In actuality both DEA and the FBI were utterly desperate for any potential means of getting any useful inside information from inside the club. The fact that it was going to be my head alone that was jeopardized bothered no one. 

I threw everyone out of my suite at around midnight, including a slightly disappointed Navy gal. I don't think she actually wanted to start the physical process of beginning to bear my children but she was enjoying our conversation. I managed to get a few decent hours of sleep before we started things rolling again early the next morning.

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

It took nearly all day to get all of the things I wanted and had demanded, meanwhile we tried to polish over the remaining rough spots in our plan, and unfortunately there were many. Ok, the plan was still pretty much a turd but it was the only plan we had that would: 

A. theoretically even have a chance of working and 

B. give me a likely life expectancy of longer than thirty minutes. 

The bare details of it were this:

1. Under the best of circumstances I was going to be an unknown stranger walking for the first time into a hazardous location, looking like a fish out of water and potentially asking sensitive questions that were very likely to get me killed.

2. I would wear no 'wires' and there would be no other 'active surveillance' while I was inside because the last person to walk into that club wearing a wire was found dead in San Diego Bay the next morning.

3. Limited availability of backup (see #2 above)

4. As an unknown stranger I would have to be from out-of-state and have a plausible cover identity and adequate reason to not only wish to visit that club once but perhaps several times for up to a week if necessary.

The last, #4, was the worst part, and where our resident Navy Angel offered her best advice. She noted that about six weeks ago, a local doctor with possible crime ties was found killed execution style (and again floating in San Diego Bay). This suggested a possible "vacancy" in the crime organization for a trained trauma surgeon (the smart and rich crooks don't go to the hospital when they've been shot). While I was not a Doctor, my advanced Paramedic training (and Army Medic background) made this option a believable one, and if actually put to the test, I actually could indeed operate on gunshot wounds more or less in the manner of a trauma surgeon. 

We created the persona of fast living Minor Emergency Doctor with a private practice from Austin, Texas. We then got the FBI to create a set of believable credentials for me and then we found a medical convention running at a local hotel and retro-actively registered me there. It was scheduled to run until Saturday and included discussions on trauma surgery so it was an excellent fit. I left my normal wallet and keys with the SDPD guys, carefully checked my baggage and personal articles for anything remotely suspicious, transferred over to the new hotel (this time I did get some keys) and began my new double life. 

So, I became the slightly shady Doctor Peter Finch and was assured that my new identity would withstand the highest level of scrutiny for least 72 hours. Unlikely, but this whole operation was running on faith to begin with. I was also well funded with some special currency that was genuine but had special traceable RFID strips in each bill. The FBI did install recorders in my new room (alas not a suite) and my rental car. Fine, that seemed the safest way to keep everyone updated, in the event I drew attention… assuming that I had the chance to squeal for help. We also planned for one of several contingencies and had several backup rooms at a cheap motel that was within a few blocks (and night-vision binocular range of the Club). 

Things were all ready to go and I was now just waiting for later in the evening when, hopefully, things in the club would be at their busiest. We did a few last sound checks at the convention hotel in the car and at the nearby motel room. All was still good so, when the clock hit 9 p.m., I left the motel room. I parked sort of near the center of the parking lot so I had a fair chance to make it to the car if I had to run for the door and made sure it was facing towards the road so I had a slightly better chance in the even more unlikely event I did make it. A minute or two later I was walking through the front door of the Blue Velvet. 

**********

I had a bit of trouble getting in. Two biker type gatekeepers recognized me as being new and not a member of the club where a 'private party' was occurring. They hassled me about my business there, as I certainly wasn't on the approved guest list (a dump with a guest list?), but this was a problem that money could easily solve and a pair of fed issued Ben Franklins bills got me inside the door.

Whatever I had prepared myself for or expected, the Blue Velvet still had plenty of surprises, There was certainly no actual blue velvet used anywhere in the club, as far as I could tell. Secondly, this club featured "Totally Nude Entertainers," and from what I could tell at first glance few of them were worth a second glance. Some women really do look better clothed. Age and gravity seemed to be the most likely common culprits. 

A few girls did seem young and a bit "green" and brand new to the skin business but none of these were ravishing beauties. Clearly, this joint was not intended to be one of the big moneymakers for their organization. The hostess wanted to seat me near the stage, close to the lights but much too close to some muscular gang members whose appearance fairly cried out 'thug'. I slipped the hostess $20 (some of my plain money, not the fed's marked bills) while asking if "May was working tonight?" I also asked her for a booth in a dark corner. The bill and the hostess both disappeared fast and I waited.

I gave the joint my best quick inspection, without trying to look like I'm looking too hard. The place didn't improve to my eyes, the talent here was definitely low grade and the more I looked the deeper the feeling I got that this club was really just a stage play designed to attract attention. My dark corner was indeed fairly dark, but for all practical purposes most of the club seating area, except for around the stage, was pretty much also enclosed in gloom. I could pretty much tell what was happening close by me but seeing what was happening in the other corners of the club would be extremely difficult. The stage show suddenly seemed quite toned down from what I had first seen upon entering, which I thought involved two of the more attractive women, but now it was just one of girls gyrating alone. 

The bartender, a brutish surly looking lout, seemed to be watching me as was a young well dressed thug who seemed to be one of the clubs managers. He finished speaking with the gal who seated me, came up to my booth and asked, "Excuse me Sir, I don't believe we've seen you here before and you're asking about one of our girls, May is it?" He was well groomed and had a nice suit that almost (but not quite) hid the fact that he was packing a gun. His tone was polite too and my Mama always taught me to repay politeness for politeness, especially to armed folks.

"The name is Doc Finch or just call me Pete or Doc. Hell, whichever you can remember. Yep, I'm looking for a gal that said she works here, name's May, y'all know her? Stupid little blonde cunt; not got much in her head, but she used to be able to suck a golf ball through a garden hose, that one. I used to know her in her prior 'working' days." If I'd winked, winked and nudged, nudged any more, I'd have end up calling him "Squire" for good measure but I thought that this dressed up thug might have accidentally either gone to college or had previous heard of Monty Python, so I behaved. Say no more!

I think it also helped that I was dressed up about as Texan as my brain could stand without rupturing. I've lived in Texas much of my life, have a bit of the local accent but no one from outside Texas believes you're really from Texas unless you have the cowboy hat and boots, blue jeans with a big rodeo buckle, a bolo string tie, and say "Y'all" a lot. Well the bolo tie was out, but I did own boots and was wearing then and a sort of suitable hat I had owned since my Ft. Bliss and Ft. Sam Houston Army days that I'd only worn maybe four or five times total, but I'd grabbed last thing before leaving home for the airport. Since I was playing at being a Doctor, I felt that good slacks and a white shirt would do for the rest. The outfit seemed rustic but professional and when I test wore it at the medical convention during that afternoon I seemed to fit right in with another pair of Texas based doctors.

We talked another minute or two more and the suited thug seemed to visibly relax, I guess he wasn't in the mood for any pistol-whipping tonight and my inevitable one-way trip into San Diego Bay seemed to be at least postponed for now. He said that May was in the back, but he'd send for someone to get her for me right away. He asked me if I wished to start a bar tab so I offered up my new driver's license and credit card (valid up to $10k) and he left. 

Leaving my table, I noticed he made a sort of hand gesture toward the bartender, who in return then, faced the DJ and nodded to him. A red light which had seemed to be a general signal to the floor staff now stopped glowing above the DJ booth, and the club patrons relaxed. The dancer on the stage stopped her lethargic dance and began kissing another dancer that immediately now joined her. The action everywhere around me began to heat up noticeably and neither the Floor Manager or the bartender appeared to pay me any further heed. 

I could bet that already the electrons were starting to churn as the folks in the back room were starting their background check on me. A good start. Phase 1 seemed to be a success and now it appears as if Phase 2 was bouncing down the isle toward me.

It was unmistakably May. Either that or Mary Lou Retton had dyed her hair bleach blonde and started a major amphetamine habit. The perkiness was unfathomable and she oozed hyperactivity from every delicious pore. She was dressed, sort of, in a tight silk camisole top that did nothing to hide or restrain her D cup breasts that somehow utterly defied the laws of gravity and eraser tip nipples that had to be at least an inch long. Her cute wiggling bottom was covered with a tiny silk thong that revealed in its glorious entirety an ass that just cried out for buggery and pretty much displayed in exact profile the full moist lips awaiting discovery under the thin silk front. She looked to be at least 40 years old, but it seemed like a good 40. She must have been a knockout at 20. 

May came bouncing up to my table and launched herself into the booth, hugged me and squeaked loudly, "Petey!" So far so good. Grabbing my crotch with one hand and hugging me with the other, she pulled herself up as tight against me as she could get and, in-between loud giggles and other feminine eruptions, she whispered close to my ear, "EMS Fireman Pete from Houston?" She asked? I whispered back in the affirmative. 

"Ok," she again whispered, "Here's the big question, Where did you take Allison for her vacation and who is your best friend?" A nice choice of things that only the real Pete Wells (and not a mob pretender) should know. This 'dumb blonde' did have a few hidden brains, just like we suspected (and hoped for during our planning). 

I answered, briefly but directly, about the 'detox vacation' from Houston to San Francisco. I almost mentioned Myra's name instead of Tiny's, true now, but not true when Allison was with me. My true persona established, I began to press May for information until she squeezed my cock hard enough to hurt and, after pressing her lips to mine, she whispered again in my ear, "It's not safe to talk here, it's not safe to say anything, anywhere here. Tell me fast, quietly, anything I need to know, then shut up and play lover boy to your 'dumb bitch'. We need to wait a bit, there are some things you need to see. Be calm, be cool and we'll all be ok." 

While she nibbled on my ear, I give her the barest of the important details, I was an old lover from her working days (seven years ago in Dallas she thought was the best fit) who was an ER Doctor, both bored and always in need of a bit of extra cash. The horse races had not been good to me this year.

The 'facts' organized we called for another round of drinks and began to talk about 'old times', loud enough that anyone who wanted to hear could. As the evening progressed we discussed increasingly improbable sexual events we had been a party to and fully acted the role of two old lovers that shared some quite sordid past history. May's left hand never seemed to leave my crotch and she would alternate caressing my cock through my pants or my thighs and stomach if she thought my pants were becoming too strained. With the cover of May's close presence, I could take a closer look at what was happening around me. It was certainly educational.

The booths around me each contained one or two men, and a few naked ladies, who offered and provided any sort of sexual release upon command. I saw women giving hand jobs or blow jobs from on their knees under the tables. Some were even having open sex with their seated male partners, riding on their pricks or else, as in one instance, boldly being fucked right on the table. Everywhere I looked, the women were also kissing each other, fondling and licking each others breasts, and caressing and even eating each others cunts. Now that I could appreciate what was happening around me, May's handiwork had no problem keeping my cock at near full hardness. May continued to kiss me and asked me to hold and openly caress her breasts, I was happy to oblige her, and did so at once. A few minutes later I when I starting to think about removing her top for a better view of her ponderous gravity defying breasts, she hissed in my ear, "Here she comes. Just watch, but do nothing." This was what we had been waiting for.




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 03



I didn't see her at first, she had come from the far back side where it was a bit too dark to see and had moved over by the center stage area. It was Allison; I thought so, but couldn't quite tell for sure. She was thin, much too thin, her breasts seem much smaller and I could identify every rib bone on her chest. Her long and leggy frame seemed as if it had been pulled in a taffy machine but lurched with an all too familiar unsteadiness. 

I hadn't seen Allison in almost fifteen years and of course she was still drinking. I knew in my heart that if she was indeed still alive, the odds were certain that she would have to have done some terrible and degrading things to stay alive. Sometimes I hated to be proven right, but this time I was sure it was not her fault and I had vowed to forgive or forget if possible everything I was likely to see and hear tonight. I didn't have to wait long… it seems it was Allison's turn to perform on center stage.

Nude, wearing just high heels, she started a wild manic gyration on the stage slithering and sliding like the old hootchie-coochie girls of old, to the DJ sounds of spastic new wave rock. Sweat glistened from her breasts, which I could now see were both pierced with gold rings. A tattoo appeared to be featured on her left ass cheek, a letter or symbol, but I wasn't close enough to be able to tell for sure. As her dance finished one of the thugs sitting up front stood up by the stage, a tall muscular black man, grabbed her and kissed her, which she did not attempt to avoid. A moment later he roughly pushed her to her knees and put his cock into her mouth. A new dancer came up and rubbed her breasts and cunt onto Allison. She began alternating her attention between these two lovers, kissing and caressing each in turn. After a few moments of that, her male lover seemed to effortlessly pick her up, sat back into his seat, mounting her upon his cock facing him and impaled her. His two companions began to undress. 

"Ooo, it's about to get good," May huskily muttered, as she slowly began to unzip me, freeing my straining cock. I finished removing her top and let my right fingers do some wandering of their own, into her tight soaking wet cunt as I began suckling her breasts, keeping at least one eye on Allison's performance.

Allison was certain far too busy to see me, even if she had somehow suspected my presence, she was riding one fairly good sized cock, had another one in her mouth and one more in her left hand while her right hand massaged the cunt and clit of her dancer friend. Another cock soon entered her ass and she became fully stuffed with cock, riding herself into an orgasmic frenzy. 

"You've got to admit she's talented," May grunted as her hand stroked me faster and faster, "Tell me before you cum, I'd hate to waste it," She hissed and my own hand twirled on her clit as fast as I could manage it from the angle my hand was in.  

Over by the stage the first of Allison's lovers, the one whose cock she was sucking, had shot his load into her eager mouth. She immediately turned her head toward the dancer and they kissed deeply, tongues swirling, sharing together the creamy splooge load. 

The sight of that was too much for the man fucking her ass and he loudly announced that he was filling her bowels with his cum. That was just about too much for me also and I warned May I was about to shoot. Without skipping a beat, she dropped at once to her knees under the table and inhaled my cock into her mouth. Then I had a shock that nearly made me forget about wanting to cum at all. Allison's ass man had finished his ejaculations and had moved over around to near Allison's mouth and was pushing his wet cock towards her face. She rejected it! She refused to suck him and returned to kissing her girlfriend! 

I was surprised and at wonder about this and nearly forget my rising need to cum into May's willing mouth. When the large black man that Allison was seated upon had his own orgasm and flooded her cunt, the juices of which ran copiously down her thighs as she arose from off of him and turned around, offering her saturated cunt to be eaten by any taker. As I watched another of her fellow dancers dropped to her knees before her to clean her sopping with her mouth and tongue. 

I could withhold no longer and had one of the strongest orgasms of my life as I filled May's mouth and throat with my creamy and copious discharge. She sucked down every drop, missed nothing, licking me fully clean (and once again semi-hard) before returning to sit again beside me.

"We can go now," she said, almost sadly. "You needed to see a few things, and know the worst of it; pretty much now you do… and now we can talk but not here. You have a place handy?" I told her to saddle up, go get her clothes, get dressed. I gave her a smack on the ass and told her to also go talk to whomever we needed to for approval for her to leave the club now. That proved to be the same Floor Manager I had met earlier. I paid my tab which was outrageous and certainly for more drinks than we had actually consumed (good thing I wasn't going to have to pay that credit card bill). I also paid the Floor Manager $200 who gave permission for May to leave work early, and I left another $100 in the tip jar for the girls from my wad of goverment funny money. I was pretty sure the gals would never see a penny of it, but it was the principle of the thing. No one stopped us as we left but I caught one last sight of Allison before I left. She had joined some gentlemen in a booth, had her head bobbing up and down on one guys lap, obviously giving head. I only recognized her by the mark on her ass, her head otherwise obstructed and occupied. We got into my rental car and left pronto.

We arrived at the parking lot of the nearby motel where we had taken the adjourning rooms, I pulled over next to the pool but a bit away from the buildings. "May, I'm glad things worked out allowing us to speak a bit. I can't tell you what a relief it was seeing Allison alive at least, although she doesn't look at all well. I need to know now, how much are you willing to tell me and how much or little of this do you want anyone else to know right now, or perhaps later?"

She thought a moment and replied, "I'm willing to tell you everything I know but I'm going to want a few things in return. Maybe you can help me with them and maybe not. If we can work a deal I'm willing to talk to anyone you want me to talk with, but not right this second. I'd like this first meeting to remain as private as possible." Fair enough, I could deal with that.

Unfortunately, that left out using either of my hotel or this motel room, both had electronic surveillance. The easiest option was to just get a different room at this motel and let my watchers stew for a few hours. Some humility would certainly do some of the FBI guys some good. 

I paid with my own cash for the room (no sense letting Uncle Sam buy a fourth hotel room when they weren't going to get anything out the of deal just yet) and I sent May on ahead into the room while I talked to my listening handlers via the microphone inside the rental car leaving a brief report of the evenings events. 

Phase 3 of our plan seemed to have gone well beyond our predicted expectations. 

Allison was alive and not in obvious imminent danger, and we had an insider who was probably willing and able to tell everything about what she knew about the gang operations. I had vaguely hoped that I could get Allison "rented" for the night, like May, but May had informed me that this was impossible, she was not a "trustee" and her every activity was monitored. 

I gave the feds a quick update and gave them my room number but warned it could screw up the whole deal if we got disturbed prematurely. We weren't, thank goodness, because May had certain activities planned and I would have hated to have faced folks in the morning, knowing that they had been listening in on our fun all night.

***********

For starters, when I entered our motel room, the first thing I noticed was that May was almost naked and had just finished fastening the last of the straps on a black leather corset she had donned. It was a rather interesting corset, sturdy black leather that exposed all of her miraculous breasts (surgically augmented I'm afraid) and had attached wrist cuffs behind her back. A leather and steel collar lay on the bed, along with a riding crop. All of these articles seemed to have been produced from a small pack lying partially open on the bed and it didn't seem to be quite empty yet. I shut and locked every lock on the door. It definably looked like this was going to be a bad time to get interrupted. 

May had mentioned "conditions", and there were more than a few… not all of them to my liking. It was going to be 'playtime first', then sex and only after that (much later) would there be talk.

"After trust has been established between us", or in May's other words, "Once you gain my trust and I tell you all that you wish to know and if I then repeat this knowledge to others of your choice, it is you whom I will hold as personally responsible for my future health and safety. If everything goes to shit and the operation is screwed to hell, you're on your own. It's self-preservation time. Do you agree to all of these conditions, in full and without reservation?"

I affirmed my acceptance - to rescue Allison, I had no other choices. May was the golden ticket to everything. I placed her leather collar around her neck and fastened her wrist restraints. She took the riding crop into her mouth and crawled her knees to present it to me.

I will not say much more about the events of the rest of that long and very interesting night, except that I fulfilled all of May's conditions in full and gained her full and absolute trust. I had never had any particular experiences with B&D other than with Myra, who enjoyed mild-bondage, and one other particular nurse who enjoyed being tied up for sex and could only come to orgasm easily and often when playing out a rape fantasy. I had never had any experience with the S&M community (it's common and popular sport among both the police and medical communities) and, while I did what I needed to do (for Allison), I would never feel particularly attracted to these sorts of sexual games. Although I now understood the immense sexual power of one partner giving up all control to another. 

***********

In the early morning we joined the surveillance crew in their room and we had a leisurely breakfast while May recounted to everyone everything that she had told me earlier in private, and much more. Our gang of officers and federal agents had many questions and each answer she gave led to a dozen new questions. Her knowledge of the events surrounding of this particular crime syndicate was extremely comprehensive and she was able to recount their recent and past criminal activities with excellent detailed first hand knowledge.

Her information was priceless, and she could be assured of star witness protection treatment, a new safe identity and a comfortable life at Uncle Sam's expense in some secluded new community. Her recent past life, her association with Allison under the control of the crime syndicate was much less pleasant to hear but provided me with some essential past history and valuable details for how she could possibly be safely extracted. 

May had to return to the Velvet before noon, to start her duties of the day, but not before we had extracted and recorded the critical information she had given us. I dropped her at the front door of the club just before Noon and we made plans for me to next visit her at the club on the following night, Friday. I gave her my fictitious new business card with my faux medical conference hotel room number written on the back of it in case she had an emergency and couldn't get free again. 

A few of the smarter Feds, realizing things were moving incredibly smoothly pretty much without them, started to play nice, and became much more cooperative and started giving everyone some much more practical assistance. I spent the day playing doctor at the medical conference and actually learned a few interesting surgery tips that I hadn't been taught at either Goat School or EMT training. I resolved to demand a bigger training budget with some travel dollars so that I could start attending a few of these conferences on a regular basis. 

I exchanged golf tips with equally clueless duffers, drank a few too many margaritas (it had been a long tough night) and actually made a few friends worth keeping in contact with. As I mentioned before, it had been a pretty good day. 

In fact I felt the happiest now that I had in quite a long time, maybe even years. I had a great dinner with a few 'colleagues', then had a few more tasty 'ritas and sadly declined the offer of overnight companionship from a drop dead gorgeous EEN&T doctor, who had to be wearing the shortest and lowest cut little red dress I'd ever seen in my life. I really was too worn out from my all night lion taming of May and was pretty sure I was 'too pooped to pop'. She took the rejection quite well and moved on to other conquests. 

Truth be told also, I do not like or approve of screwing obviously married women, even fabulous looking ones that are 1000 miles away from their hubby and kids that couldn't be bothered to even remove her wedding bands. I didn't like being cuckolded as a fiancée and I'm sure the other husbands would feel the same way. She wasn't lonely for long and had soon found comfort in the arms of a noted proctologist (also married, according to his own wedding ring). I went up to my room tired and alone. After muttering a few updates aloud for the benefit of my ever listening invisible ears I fell asleep almost immediately. Naturally, of course, that is when things started to get weird and our hitherto successful plans once again turned to brightly polished turds. 

**********

Sometime shortly before dawn I awoke to the sound of someone speaking in my room and the feel of cold steel as a gun was pressed against my head. 

"Wakeup Doc, the Boss wants to see you."

Damn It! This wasn't quite the way we wanted things to go! They should have have waited to made contact with me in the night club the next night. May would have told them that I'd be back again, and when. Impatience is never a good sign, especially when dealing with criminal masterminds. At least I had made the point of loudly arguing with my thug abductor so that my unseen ears would at least have some details about the shit hitting the fan, but he wasn't a man of many words, just pretty much "Get dressed and let's go, no more arguing, the boss wants to see you." Well that was better than nothing I guess.

Riding in the back of the car, not mine, driving to points unknown in the pre-dawn darkness, I felt it was a good time to review everything May had told me. I was now pretty much on my own, with no backup plan or any way of contacting anyone. The cavalry probably wasn't going to be coming for me, at least not anytime soon, even assuming they could find where I was. I was left to my own devices and wits. Ouch, that thought wasn't very comforting. I shut my eyes and again considered all that May had said earlier.

In short, May's previous lover Alfred had been one of the head bookkeepers for a large international criminal organization commonly called the Syndicate. As she served him utterly as his devoted slave they had no secrets from each other and his secrets were safe with her because even under threat of death she would never disclose the secrets of her Master. Accordingly, she knew exactly where all of the Syndicate money came from and where it went to afterwards. Every single penny of it. Alfred had died several years ago, in a hail of gunfire with several other syndicate members, allegedly from the guns of a rival Mexican drug gang who wished to expand into the San Diego area; the invaders were brutally and bloodily repulsed. 

May was relocated by the syndicate to one of their operations in Seattle, specifically managing one of their brothels with mostly grade C talent, but in reality she was just about as much of a prisoner as they were. There she met and befriended Allison and, when she was transferred back to the San Diego operation to be the "Mom" for the even lower 'D' grade Velvet girls, she brought Allison along with her. Since she was trusted and had a little more freedom of movement, she began a plan for escape but she needed outside help. Learning of the story of Allison's past, she began to consider that I was the best potential rescuer for the both of them. Since May could occasionally leave the club to shop for necessities for the girls, she began to research anything about me she could discover, and over the period of a few months, had discovered my new email address and sent her note to me. May might have cultivated and constantly acted the part of a dumb blonde but there were indeed a few live brain cells still kicking in the head of hers.

The real beauty of the Syndicate's operation of the Blue Velvet Club was that it was an obvious glaring eyesore that was ideal for attracting law enforcement attention. I say ideal, because that is what the club was designed for, to be a smokescreen to keep the authorities attention focused there, where no major Syndicate business ever occurred, rather than the secret places where the real business did take place. That had been my gut impression of the place myself, it was little other than a big 'mummer's play'. The Blue Velvet could be raided by the police and DEA daily for years and they would never find a thing remotely incriminating. Most of the real business and the day to day operations were handled from an old sewage plant on the north side of the bay. The FBI, DEA and SDPD had all fallen for this trap and had been watching the wrong place for years, convinced that the Blue Velvet was were the action was. 

Even the workers, particularly the working girls (all there of their free will, except for Allison), knew next to nothing about their bosses or the businesses that they ran. Even if captured, Allison had been 'conditioned never to speak of the Syndicate or the Club' according to May, thus she was safe there. Most of the girls were too aged or worn out for employment elsewhere and willing sacrificed their liberty in return for a little security. If the Syndicate main operations were the Major Leagues, this club ranked somewhere around the bottom Minor League Class "A." Some new girls might rise to be 'promoted' to "AA" or even "AAA" operations elsewhere and older ones would fall downwards. Girls who disappointed the bosses at the Blue Velvet, "disappeared" to even seedier clubs south of the border that were of the lowest rank and status in the organization. 

"The ones who failed to satisfy the bosses there," May said, "were never seen again." May had spoken of a certain ranch in Northern Mexico owned by the local head of Syndicate operations there that contained at least hundred graves, if not more.  

This was apparently the place Allison had found herself at with her idiot ex-boyfriend kidnapper the day after they had crossed the border in Mexico. Staring into two shallow graves, one already filled with the body of her ex-boyfriend and kidnapper, and the other one to be for her if she did not submit herself to them. She told May later that if she had been even remotely sober at the time she would have requested and taken the bullet. 

Three days of forced nearly non-stop drinking by her ex and the stress of the trip had confused and addled her. She submitted to her new captors and for the next few years fucked men, women, dogs, donkeys (and once even a horse) under a near constantly inebriated state, moved from club to club until she found herself sent off to Seattle to work as one of May's whorehouse girls. They became fast friends; they had much in common, and each felt that they had lost something irreplaceable, the one true love of their lives. 




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 03



May had tried to wean Allison off of the bottle but Allison had no will at all to resist the bottle's call to her. She ate little and her health was noticeably deteriorating. She no longer needed to be forced to drink, feeling she had no hope left, she had re-embraced the bottle as if it were her last remaining friend. She was quite prepared and content with the idea of just drinking herself to death, since there was no other hope of escape. The relocation to San Diego, if anything, hastened her decline. Allison's eyes were turning yellow, a sure sign of liver failure and May began hearing rumors that Allison would soon get shipped back down to Mexico for her last months. 

She even overheard one comment about "sending her to the Ranch instead." This was the final jolt that spurred May into activity and her decision to contact me, possibly a bit too late.

I'll avoid repeating all of the encyclopedic details of the men who ran this Syndicate and the heinous crimes they committed. May named many of these men for the Feds. She spoke for hours that morning of their habits, their strengths and weaknesses and all of the terrible crimes they had done or had ordered others to do in their name. They were smart men, educated and rich beyond the dreams of avarice. Names that appeared as beneficiaries to every major charity and non-profit foundation well known and respected at the highest levels of society. 

They bought and sold narcotics and women and traded them all over the West Coast, not just for the money but for the power it gave them over peoples lives. These were not men that could be bargained with, nor people that any appeal to decency or mercy would have any meaning. I now considering my emergency plan W now (plans D-V all sucked), but it wasn't any better. 

I was going to get fucked and not in any pleasant or delightful way, either.



Eventualities: Allison Ch. 04



Just at the crack of dawn, the driver stopped long enough for my captor to put a dark heavy hood over my head, and then we drove some more. Eventually I heard the sound of a large metal gate opening. I could smell the fresh sea air and heard the sound of a few gulls. No bets, this was probably the old sewage plant that May had spoken of. 

Taken inside, my hood was removed we walked seemingly forever down repeated flights of stairs, across catwalks and finally down a long sub-basement corridor with irregular lighting. Finally at last we came to a shut metal door with a well-armed rifle-toting thug guarding it. I was immediately admitted into a fairly large and well-lit room with no other doors and no windows. I think once this had been a living area for the plant's maintenance crew but it definitely now served another grimmer function, interrogation. 

Hanging tied and suspended from pulleys on the cement ceiling, feet dangling a foot off of the floor were the nude and wretched forms of both Allison and May. Neither of them were moving… not a good sign at all. Unfortunately for the next few moments I had problems of my own.

I was order to strip, which I slowly did, my clothes, faked identity papers and the roll of Fed cash were place on a table. I had spent most of my personal pocket money last night at the bar. I've never been in habit of carrying much cash on me. I was then handcuffed with my hands behind me and for at least the next hour I had the pleasure of being beaten, kicked and punched by a pair of sadistic goons without necks until my skin had a nice rich purple glow all over and my teeth were all thoroughly loosened (none lost, thank heaven for small favors). 

I briefly considered trying to get a kick or two in myself to restore a little dignity but the facts were that I wasn't going to win this particular fight anyhow and I should save my strength for later in case there was a fight I could win. Plus making these two goons mad seemed like a really bad idea at the time. 

When they had judged that I had bruised their knuckles enough, they dragged me over to a metal chair and sat me down facing the suspended Allison and May and secured me to the chair. I took a few minutes (ok, rather more than just a few minutes) to recover, and started to look around the best I could with two rather swollen eyes that didn't seem to want to work or focus well. Foggy or not, I didn't like what I saw at all.

Allison seemed to be in the best condition at the moment, but she was none too healthy to begin with. Her eyes were closed and her head hung down and her body was utterly limp. She didn't even seem to breathe; it was so slow and seemed slightly irregular. She had been well beaten and whipped all over with professional precision and didn't look like she could handle much, if anything, more. At least she was alive.

May I was much less sure of, and until I eventually heard her emit a bloody air breath gurgle and she quivered ever so slightly. She also had been worked over by professional sadists and for a very long time. The phrase beaten half to death was not just an expression. I guessed that they had only stopped beating, whipping and cutting her when they feared that she would expire on them. There was a frighteningly large pool of blood and urine under her and a slow but steady blood drip seemed to emit from her rectum. Definite internal damage... not good at all.

A metal medical table, covered by a clean white sheet, was nearby and in the far corner was a large chain link security cage maybe 8' square suitable for locked prisoner storage. There was a metal trap door in the center of this floor with a heavy iron ring that explained the fair smell of sewage. This must be where the bodies were dumped afterwards, in the outbound sewage drain into the bay. No other doors, no windows, no chances of anyone anywhere ever hearing our screams. 

I discarded Plan W, shut my eyes and prayed for divine inspiration for a workable Plan X. Otherwise it was obvious that none of us were going to leave this room, at least alive anyway. Apparently we were all heading for that last swim in San Diego Bay after all.

Time passed slowly, minutes seemed like hours. I rested the best I could, the beating had taken enough out of me that if I hadn't been tied to my chair, I'd have probably fallen off of it long ago. I checked on the girls regularly and they at least seemed no worse. Allison was now twitching and occasionally emitting a moan but wasn't quite conscious yet. Good let her rest and recover if she could. May's slow blood drip never stopped but had slowed down just a fraction. She was now deathly pale. 

Time continued to crawl.

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

Eventually the door opened and an older well dressed man entered the room with two armed goons discretely by his side. This was one the big bosses, I guessed. He gave curt orders to have the women taken down and they were unbound and dragged off to the holding cage, still unmoving and unconscious. He pulled up a chair and straddled it, sitting facing me, looking me over. 

"Do you know my name, Mr. Peter Wells?" He asked. I said I didn't, and he then hit right to heart of the situation. "Why are you interfering with my business and exactly what is your association with these two women - why did May contact you?"

This was not a good sign, my cover was obviously worthless and any lies that I could even begin to conceive of think of seemed less than useless. The man was smart anyway and probably knew enough that nothing less than 99% pure truth was going to have even a hope of saving us. I also caught the emphasis he placed on 'exactly', so I took the deepest breath my bruised ribs would let me manage, looked him direct in the eye and I unloaded with both barrels, figuratively speaking.

"Alright, Allison, my fiancée, was kidnapped about five years ago outside her apartment by her loser of an ex-boyfriend who wanted a hostage for his escape to Mexico, just one step ahead of the heat. He cuffed her to his car and poured booze down her throat until she was a helpless puddle by the time they reached the border. The useless asshole then proceeded to piss off one of your drug dealing associates who planted the worthless shit into a shallow grave. He was no loss, but it was decided that her flesh was slightly worth more alive rather than dead. So, for the last few years she's been dancing, stripping and fucking in your clubs or whorehouses while we've been searching for her. Nasty things adventures… make one late for supper!" The man relaxed just a little. I was sure he could read me like an open book and would know of the slight hint of flummery on my part. 

Taking this as a good omen of hope I continued, "It wasn't until May contacted me that I had any idea where Allison was, and I still didn't know where she was until the other night when I found her in the Blue Velvet. My intentions were to somehow obtain her release. I have some money, as you have undoubtedly discovered and I would have spent every dime if necessary to recover her. 

I have not the slightest concern or interest in your business arrangements. My one and only concern was, and remains, the health and well-being of the woman I love. May was her friend and my only association was her was when she contacted me with Allison's whereabouts." All absolutely true statements, not a drop of duplicity anywhere. 

The boss relaxed some more, smiled and for a moment I thought he might even laugh but then his face tightened up and he asked one final question. "Alright and well enough… then you will have no problem at all in telling me where May has kept the money? Tell me where the fifty million is and you can leave with Allison now, unharmed with my personal pledge of safety."

Fifty Million? What the fuck? What money? And why did he think I might even have the slightest clue to its whereabouts? Now I knew we were truly and utterly doomed.

I think he recognized that my surprise was indeed utterly genuine. I hadn't the remotest idea there even was any missing money, let alone where it could conceivably be. May had spoken of many Syndicate activities and had seemingly withheld nothing from her questioners, but never had she uttered a word about any money of her own (or Alfred's), which made me suddenly realize the true situation. 

Being the Syndicate accountant, Alfred and May had been diddling the books and skimming off of the top of the endless money flow for their own little private retirement plan. It's a cliché, but why are all mob accountants always a bit dirtier than even the murdering thugs they work for? They made the usual mistakes of getting a little too greedy and not knowing when to say 'enough', and pull their disappearing act. For them there was always a fatter pig just waiting to be slaughtered, right over the horizon, and of course they stayed too long. 

Alfred was killed, murdered; apparently without giving out his secrets. They let enough time go by to give May the false sense of security that her actions were not being as closely watched, and they waited for her escape attempt, and her recovery of her ill-gotten loot. May was being followed everywhere, even to the library the day she emailed me, and copies of her message to me recovered (probably from the computer's cache records, according to our resident HFD computer geek that I asked about this later). 

Prepared with the foreknowledge of my true identify, they had undoubtedly been watching me too since the moment May and I left the club that night, and probably saw May entering and leaving the other motel room, obviously speaking with law enforcement. She was doomed the moment she walked back into the club, and so was I, apparently.

The boss, thought quietly for a moment, stood up and started to turn away from me and uttered these last words. "Then you are no longer of any usefulness to me"

He departed from the room, taking his two bodyguard goons with him. I fully expected to be shot or stabbed and then flung down into the sewage hatch, but to my surprise I was roughed up a little bit more but without any meaningful enthusiasm, and was then dragged over to the security cage. Allison and May were soon cut down and were tossed inside with me. The cage door was locked and the last of the goons left the room. We seemed to be all alone, but I doubted it. 

These folks were too clever and seemed to want that money too badly. I was willing to bet any sum that there was a microphone and/or a camera hidden nearby ready to catch our every word. That's fine, I didn't have any secrets at this point, and wasn't really in the mood to talk anyway.

Triage time. Allison was ok for now and still unconscious, her wounds were largely superficial. Now for the first time I had a good look at what I had thought was her butt tattoo, but instead turned out to be a 2 inch long brand mark into her flesh of a stylized letter "M." 

May on the other hand needed medical treatment ASAP. There were a pair of old very thin blankets on the floor, and I tore some pieces off of the end of one and tried to bandage the worst of May's bleeding wounds and then wrapped her the best I could with the rest of the blanket for at least a little warmth against shock. 

As I finished, May cracked one eye at me and said "Thanks Doc, looks like we're fucked, doesn't it. At least I've been well fucked. I came like a banshee while they were whipping me. I've never been worked over so well before in my entire life and I almost enjoyed parts of it." 

She smiled and shut her swollen eyes but not before I replied, "May, I don't know what sort of game you've been playing, or why, but I'm too angry at you right now to care and unless you feel like telling us what this business is about some missing fifty million dollars and, why we are now somehow involved with it, I couldn't give the slightest shit. If you can't help this situation then just shut up." She did. 

I wrapped myself up in the other blanket and held Allison close, under other circumstance, I would have been thrilled and ecstatic with holding her close to me again (especially nude) but this was neither the time nor the place. I hurt in more places than I could count and I was so terribly tired. I fell asleep with her in my arms almost immediately.

***********

I felt like I had slept for hours, and I awoke almost entirely pain-free to the moist sensation of a warm mouth engulfing my rapidly stiffening cock. Before my eyes were open, I assumed that it was May sucking me and I was about slap the head away when I opened my swollen eyes in the nick of time and saw that the woman sucking my cock was Allison! She was still unsteady and had a hard time holding her head properly to suck up and down on my cock. She was mostly over the effects of whatever they had drugged her with but she wasn't nearly mentally all together yet. She gave up suckling and instead forced herself back upwards to lie against my chest, her now smaller breasts pressed against mine. Her nipple rings were cold at first from the chilled subterranean air, but warmed quickly. We began to slowly and softly talk.

She had prayed for this day to come for longer than she could recount. She had prayed for her white knight to ride in and rescue her. This wasn't quite the rescue she had hoped for - but it would do. We cuddled and gently reaffirmed the love we each had for the other. It had been almost fifteen years since I had last held her, and it seemed like only yesterday. 

Her hand began to caress my cock and it responded at once, I was softly kissing her pierced nipples (I had to admit that they were attractive) when she made a most startling demand. "Peter, while we still can, I need you do something for me before we die. It's important, more important to me than you can realize. I need you to fuck my ass, please fuck my ass now. Please." 

I whispered that we were surely being watched and was this really the time? But she was adamant in her quiet pleading and nearly in tears so I acquiesced – it wasn't like we had much of a future anyway. She rolled unto her back (she didn't have the energy or the coordination to get on all fours. I raised and spread her legs and entered her cunt to get a bit of lubrication first. We fucked conventionally for a few minutes and she again begged, "Do my ass, please." 

I tilted her legs a bit further back and entered her ass smoothly until I could push no farther. Sensing no discomfort on her part I began to deeply fuck her ass in earnest. It was looser than I had remembered it but it had undoubtedly received a good deal of attention in recent years and was well accustomed to taking cocks probably even a good deal larger than mine. 

"Oooh, yes," she whimpered, "Fuck my whore ass, cum in it, fill my slutty ass with your cum, please cum in it for me." How could I resist such an invitation, if I was going to be soon killed I'd go out with a bang so I might as well have a good bang first and filled her ass with the last cum load I was every likely to have. I was about to roll off of her when she hissed, "Now bring it over to me, let me suck your cock, I need to taste my ass on your cock and clean you the way I once used to." She did just that and how. 

Resting together afterwards she explained, that she had been forced to do so many sexual acts for strangers that in order to keep some faint semblance of her sanity she decided, that in memory of me and our love, she would never again suck on a cock right after it had been in her ass. That way, there was always one act of "love" left that couldn't be perverted in memory by the other things she had done to survive. Ass-to-Mouth was Allison's one last remaining mental barrier and, by performing this act out of love for me, it marked her as being mine once again. She now once again belonged only to me and was mine forever regardless of whatever happened next.

I was speechless at this, and we held each other in silence for a very long time, until once again the door opened. The boss returned, accompanied this time by three guards, one of which stayed by the door while the other two unlocked our cage and dragged us back to the center of the room by the covered table (and close to the sewage disposal trap door). We were arranged on our knees on a row, Allison, then May, last me, hands all tied behind our backs. This was it; I was prepared for and expecting the worst. 

Allison could barely keep upright on her knees and still wasn't focusing very well. May was fully conscious and she had her game face on. Any secrets she might have were going with her to the grave. I figured I would be executed first then Allison and finally May in a last effort to make her speak. The boss had a similar but different plan. Holding a .45 in his bare hand, with one of the armed guards in front of us and another in back, I saw no chance to overpower him or affect any sort of rescue. We were done for. 

The boss spoke, his gun pointed directed at me, but spoke mostly for the benefit of May. "May, there is little point in continuing this charade much further. You would not show or tell us where Alfred has hidden our money. Frankly you will be pleased to know that we believe there is no limit to the amount of pain or suffering you would tolerate or endure to keep your precious secret. You would happily die first, even if it would set your friends free and their lives spared. But what would you tell them on your deathbed, would you really let the secret die with you? Lets find out." With one swift movement he fired the .45 and shot May right in the stomach. 

Other than head wounds, the nastiest wounds for a medic to treat are abdominal ones. The stomach, intestines and bowels are tricky areas to repair. Before modern antibiotics the odds for survival for even a clean gut wound were at best one in five. Unless she could be gotten to a hospital immediately her odds weren't even that good, especially with all of the blood loss she had suffered earlier. The boss had another surprise in store for me and with his free hand he yanked the cloth covering the nearby table off to reveal a full surgical kit. The thug by the door dumped my possessions off of the larger table that they had been placed on and dragged it to the center of the room, where there was the best light.

"Ok, my would be Doctor, let's see you operate. If she dies in the next half hour, you and your bitch will join her." 

Keeping his gun in his hand, he sat down in chair to watch. One of the thugs cut my bonds with a large knife and unceremoniously picked up the bleeding body of May and dumped her (not particularly gently) onto the makeshift operating table. Allison remained bound and kneeling in place, probably not completely comprehending what was now taking place. 

I opened the wound which wasn't bleeding nearly as much as it should have been and got down to work. It was Army Medic 'Goat School' all over again, with a simple pass/fail test. If May died, so would Allison and I. Now I was not just a highly trained and experienced EMT Paramedic, I had to now perform surgery as if my life depended on it, because it did! I started immediately to work.

***********

Time passed in a flurry of vague but frantic activity. I was operating in some odd zen-like state, with my hands moving as fast I as dared, clamping broken blood vessels and trying to clear the wound cavity enough to see the full extent of the damage. My concentration was interrupted about ten minutes later when there was a loud banging on the door outside. The boss was summoned and a short message delivered. He then rushed from the room taking two of his three stooges with him. I now only had one guard to deal with, and he seemed to be edging closer to better watch what I was doing. Curiosity was replacing alertness and an idea in desperation came to me as he edged almost up to my shoulder.




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 04



"If you want to look, you can… but not there, you're blocking my light. That's better… and can you hold this skin flap open so I can get some more light here to see what I'm doing? Yes, thanks, much better." It was much better, May was now relatively stable for the moment and my guard had switched his gun to his off hand and it was now not aimed at anyone. 

It was child's play to cut his jugular vein on his throat with one smooth stroke of the scalpel that I had hidden in my hand the moment he again became distracted by looking into her wound with fatal, but fascinated curiosity. 

I grabbed for his gun hand and he was too surprised to raise it and shoot. Forcing him to the floor I tried to keep his arms pinned until he bled out, which thankfully didn't take long. He did reflexively fire off one round that ricocheted off of the floor (much to close to Allison for my comfort) and then hitting the far wall near the cage. 

When he had no pulse, I grabbed his gun and ran to Allison to cut her loose. I had had patients die on me on many occasions, in both my Army and civilian EMS careers, but I had never before taken a life in anger. This act did change my life forever, being one I would have much preferred never to have ever done and it caused me a little bit of later guilt. Still, given that choice to make, I'd do it again… every time.

Releasing Allison's bonds, I pulled her onto her feet but she could barely stand. I shook her as hard as I dared and gently slapped her cheeks a few times to try to get her a little bit more alert and spoke firmly at her while I walked her toward May's operating table. 

"Allie, you've got to snap to it, now. I know you're hurt and your head isn't thinking right but I need all of the help you can give me." 

She nodded, shook her head a few times and tried to get herself into mental gear. I checked May, she was still stable but her wound was filling up again with blood. I grabbed Allison's hand and gave her a small sponge and made her understand that I needed the wound open and clear. As almost an afterthought I remembered the guard's body and quickly drug him over to the sewage door and with a little effort opened it, shoved him in and closed the trap door. The extra blood seemed to fit right in place and I doubted anyone would notice the difference. 

I shoved his gun partially under May's back and hid the handle with a bloody bandage. Allison and I now had serious work to do.

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

On that long distant past vacation road trip, Allison had spent much of the frenzied return drive reading out-loud to me from my medical textbooks. Thank goodness that particular testing phase of my training involved chest and abdominal wounds so that Allison had learned a thing or two by osmosis while she was reading out loud to me. As she assisted me now the best she could, I was astounded to find that she actually remembered little bits and pieces of what she had read and she smiled at me as we discussed the irony of the situation. Relatively soon we had May patched up enough to be beyond immediate danger. 

May even opened her pain filled eyes once to look upon us with hope and she held our hands tightly before she passed out yet again from the pain and shock. I was just putting in the last final temporary closing stitches when the big boss man returned alone and in a bit of a frazzle. 

"Where is the guard?" He demanded?

I shrugged and said, "He got called out of the room, I assumed he was with you." I finished the last closing stitch and place my hand on the blood soaked bandage covering the gun hilt and prepared to act in an instant. His gun was pointed at me and, unless I could get a distraction of just a second or two, I didn't feel good about my odds of getting a shot off before he would. I was at an impasse and waited for something to happen. 

The boss seemed uncertain and confused and very much at a loss as to what to say or do next. I got the definite impression something somewhere had gone very badly wrong and that my keeping May alive for the last half-hour or hour or so was actually the very last thing that was currently on his mind. He seemed to finally make some sort of decision and had just taken a couple of steps towards us when there came another loud knocking on the door. 

He partially turned away from me and his gun hand started to swing towards the door. This was the momentary distraction I had hoped for. With one swift movement I drew my hidden gun and fired three rounds into him. I don't think he ever knew what hit him and he was dead by the time that I got to his side. 

Oddly, this particular killing caused me no future moral discomfort whatsoever. I picked up his unfired gun thinking that at least now I had the means to shoot our way out to safety. 'Twin .45 justice ala The Shadow', I thought to myself, and then looked up to face down the gun barrels of the two mostly unlikely people I ever possibly could imagined, Navy Gal and Tiny!

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

I must have looked like something from a bad 1960's British Hammer House of Horror film. Naked, covered nearly head to toe in blood, waving two guns, with a carved up body on a makeshift operating table and a drugged out (but still cute) nude blonde zombie assistant, who also drenched in blood. Thank God, no one took any photos. 

They cleaned us up the best they could. I found my clothes and we wrapped Allison and May the best we could in the two bloody blankets and sheets. A medic soon arrived with a stretcher for May and we started our way out of the building as a group.  

From this point on things on were pretty anti-climactic. I had guessed that Tiny was probably an ex-SEAL, but it was a real surprise to discover that he had known 'Navy Gal' (Tammy) well from those days. The two had stayed in contact over the years. I think they liked each other more than either would ever admit, and after Tammy had heard me mention Tiny's name when we were reviewing Allison's history at our planning session, she called him in Lovett immediately. The caught up on old history and then traded notes on Allison. He was on the next plane to San Diego, arriving while I was playing my cover at the medical conference the previous evening. 

Once everyone heard that I had been snatched from my hotel room, the Fed's got their itchy trigger fingers going and started to bring in their SWAT and Action teams. Tiny and Tammy loaded up for bear and got themselves prime ringside seats for the show. 

How had they located us? Well, May had mentioned the old sewage plant so that had given them a good location to start with, and with the use of an ultra-quiet military chopper full of detection gear they got a firm lock-on on my wad of Fed funny money, close enough to pretty well pinpoint us to within a few feet inside the building. The rest was just a fairly straight forward textbook SWAT assault and hostage rescue operation. They went in shooting a few hours before dawn (I had been a prisoner for just about a full day) with fortunately no good guys killed or seriously hurt. Hurray for SpecOps!

There were, unfortunately, just enough bad guy holdouts left and still shooting that it took much longer than any of us would have liked to get the LifeFlight medical evacuation chopper in and the girls off to the hospital. I was going out on my own two feet with Tiny and Tammy, thank you very much, and kept my acquired pistols handy for anyone that felt contrary about it. Unfortunately, I lost them both nearly immediately afterwards as 'evidence'. I was driven to the hospital and checked over completely and other than two cracked ribs that needed taping up, I was in pretty good shape, but would be eating soft foods for a few days until my teeth tightened up again. The girls were much less well off and were both together in an ICU ward under some serious security. 

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

My doctors grudgingly released me from medical care around supper time and I headed off immediately to see the girls. I had received numerous compliments for my treatment of May's bullet wound from several of the doctors at the hospital, and even their ER Chief had come to pay me a visit just to shake my hand, saying that he couldn't have done a better surgical job himself. It was the highest praise, and it was sincere, but it now felt hollow. 

I was refused admittance to their room by the armed guarded and things were about to get ugly when Tammy showed up and she added me to the approved visitor list. Together we then went in.

May was in the first bed, looking a bit less pale and had tubes running in and out her just about everyplace there was to put one. May wasn't expected to live the night, several infections were already rapidly progressing unchecked in her chest, lower intestines and colon area (one of her tortures was that she had been enthusiastically sodomized with a large plumbing pipe wrench). She also had a considerable amount of internal organ damage, due to broken ribs, both hips and other assorted bones. She had lost an awful lot of blood for much too long and now with a brand new gunshot wound no amount of hardcore antibiotics was going to be able stop any of the various infections in time. 

She wasn't going to live the night and she knew it. 

Allison, wearing her own collection of IV tubes, was sitting on a chair by May's bedside, her jaundiced eyes teary. Seeing me she fairly leapt up onto her feet and and shuffled over to kiss and greet me. After a moment, seeing Tammy was present as well, she moved over to give her a big hug and several kisses, the last hard one to her mouth. In reacting, Tammy did a surprising thing, she opened her mouth letting their tongues meet and mingle for a moment and she reflexively cupped her right hand around Allison's left breast, caressing it just for a slight moment before catching herself abruptly, and then breaking physical contact with Allison. I tried pretending I hadn't noticed, but Tammy's nervous eyes caught mine. I winked at her and then sat down on the other side of May's bed. It certainly appeared that Tammy was either currently lesbian or bisexual, not that I cared. I did make a note to myself and have a little cautious talk with Tiny sometime.

Taking May's hot and feverish hand, I sat in silence for a good long while. No one else had much to say either. They brought in dinner for us all but no one had much of an appetite. At length, May's eyes opening and she looked at me in a puzzled sort of way for awhile and then, as if she had reached a painfully long and difficult decision, spoke to me in a weak but clear voice.

"Well that was one fine fucked up plan we had! I'm not going to live to see morning so get used to the idea and stop all of this boo-hooing, how is a girl supposed to get any rest? Pete, go back to the Velvet club and get my bag, you know the one I'm talking about. Get it and bring it here to me now… and be gone in the next two seconds or I'll shut my bleeding pie hole and die in silence. What are you still here?"

I wasn't; Tammy and I were already heading out the door. She had her own car at the hospital, a nice sleek red Chevy Camero convertible, and the look she gave me hinted there was not the slightest chance that I would I ever be allowed to drive 'her baby'. I wasn't that chauvinistic anyway by a long shot, and her presence on this trip was going to critical anyway as I doubted I could have gotten into the Club by myself. I'm sure it was now closed for a detailed inspection by the Feds and surrounded with crime scene tape. 

The trip did give Tammy and me a chance to talk a little. She did still work for the Navy but was technically now Civil Service attached to NCIS. Not a bad gig, especially with all of the military time in service counting also as Civil Service time. It also took care of the "Don't Ask – Don't Tell" potential problem nicely. 

Yes, she did 'sometimes like girls too.' I assured her that was just fine with me since all of my best girlfriends seemed to be very bisexual and I had learned to handle that jealousy issue quite a long time ago, often to my benefit. I gave her a little wink and she got squinty eyed at me and returned to pay more attention to her driving. Pressing my luck, I then asked her what her relationship with Tiny was and I thought she would have a stroke. 

She slammed on the car's brakes and pulled over to the side of the road and screamed at me for five full minutes, threatening me with every known form of pain and fear that she could conjure. 

I laughed, and said "I thought so. Have you ever told him that you cared for him?" She raged and denied and prevaricated but I kept smiling at her and put on my best 'imperturbable' act. Finally she answered, "No, not yet… but I will." She then restarted the car and we drove on in silence.

As I expected, SDPD had the club closed and cordoned off. The odds were, despite the lack of evidence or not, this club would never be reopening. A few uniformed officers remained watching over things for the night, but admitted us upon seeing Tammy's badge. I had my fake Doctors ID back but I resisted the urge to flash it too. It was a matter of minutes to find May's small room in the back and get her bag of S&M gear and toys from under her bed. 

I took a few extra minutes and searched for the room where Allison had been kept. I was sure it would have been lockable from the outside and after a few false leads one door seemed especially promising as it was padlocked from the outside. The lock yielded quickly to a kick from my boot. There wasn't much to look at; there were two small beds on each side of the room and a small armoire full of clothes in the middle. The clothes on the left side seemed to be a fit for Allison, her roommate clothes sizes seemed a bit too large and quite a bit too short to be a good fit. I gathered what few clothes and items she had into a small suitcase that had her name on the inside. Under her pillow I did find a surprise, a small Hopi Kachina doll I had bought her years ago on that eventful vacation trip. It seemed to be the only item she had managed to keep over all of these years; she had always kept it in her purse for good luck. It was extremely worn out with most of the small feathers now missing and the paint largely rubbed away. I knew without a doubt that she had held this doll and prayed for salvation every night of her long captivity. Holding it now I was also moved to tears.

Taking nothing else of significance we left the club and we drove back to the hospital in hurried silence. I had seen (and used) the contents of that bag and didn't know of anything remotely important enough in it to be worth the trip that we had made. Tammy had carefully searched it herself and confessed herself to be none the wiser either. 

We got back to the ICU ward about ninety minutes after we had left. May's fever was worse but she still had a bit of life left in her eyes and she perked up a bit when she saw her bag.

"Ok, good. Pete take out my collar and put it on me. I want to go out wearing it. I've got to look my best to meet Alfie. You can have it again after I'm gone, but you have to bury me with it, everyone agree?" We all nodded. 

"Fine." she continued. "You know of course Allison's liver is cooked - she knows it, I know it and you know it. Without a transplant she's not going to see Labor Day, let alone Christmas. The doctor says that my liver is undamaged and quite good and healthy. It's the only clean living I ever did and I want her to have it, no ifs ands or buts. I asked Allison's Doctor to run a comparison blood match with mine and while it's not perfect, it is close enough and available now… immediately. I've already signed the patient consent donor form. It's a done deal, no further discussion. Agreed?" 

Dead silence and then pandemonium reigned. No one was actually against the idea but it did come as a surprise from out of the blue. It was probably the first and only unselfish act of May's entire life, but as far as I'm concerned that evened out our books. I have often wondered since exactly what sort of afterlife, if any, May and Alfred went to. They apparently did an awful lot of shitty things in their life but maybe just this one little bit of good karma would be enough to save them. I don't know. I also knew that with Allison's documented history of decades of alcoholism she stood less chance than an ice cube on a hot August Houston pavement of ever getting approved for a donor liver in the normal transplant system. Everyone agreed.

"Ok, that's established then. Next, I want you both, Peter and Allison to hold hands now and vow that you will never leave each other again. I've seen thousands of fucked up relationships but I've never seen two people that just need to be with each other together for the rest of their lives. Face it kiddos, you're stuck with each other. It's ok to disagree and fight a bit… oh, Pete keep my riding crop, you might want to use it on her occasionally. But if either one of you even thinks about leaving the other again, I am going come back as a very angry ghost and haunt you both!" Allison and I kissed, and we were in full agreement.

May then whispered to me her one last and final Condition, and I agreed. She was in a lot of pain now and could barely keep her eyes open or remain conscious for very much longer, but she gave each of us individually (even Tammy) a long lingering kiss goodbye. 

She was smiling and looked quite at peace, and uttered these last words to us, "I love you all." All was quiet for a very long time and then she said quite suddenly "I do believe, I do believe, I do believe…" With that she shut her eyes and drifted into sleep, which after a few hours became a coma. She died peacefully just about as the first light came into through the windows. Allison told me later that Tinker Bell, Peter Pan's vindictive pixie friend, was May's favorite childhood character.

Within less than an hour of May's pronouncement of death, Allison was under sedation, wheeled into an operating room and received May's fresh and quite healthy liver. There was no organ rejection and she recovered well growing in strength with a healthier looking appearance every single day. Still it was going to be a long recovery and they were going to keep Allison in the hospital for at least several weeks due to her poor overall health, until they could be certain that her new liver would not be rejected.

I never left her side for more than a few moments. I did have to leave to go to May's funeral and it did take quite some persuasion to make sure all of her final wishes were fulfilled. She was dressed in her coffin appropriately for her reunion with her Master Alfred, mostly nude except for her corset, with her hands properly fastened behind her back, her highest heeled boots, her biggest butt plug (with a long pony tail) in her ass, a huge flexible ultra-realistic dildo wedged deep down her mouth and throat, a fat vibrator buzzing away in her cunt (plus several boxes of spare batteries (talk about Egyptian style grave goods!), and of course her collar was affixed to her throat (but not before I had another lengthy look at it).

Much later when the abdominal surgery scar for the liver transplant had healed Allison had a tattoo of Tinker Bell placed over it to always make us remember, even for just a moment, its donor.

**********

A few weeks later with Allison well into recovery we began to make our plans for the immediate future. We had exchanged nearly all of the critical stories of our separate lives over the last few years and I mentioned my long relationship with Myra and confessed that it would be painful to break our relationship completely off. More than just our sex life, I relied often on Myra's friendship and superb judgment. To my utter surprise, Allison took a far different approach to the issue. She was not the slightest bit jealous and was in fact eager to know everything about her. 




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 04



She especially wanted to know how we had fucked and how Myra liked it. She was enthralled at some of the tamer stories I told her of our sexual exploits and wanted more and cruder details. When I mentioned the occasional three-ways with Myra's former girlfriend, Allison nearly leapt up in her hospital bed. 

"That's it, I think I love this woman too… she's going to be my best friend as well! What's her phone number, I've got to talk to her, and how soon can we get home so I can meet her?"

Allison wormed Myra's home phone number out of me and phoned her immediately. I had called Myra about once a week since Allison's recovery to keep her fully abreast of the latest details. She always sounded happy for me but I kept getting the feeling that something was wrong and there seemed to be an odd tone in her voice. 

Allison and Myra chatted like old friends nearly from the start and talked seemingly endlessly. Their first call lasted for over an hour and it seemed that they spoke at least once a day thereafter; sometimes it seemed for nearly half the night. There was going to be one hell of a long distance phone bill.

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

One early afternoon, the day before Allison's planned release from the hospital, I came rather quietly into her room to find Tammy also paying her daily visit, and on the speakerphone was Myra. My arrival seemed to surprise Tammy quite a bit and I thought that Allison's bed sheet got adjusted upwards quite suddenly. Tammy seemed nervous and wouldn't meet my eyes as I kissed her cheek hello and then I stooped to properly greet Allison, giving her a hard smooch and a quick tit squeeze, that felt like she was naked under the hospital sheet. Unusual, she usually wore a t-shirt with a bra now in bed and sometimes shorts, rather than the uncomfortable hospital clothes. 

Tammy was also noticeably hiding her right hand. It was no bet, that if I lifted the sheets I would find lipstick marks on her breasts, a very wet bare cunt and Tammy's fingers would be quite sticky with a unique feminine smell. The two women had become very friendly during the last couple of weeks, and both were enthusiastically bisexual, and if they hadn't done anything before now it was only due to lack of opportunity during Allison's recovery from surgery. But why was Myra listening in to all of this? The sexual tension was so thick in the air that you could cut it with a knife. 

A devilish impulse struck me and I couldn't resist. Sitting down on the bedside in front of Tammy I took her right hand and kissed her fingers. As I suspected they were moistened with Allison's vaginal juices and I licked one cunt scented finger clean. 

"Nice new scent," I complimented Tammy. "I like it, and love the taste too. I think you should wear that more often." 

I thought Tammy was going to faint on me, at the shock of being 'caught' and I couldn't help but notice that she was wearing a loose tank top today, was also braless and had several extremely hard poking nipples plainly visible. I wondered for a second if I raised her top I would find a different colored set of lipstick marks there. She was wearing shorts (tight ones) so I quit my speculation on if she was pantyless as well. Obviously I had interrupted things much too soon. No matter, I'd let them finish in a bit right where they'd left off and the interruption would probably make things a bit more fun for them anyway. 

I said hello to Myra, and her voice sounded a bit husky too, probably masturbating at her end of the phonewhile listening; the perverted little minx.

It was actually perfect timing since I had a bit of news myself and this saved a separate phone call to Myra later. Tammy was pretty much already family to us already. I made sure the door was closed and delivered the bombshell. 

"Ok folks listen up, we can only have this conversation once and once done nothing can be undone, so we need to do this right the first time." This got everyone's attention, getting their minds off of soft tits and wet juicy cunts, at least for a few minutes anyway.

"What if I was to say, I think I know now exactly where Albert had stashed the fifty million dollars in stolen crime money and where May had hidden the information needed to retrieve it? Do we want to be the ones to find and keep it?" 

Now, that got their attention and started a verbal free-for-all that ended in a surprising fast consensus among all four us. Scary, four people can't usually ever agree on what to put on a pizza, let alone something a huge and mind boggling as potentially having free access to fifty million dollar in cash. 



Eventualities: Allison Ch. 05



Fifty million dollars. 

No one wanted to turn it over to the Feds, even any of locally stationed ones we were fairly comfortable with. It wasn't their money; they had done nothing to earn it. They had never even dreamed of its existence and they would probably only waste it senselessly if they ever got their hands on it. There was agreement that a reasonable case could be made for seeing that SDPD got at least a piece of it. Officers had died and been hurt in the line of duty fighting these guys, and at least a chunk of the money was from Syndicate crime activities in their area. Ok, I think they deserved a slice.

It was unanimous that this money was probably so stained in blood that it could never be washed entirely clean, but maybe it could get put to some good use anyway. Tammy didn't want a penny of it, nor really did Myra. I didn't want it for myself much either; I made good money buying, fixing and reselling houses and my current regular HFD salary alone was more than ample for Allison and I to live more than comfortably. There was just one remaining issue stuck in the back of my mind - what legitimate compensation would a judge or jury offer Allison for a civil judgment against the assets of the Syndicate to repay her for her years of servitude and unpaid prostitution? That case would never get heard in any courtroom… but that didn't mean that she wasn't entitled to something for her ordeal.

My attitude about the money boiled down to this. Allison had been kidnapped and subject to emotional and actual rape directly due to the intentional actions of the members of the Syndicate. She had lost several of the best years of her life, faced physical and emotion ruin, and she was very likely to require psychological counseling and assistance for the rest of life. 

They owed her something. What would be fair? 

We kicked this around for awhile and then I had everyone write down a number on a piece of paper. I had Myra name her figure first and then Tammy, I and last Allison revealed their numbers. We discarded the highest figure (Tammy's) and the lowest figure (Allison had written only $1 - God I love that woman!). We split the difference down the middle and it was still a frightening sum of money. We then agreed that the entire remainder would go to establish and perpetually endow the "Alfred and May Foundation." SDPD would be the first benefactor and would receive a large anonymous grant. We hugged and kissed to seal the deal. 

***********

Now that we had apportioned the fortune we hadn't actually found and claimed yet, I arose and said to no one in particular, "I'm hungry. I think will go grab some lunch downstairs in the cafeteria and it'll probably take a least an hour. Oh I'm sure of it, definitely an hour or more. Then, Tammy can you come with me to run an errand or two? You'll have to get redressed first though." 

I gave everyone a conspiratorial wink and loudly blew Myra a kiss over the phone before leaving the room. I asked the floor charge nurse if they could give Allison a bit of peace and quiet for awhile with no interruptions as the ladies were trying to work out some serious lega. She agreed and wrote a note on their door's whiteboard for them not to be disturbed until after 3 p.m. Perfect! 

To kill a little time I used the bathroom, combed my hair a few times, checked my smile, washed my hands a second time and then decided I'd given them at least another five minutes for them to restart what they had been doing before I had interrupted them earlier. 

After waiting a total of fifteen minutes, I snuck back to their room, cracked the door a tiny fraction and took a peek inside. Yep, they had restarted where they had left off. Allison sheet was off exposing her cute delectable nude body and she was suckling on Tammy's now topless left tit (very nice tits by the way) while her hands were groping for the zipper of Tammy's shorts. Tammy was sucking loudly on Allison's right breast and had all of her fingers inside Allison's super wet cunt, her thumb caressing Allison's erect clit. I could plainly hear Myra's voice giving instructions to her obedient performers and from the tone of her voice she was indeed rubbing her clit as hard and fast as she could. As much as I greatly enjoyed the scene I had promised them an hour's privacy. I quietly re-shut the door and went downstairs and had my delayed luncheon. 

When I did return just before 3 p.m. and peeked once again quietly into the room, I discovered the ladies still engaged in their amusements. Allison and Tammy were locked in a deep sideways 69, lost to the world eating each other to what must have been at least their tenth orgasm each. Never had these two women looked more beautiful! 

Entering swiftly (before knocking) I went to the bedside and gave each woman a surprise kiss (deliciously cunt flavored) on the mouth. I playfully slapped Tammy's cute bare ass and handed her clothes. 

"Hurry up good looking and get dressed, we've got places to visit." She wiggled her inviting looking cunt off of Allison's teasing mouth and very reluctantly got up and started to get dressed. She wasn't nearly as embarrassed as she ought to have been.

Getting a much closer look at Tammy's nude body, I decided that she was very high grade dalliance material indeed, but if she was going to become Tiny's girl I didn't want to do anything more than just look and admire, without a direct and blatant invitation. He probably wouldn't object to Allison's handling of his merchandise, but I won't take that chance myself. Myra howled her frustration at the other end of the phone; she had been just on the verge of coming again herself when the party was interrupted. 

Tammy finished dressing and we left right afterwards. I gave Allison another kiss on her cunt soaked mouth, gave a well nibbled tit a squeeze, and told her I loved her and would be back soon. She called me a bastard, but with a smile and hint of pride.

Tammy and I went to my rental car (yep, I still had one checked out along with that nice hotel suite I'd hardly seen in weeks). Uncle Sam was apparently still very grateful for my help. Tammy hadn't said a word since we left the hospital room, so before I put the key into the ignition I turned to face her and gently touched my hand to her shoulder. 

I told her I had not the slightest objection to what she and Allison had done; it appeared to me to be nothing but an act of love and comfort between women that were very fond of each other. She had no cause or need to hide anything EVER from either one of us. If she and Allison ever desired to repeat their experience, just do so. Right in front of me was fine, heck, if they even wanted to they could do it right on our lawn in broad daylight then I'd set up a lemonade stand to sell drinks to all of the onlookers. Tammy laughed and laughed. She had known I would not be offended, but was used to conducting her romantic affairs rather privately, secrets and old habits died hard with her. 

She thanked me for being her friend and asked if she could be my friend and perhaps lover as well. She was NOT committed to Tiny (their peculiar relationship continued to spin in circles and he was now back in Lovett). In fact they had never once had sex and, despite nearly 20 years of history between them, had never gotten much beyond 2nd base. She admitted having a few frigidity issues and in fact had actually never had full penetration sex with any male. She did enjoy dildos, vibrators and, once, even a strap-on fucking from an old girlfriend. I decided that this was definitely another Myra project - give her all of the facts and let her genius get to work on the right solution… and for me to stay as much out of the way as possible.

We sealed our eternal friendship with another hug and kiss, then a much warmer kiss that which soon involved frantically intermingled tongues as I got to enjoy the last tastes of Allison's cunt. I remarked on this to Tammy and she blushed all over, but admitted she was becoming rather fond of the taste too. We laughed and kissed one more time and drove off before the situation got any further out of control. 

Cars are swell for deflowering teenaged virgins at drive-in movies, but less appropriate for 38 year old ones. I needed to talk to Myra first about this issue anyway. Also any further delay could prevent completion of our critical errands. 

Good God, I just realized as I drove off, I'm starting to acquire a harem!

**********

As we drove I explained my deductions concerning the whereabouts of Albert's hidden loot, and the clues May had indirectly left me. She could never quite bring herself to completely disobey her now dead Master, but since she had knelt in bondage to me (however relatively briefly) she owed some me some slight consideration and had hinted in the strongest way she could. 

The key, figuratively and literally, was in her collar or rather carefully sewed inside the leather. I had noticed upon close detailed examination that the top stitching of her leather collar was slightly different and a bit newer than the bottom stitching. When unraveled, a small safety deposit box key with 'CB" was found carefully concealed inside. Checking a listing of local banks, I found that Coastal Bank fit the initials, and that is where Tammy and I now headed.

Inside of the safety deposit box, there were three sealed envelopes, each with Alfred's carefully written comments and contained in total two more safety deposit box keys, for different banks in the area. The last envelope contained a folded business card from an overseas bank, with a hand-written account number and password "I Believe in Fairies" written in Mays handwriting on the back. Here was Alfred's & May's stash; the treasure that he and May had given their lives to amass and then protect, even with their lives.

The closest bank was not far from the hospital and was in fact quite near the hotel I had briefly stayed at for the medical convention. With a key and a smile we were admitted into the security box storage area but passed by all of the normal consumer small boxes and into a heavily secure area that handled large commercial and big family accounts. Our key led to a very large wall mounted bottom drawer that was probably big enough to hold a dead body. Surely there wasn't THAT much cash in there! Fortunately that wasn't the case, instead we seemed to have hit upon Albert's 'insurance' records. 

Here was a copy of every major financial transaction that the Syndicate had made during the last ten years before his death. There was enough evidence here to blackmail his bosses if he chose, and certainly more than enough to be the protected star witness if the Feds ever grabbed him. 

It took us the rest of the day to review and sort this pile of paperwork, but there was a reward waiting for me. I found a photocopy of a handwritten receipt that a "J. Douglas had paid $6,000 to purchase one 'entertainer Allison B. from a certain "M," delivered on this day and etc." I saved this and gave it to Allison later that night. It's not everyday you find a Sales slip for your fiancée.

She choked back more than a few tears (clearly some very bad memories there), and remained quiet the rest of the night and needed me to hold her while she slept. I usually did anyway (I made a note to myself to find out more about "M"). She later had it expensively framed along with a newer sales receipt selling a certain Allison Blair to one Peter Wells, which she hung proudly over the center of our bed. She jokes that it gave her a proven pedigree while most visitors, seeing it for the first time, usually don't get the joke but we never explain it to them.

It was decided that this large collection of boxes would be given to SDPD for them to get the credit. There was enough paper trail here to incriminate hundreds of people (clearly Albert's intention) and it disclosed the whereabouts of an extremely large chunk of Syndicate money, enough to cripple their operations elsewhere for years. There were enough tantalizing leads about Interstate crime and International drug running operations to keep both the FBI and DEA happily busy for years. Good luck to them but they could do it from now on without our help. 

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

The second key was for another bank close to the airport and the container was of a slightly more modest size, just about right for a pair large carry-on bags and that's exactly what it held. That and $750,000 dollars, mostly in $100 bills, but there was a packet each on top of $20's, $10's and $5's, small change perfect for fast getaways when you don't want to attract a lot of attention. Also inside were a pair of passports under assumed names, one bearing a younger picture of May and the other a gentleman, presumably that of Alfred. 

No bets that the offshore bank account would be under these new names. This getaway money became Allison's first installment of our de facto default civil judgment claim against the Syndicate for her mistreatment.

No, I'm not going to tell you how much or little it was. She never spent much of it, even on herself, but it was her money and she deserved and was entitled to every red cent of it.

We grabbed the bags and left whistling a cheery air, arm in arm. After making arrangements for a few of our SDPD friends to 'find' Alfred's insurance files 'after an exhaustive search resulting from a tip from an informant'. Tammy even wrapped a big blue bow on the top of one of boxes and sealed it with a kiss. We had done everything we needed to and wrapped up the last loose end as far as I was concerned. 

We headed back to the hospital to give Allison and Myra (who was still on the phone) the good news. Badness had been vanquished, right had prevailed and God willing there would soon be a series of very prominent arrests. Best of all, we were a 'go' for funding for the charitable foundation and, just possibly, we had enough pocket money to perhaps pay the expected outrageous long distance telephone bill. 

Myra snorted, called me a few bad names and hinted that since perhaps she was unwanted and unloved she should hang up the phone now in a tiff. We all then pledged our eternal love to her and, slightly mollified, she said goodbye for the evening. Allison and I gave Tammy a more proper goodbye sendoff that could have blistered lips, we just barely got her pushed out the door before either one of could tear of her clothes and ravished her. She appeared quite ready for another round of ravishing, but we told her that we'd have a bit of fun tomorrow at my unused hotel suite after checking Allison out from the hospital in the morning. 

Once we were alone I explained to Allison what I had learned about Tammy's situation, so naturally we got right back on the phone to Myra, adding to our heaping long distance bill, but we soon got a practical solution from her that everyone could live with.

*********

Allison got her medical release in the morning. We were given an armload of prescriptions (some she would have to take for the rest of life) and got a double earful of medical cautions, what she can do, what she cannot do ever again (including any drinking). 

She got a referral to a top Houston area specialist whom she would have to visit weekly at first, but later just monthly. We were surprised to find that her hospital bill, which I had expected to eat a big chunk of my savings, had been covered largely in full (excepting the long distance bill of course). With a little digging Tammy found out that the FBI had politely asked the hospital to handle us pro bono with a vague hint of a possible fat government medical research grant. I don't know if they ever got the grant but I added the hospital to near the top of our own grant list for our new Foundation.

We arrived at my hotel suite about noon and surveyed our array of suitcases. All I had was my one bag of clothes, but Allison had her small suitcase of old clothes, the new bag carrying our overflow, her prescriptions and the Foundation bag of 'travel money'.

Since it is patently impossible to get any decent rest or quality sleep in a hospital, especially with two of us squeezed close (alas clothed) in a hospital bed. We saw my huge king sized bed, did the only thing that popped into our minds. We jumped right into bed and fell fast asleep without any sort of fooling around. 

At about 5 p.m., when someone started banging on the door and wouldn't take silence for an answer, we very reluctantly dragged ourselves out of bed. It was the best sleep I'd had in over three weeks, and probably even longer than that for Allison. I threw on some shorts and opened the door to reveal Tammy as our obtrusive knocker.

She was dressed to play with a pair of high heel shoes, a short leather skirt that showed acres of delicious creamy thigh, a white silk blouse unbuttoned halfway to heaven that clearly displayed her braless large dark areolas and very hard nipples through the thin fine silk material. Naturally I had to kiss her hello. 

While doing a thorough job of that I noticed that her hand was caressing the rising bulge in my shorts and one of my hands had easily found a way inside her open shirt to cup one of her delightful breasts. Allison woke up enough to discover our newcomer and, in a very unsubtle manner, sat up and stretched to uncover her own very bare breasts. We moved the welcoming party over to the bed so Allison could also properly greet her friend and remove some her very unnecessary clothing. 

Things were about to get extremely interesting when another loud knock on the door occurred and two loud voices calling for us. Damn! The Girls grabbed their clothes and ran for the bathroom to dress. I still had my shorts on and quickly found a presentable shirt that wasn't too wrinkled (you live for a month out of a suitcase and see what your shirts end up looking like). 

This new collection of well-wishers were pair of narcotics officers from the SDPD that we had come to know well; one had been at our earliest skull session here in this room with the Feds my first day in town. 

They were a couple of good Joes and had brought a tray of snacks along with a few bottles of wine for me and some expensive Italian mineral water for Allison (that she soon grew hopelessly addicted to). They were joined a few minutes later by a few other officers of our acquaintance (this time from Vice) bearing a case of beer and an intimidating array of bagged snacks. Everyone asked about Allison and I said she was in the bathroom. Someone then asked if anyone had seen Navy Gal (most folks hadn't known Tammy's real name either) and I replied she'd gone into the bathroom with Allison. 

That got a few strange looks until I commented, "Don't you guys have wives or girlfriends other than the blow-up doll kind? Women always go the bathroom in groups, sometime even in entire herds. They live there! That way they can gossip about us in smug secure feminine superiority while in their most sacred of hideaways." 

The married guys all nodded that this was indeed a very true statement. 

More folks arrived (Major Case, the guys who had received Alfred's belated Christmas present) brought along even more food and drink and the start of a great party was had by all! Except for two extremely sexually frustrated women who couldn't wait for the last well-wisher to hurry up and leave. Some folks did leave early, but even more new folks kept arriving and soon the locally stationed Feds started to make their appearance. 

Everyone was worshiping the ground we walked on for all of the goodies they were now getting from Alfred's insurance policy. Careers were about to be made, and with minimal legwork work they were going to be able to decapitate an entire criminal organization with hundreds of high profile arrests. If they could pull it off their careers would be set for life, with nice corner offices waiting for them in DC and reservations for them and their wives at the best Georgetown cocktail parties. They showed their appreciation by bringing some superb restaurant catering and some decent top-shelf booze, and if they tried to take over and play the big shot hosts for the party, no one complained or interfered and a good time was had by all.




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 05



At the high water mark, around 11 p.m., we must have had nearly a hundred partiers including, to my surprise a group of local EMTs who had somehow gotten the word of my exploits and upon hearing of the party through the grapevine, had crashed it. This was dangerous and not at all good. This meant that the local hospital ER folks had run their mouths to some visiting EMT's about what a great job one of their own had done. I warned them that I had really wanted to keep a low profile to keep my gal safe and sound in the future and I think they got the hint to keep my story to themselves. It was still very possible for bad ears to find out what had happen, and learn of some of the names of folks that were involved. They were fun guys and even brought an employment offer from their Director of Medical Services to see if I was interested in staying in the area. I definitely wasn't. 

There were a few other females to keep Allison and Tammy company and conduct 'girl-talk' with, particularly a few local women police officers and one or two other female feds other than Tammy, but mostly just wives and girlfriends. Otherwise I'm certain, at some point, one of them would have exploded and started to ravish the other, guests, on-lookers be damned. Most of the guys were happily talking shop and 'gun porn'. We started to hint around midnight that Allison was straight from the hospital and really needed her rest, so finally by 1 a.m. our last guest was gone. 

The three of us were finally alone but everyone was way too tired to do much about it. The living area of the suite was a disaster area we hadn't the heart to tackle tonight so I left a $20 on top of the table as an extra tip for Housekeeping and I left the mess for them to deal with it.

***********

Allison, Tammi and I all stripped naked and we got into bed together, with me in the center with a lovely girl on each side. We kissed and caressed each other a bit, but frankly no one had the energy to do much of anything else. Allison and I had not made love in over ten years, except for the odd interlude while locked in the cage, and we were getting in fact quite desperate in our desire to want to do so. Not to mention that Tammy was loudly hinted that she wanted to be finally deflowered. 

But we were all just way too tired. We called it a night sleeping like logs until mid-Saturday morning when Housekeeping woke us up. The sight of two naked women (running for the bathroom again) and a barely dressed man didn't surprise the two older Hispanic ladies in the slightest. I guess this happens all of the time in their hotel suites and they just smiled and winked at me. 

I smiled back giving them another $20 each for their efforts and joined my ladies for a nice hot group shower. When we eventually crawled out of the shower, our room was clean, our sheets were freshly folded down for us and there was a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door (why hadn't I thought of that last night!). Squeaky clean, wide-awake and ready for action, I joined the ladies back in bed, it looked like they were definitely starting without me. 

Allison and Tammy had finally gotten the privacy that they had been wanting for weeks (excepting for their phone sex bout with Myra) and I let them get up a good head of steam going before I cautiously began my participation. Kisses flowed like wine and our hands wandered freely between cocks, tits and cunts. Allison made the first major move and began kissing down Tammy's flat sensitive belly until she reached her sparsely haired public mound (really just a thin runway strip). The kisses became licks as Allison's tongue gently covered every inch of mound and the sides of her bare lips, avoiding her clit entirely. 

I began licking and suckling each of Tammy's delightful nipples, enjoying my first ever taste of them. Periodically Tammy would demand a deep mouth kiss and I would tease her, just as Allison was doing, pecking gently everywhere but her mouth (discovering that her earlobes were ultra sensitive and she nearly came just by my licking them).

Eventually Tammy could stand it no longer. She spread her legs as wide as they would go, grabbed Allison's head, forcing her mouth into her cunt offering up every inch of her sex for the pleasure of Allison's tongue, pleading for her clit to be licked, now! 

Meanwhile, back up in northern parts, I was continuing to alternate short kisses, ear and neck licking, all over sampling of her breasts but as Tammy cried out in her first orgasm, she grabbed a hold of my hard cock and began to stroke it and then pulled it towards her. "Let me taste you," she pleaded. I moved up closer to her reclining head, guided my cock up to her lips, but just held it there. I wanted her to be the one making the final decision to take me past her lips and into her mouth. This was something new for her, and I wanted her to be in control the entire way, to take things at her own pace and not feel rushed or hurried. I didn't have long to wait.

Tammy began kissing the tip of my cock slowly, then moving her lips so that she could kiss the glans and then the undersides. Finally kissing all the way down the shaft to my own sparse pubic hair. Then she discovered my balls, having never played with a pair of them before she found this immensely fascinating, exploring every inch of them with her lips and then her tongue. Even well showered she found the faintly musky smell increasingly irresistible. She buried her whole head into my groin and began licking in earnest, sucking each testicle gently, bathing every inch of them with her tongue and once satisfied they were clean to her standards licked upwards on the shaft of my cock, swirling her tongue around the tip a few times, she then engulfed my entire shaft deep into her hungry mouth. She was a beginner, but what she lacked in technique she made up for with enthusiasm. 

"Suck him," Allison hissed with a mouthful of cunt, "Suck him dry, make him cum all over your tongue and fill your sweet mouth with wisdom." Allison redoubled her efforts on Tammy's clit and wasn't more than minute before Tammy came so strongly that she fell back on the bed utterly unable to move, quivering under her orgasm. I snuggled up next to Tammy and cupped one of her breasts and gently squeezed it as I leaned over to kiss her. On the other side, Allison gave Tammy's clit one final lick and kiss and snuggled up, fondling her other breast and joining her lips and tongue to ours. 

We snuggled a little while as Tammy enjoyed the afterglow of her orgasms, but Allison was no where near ready for a rest. Pushing me onto my back, she coerced Tammy into activity and together they kissed down my stomach to my still rock hard cock where they took turns sucking me with Allison caressing Tammy's neck and hair while Tammy sucked me and alternating with technique demonstrations while she sucked me with Tammy watching closely. Finally Allison withdrew my cock from her mouth and kissed Tammy deeply and then offered my cock to the waiting mouth of her lover. Allison's lips remained close to Tammy and while Tammy sucked (with better technique, the girl was a faster learner and just needed practice now) she whispered increasingly nasty exhortations to her lover to, "Suck him hard and drink his cum, to feel it filling her mouth and throat." Soon I could take no more and started to cum, Tammy not quite expecting my allegedly slightly bitter taste, started to gag and pulled her head back in reaction. 

Allison held her in place and kissing her ear and cooed loudly, "Drink all baby, take it all for me, lover girl, but don't swallow it yet." Tammy held firm and I spurted my last drops into her waiting mouth. I had a pretty good idea what was going to happen next. Allison raised up Tammy's face, she kissed her forehead and lovingly caressed Tammy's cheeks, the side of her head and hair, leaned forward and planted an open mouthed soul kiss that I'm certain lasted for decades if not entire geologic eras. They kissed until every speck or drop of my cum had been shared equally between then, as if it were the most precious substance they knew. I think this was the very moment that they bonded into soul sisters, and all that happened afterwards was just the final frosting.

Allison cleaned up an errant drop or two from Tammy's chin and then together they made sure my cock and balls were licked spotless clean, their tongues often merging around my cock and intertwining to share me fully and savor every last remaining residue of my discharge. After a final kiss to each other, parting kisses to my temporarily sated manhood, the girls snuggled up together and Tammy started her campaign to provide Allison with her long overdue orgasmic release and achieved her first success in just moments with her tongue flashing across Allison's clit with four deeply probing fingers inserted into her cunt. Tammy didn't let Allison rest for long, giving a quick kiss on each nipple (and a tug of each ring), and a fast one to her lips, she turned herself around planting her sopping wet cunt into Allison's very willing mouth and diving back herself into the open dripping cunt that eagerly awaited her return. 

It was one of the most beautiful 69's between two loving women that I had ever seen and I admit to having seen a few. They started out in a frenzy, licking each other as fast as they could manage but as each girl came the other would slow their pace, becoming almost leisurely until slowly but surely they would build up the tempo once again to yet another monumental orgasmic release. Their cries of mutual lovemaking filled the room unceasingly. I could only watch but with admiration and joy at the love the two were now sharing. I could patiently wait and watch with pleasure and delight as it seemed as if Myra's plan was working perfectly.

When eventually the pace of their lovemaking seemed to slacken, I moved over closer and began to give my own attentions to the Sapphic couple. Tammy, being on top, was getting the lion's share of the attention as I gently ran my fingers over her neck and back, then caressing her tight athletic ass cheeks, even running a delicate finger over her tight asshole and down into her drenched cunt, before my fingers then make the reverse journey back to her head. With each transit I lingered longer around her ass and cunt giving each a more thorough caressing and exploration. Tammy's moans of pleasure became increasing louder as my fingers probed her inner parts for the first time and, as I inserted a finger into her virgin ass, she groaned and lifted her ass to meet and welcome my finger. Soon with a finger deep in her ass and my other fingers rubbing inside her cunt she could take no more. Allison's fluttering tongue drove her into the strongest orgasm she had experienced so far that day and she collapsed utterly exhausted and quivering into Allison's arms but our plans were not half over yet!

Kissing me deeply, while Tammy turned her attentions to her lovers breasts and taunt pierced nipples, Allison whispered, "Baby I need you inside me bad, fuck me like you haven't fucked me in over 10 years." Appropriate, since it had been over at least that long since we had last made love (I didn't count our little interlude in the Syndicate prison cell). I moved down to spread her legs for entry but, as I was about do so, Allison whispered to Tammy, while they kissed and petted, for Tammy to get me, "Nice and hard and wet all over so that I could fuck her deeper and harder."

Soon Tammy's head was resting on Allison's pubic mound sucking me until I was as hard and wet as I was ever likely to get. "Put him in me," Allison commanded her to her girlfriend, "Watch him fuck me good a hard." Tammy obligingly took me out of her mouth, gently parting Allison's wet cunt lips as she guided my cock into her cunt and watched, seemingly mesmerized, as I slowly began fucking Allison's cunt. I felt like I was in heaven and only the fact that I had cum earlier saved me from a delightful but premature, ejaculation. That was an intentional part of our plan, now I felt like I had the stamina to put on a good performance.

I spread Allison's legs wider to provide a better view of the action to Tammy, whose head was still nestled up snugly on top of Allison's hairless mound, her mouth just a few inches from her lovers clit and my thrusting cock. After a few minutes, I completely withdrew my cock and put it up to Tammy's lips, which opened for me immediately admitting nearly my entire cock. She savored the taste of my cock covered with her lovers copious vaginal juices, and cleaned me thoroughly before I withdrew from her mouth re-entering Allison's cunt. Tammy moved her fingers onto Allison's clit and began to rub in synchronization with my fucking. This became a pattern as I began to increase the speed of my thrusting but, if I suspected that Allison was getting too close to coming, I would again withdraw and let Tammy eagerly clean her juices from my cock.

Eventually Allison became desperate for release and I sped up my pace letting Allison come to a screaming climax as she cried out her love for me that I'm sure at least half of the guests of the hotel probably heard. With her orgasm, her cunt squeezed into the tightest vice my cock had ever felt and nearly immediately I filled her pulsing cunt with cum. Upon my withdrawal, Tammy took my spent cock again into her mouth and licked me clean for a last time. As I fell back onto the bed to kiss Allison, Tammy knelt down before her girlfriends cunt and began cleaning her cunt empty of my sperm and eventually, holding as much as she could retain in her mouth, she climbed up the bed to join us and joined her mouth with Allison's. Together, once again, they shared my juices. A little rest and light petting was in order for awhile until I was ready for the final event of our scheduled plan of activities. 

Tammy remained fascinated with Allison's nipple rings and asked how and when she got them. This was a question I had asked twice Allison twice before and each time she had immediately changed the subject. I suspected that this had something do with "M," much like the mark on the left check of her ass. I've mentioned before that I had seen what looked to be a tattoo on Allison's ass in the dimness of the club. I had of course a much better view of it while in the Syndicate prison cell and it was not a tattoo. It was a brand made by a hot iron, like a cowboy would mark a calf. 

Tattoos could be removed, but "M" had marked Allison as his permanently. That's ok, I've got a bill of sale, she's mine now. Unfortunately an "M" didn't quite look like a P for Peter. W for Wells was a bit closer, but not quite right either. At least she didn't have to look at it every day; I did, and was pretty sure I could learn to handle that.

Allison remained silent for a while, but did at least answer the question. "My second owner, the one who purchased me from the Mexican gang, had rings put in all over his girls. He didn't like to see an inverted or soft nipple ever and if they weren't at least an inch long he'd attach a device to them worn day and night for months to permanently stretch them out." 

"M?" I gently inquired?" She nodded and continued her story.

"M" was considered a genius by the other senior members of the Syndicate in that he could take a scared virgin and in a few months of training turn her into an insatiable slut. Some he trained to enjoy pain, others he turned into mindless fuck dolls constantly eager for their next fuck. He worked with the weakness of the girls, if they were submissive and yielding, he could mould them into obedient pain sluts, much like May, although she said she'd never met him and she was just born wired that way."

"With me," she went on, "He saw that sober I was a frightened rabbit scared of every shadow that passed by me, but drunk, I was bold and utterly uninhibited, ready to fuck every man or woman just for the sheer joy of it." 

Turning to face me, she continued, "You saw me with a drink or two, happy and confident. With five drinks I'm a raging tigress in bed ready to fuck your lights out but with ten or more I didn't know who I was and had no control over my body or mental urges at all. I did terrible things to hurt you when I was in that condition, out of control of my body and my life. What "M" did to was to bring that terrible hidden persona out everyday into my life so that, even when on those times that I was rarely sober, my urges still controlled my body and made me obey. I learned to love sucking the cock of a complete stranger, thrilled to let them use me in any disgusting manner they chose, individuals or a party of hundreds, it mattered not to me. When I was a good little fuck doll I was rewarded with booze, which I desperately needed. If I failed to please completely, drink would be withheld from me until my withdrawal pains were nearly unbearable and I was nearly insane with desperation to be 'good and obedient'. As I've told you the only remaining free will left for me was refuse oral after anal sex. Anything else, at all, I've done it or it's been done to me. Tomorrow I may do it willingly all over again."

In a tiny voice she added, "M" made me into a perfect slut, ready to fuck anyone day or night without rest. That's now the woman I am today and will still be tomorrow. I have such little control. I think of nothing but fucking, it's not even sex or lovemaking anymore, just pure animal fucking – I'm desperate for it, much as I used to thirst for a drink and have almost no control left over myself. Fucking now occupies the very center of my mind, all that is left is the thoughts of a slut, a complete total and utterly shameless slut. When I see a stranger, man or woman my first thoughts always are how to bring them pleasure and serve them. How I got out of the hospital without raping anyone, I'll never know. I'm just a slut now. I'm terrified that I'm going to lose the very little control I've reestablished now and will do something to drive away again the man I have always loved or the woman that I have now come to love nearly as deeply." 

There was little that could be said after this and Tammy and I together held Allison closely for a long time as we lightly napped in each others arms. This "M" situation was definitely more fodder for discussion with Myra.

*********

We arose close to dinnertime and dressed in our best to go downstairs to the restaurant for dinner. I found a shirt that wasn't too terribly wrinkled and Allison found some of the newer clothes I had bought her to replace her old worn items (and former 'working outfits'. Tammy had to make do with her short skirt and white silk blouse from last night, unfortunately buttoned up a bit higher than I would have preferred, although I admit it's hazardous to be looking down the front of a pretty woman's shirt and staring at a near perfect pair of tits while eating your soup course at dinner. That could get messy and hot liquids in your lap can be painful. 

We had a delightful dinner. Allison was regaining a healthy appetite after weeks of poor hospital fare but she still looked underweight, although there was starting to be a bit more flesh covering her ribs and hip bones. The girls caused a minor sensation when they started to sensuously feed each other shrimp cocktails. When a few discrete kicks under the table failed to achieve the desired result I pulled out my last line of defense and threatened to withhold their desserts. No Death by Chocolate or New York Cheesecake for either of them. This was the dirtiest of dirty pool and Allison called me a "bastard" again (in a slightly less tone of approval than before) but they improved their behavior at least long for us to finish our meals and almost (but not quite) make it to the elevator before my Sapphic troublemakers started to French kiss right in front of lobby by the elevator. 




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 05



An older couple joined us for the brief, but very memorable trip up to our upper floor. Allison and Tammy were kissing passionately unbuttoning each other's blouses in order to openly fondle the revealed breasts. I gave the older gentleman a knowing wink and he winked right back. His wife appeared stunned and I'll never be quite sure if she was aroused or horrified by the display. They got out the floor below us (no bets that they also probably had the room under us too) and I'm sure they had a lot to talk about. We on the other hand had nothing to talk about whatsoever. 

I was the last into our Suite because I had to stop every few feet to pick up a discarded item of feminine clothing. By the time they reached our door they were both completely naked and rather proud of it. I made sure that the Do Not Disturb sign was in place and I joined my two horny little devils in bed.



Eventualities: Allison Ch. 06



My ladies, having unusual difficulty in restraining themselves, had skipped most of the usual foreplay (I guess the interlude in the elevator was quite enough) and had jumped directly into a ferocious 69 near the end of the bed. Allison was on top this time and I began to amuse myself by giving her the same neck, back, ass and cunt caressing that I had done earlier that afternoon to Tammy. As I stuck my first finger into her ass she cooed and in-between mouthfuls of moist cunt she muttered, "You're still a bastard but you're my magnificent bastard," and resumed eating Tammy with a vengeance. 

With a little effort I was eventually able to redirect a bit of their efforts and we rotated into a very pleasant three-way daisy chain. Allison still devouring Tammy's cunt, Tammy was inhaling my cock with increasing skill and confidence, while I licked and manipulated Allison's ass, clit and cunt with my tongue and both sets of fingers. Delightfully (and oh so rarely), all of us came near simultaneously. Of course, Tammy shared my creamy load with Allison and then the two gave me a long, careful tongue cleaning until my cock began to stir again with life. I knew I had just one last load left for the day (we were nearly at my record as it was).

Allison gave Tammy a last wet kiss and guided her head back down to my cock, moved behind her lover to press her breasts against Tammy's back, kissing her neck and shoulders, wrapping both hands in front grabbing and kneading her breasts. 

Tammy lifted herself up and onto her knees giving Allison freer access, while still keeping a mouth lock upon my now firmly harden cock. While keeping her left hand firmly around Tammy's tit, Allison moved her right one around Tammy's backside and, with her long fingers, began twiddling her girlfriend's clit and cunt. Breasts pressed hard against Tammy's back, Allison began nibbling on Tammy's ear and began making increasingly lurid suggestions, telling her to rub my cock all over her face, then between her breasts, back to her face and then down to her stomach. Soon Tammy was kneeling fully before me rubbing my cock across her sparse pubic hair, even brushing her clit and engorged cunt lips. 

Time seemed to stand still as if Tammy was locked in indecision as she rubbed my cock all across the entry to her virgin cavity but not yet permitting penetration. Allison had moved both hands back to Tammy's breasts and kissing her earlobe cajoled, "Feel how big and hard it is. Yes, rub your itching clit with it, rub it all over, you want it, you want to feel it inside you, stretching you, filling you completely, deep inside, making you a real woman. You want it, you want it in you now, fucking your virgin cunt and filling you with a man's cum for the first time. You want it now, don't you?" 

"Yessssss," Tammy hissed, no longer possessing any control over her lust and moved up to straddle me, nearly but not quite yet mounting me. Allison remained pressed behind her, caressing her all over, kissing and soothing her. Slowly, ever so slowly, Tammy lowered herself unto my cock, first just barely at her cunt lips, stretching them ever so gently apart. She permitted the head of my cock full admittance, then an inch of my shaft, then yet another into her virginal opening. 

There was no hymen, she had removed that long ago in her teen years with vibrators and dildos. Her cunt was the almost tightest I had ever entered, excepting for Allison's vice like squeezing of my cock upon orgasm. Finally, at last, I felt her cunt lips reach the base of my cock and, a moment later, I felt her ass meet my balls. She was now fully mounted and had taken every inch of me. Allison gave her earlobe a final kiss, got up, moved up the bed, to straddled my chest and stomach, facing Tammy and snuggling up close to her. Their breasts now mashed tightly together, their lips and tongues became one. 

"Ride him!" Allison murmured with her mouth full of Tammy's tongue. "Ride him hard, ride your cock, let me feel him cum deep inside you." Their lips fastened tightly, neither releasing the other for the duration. Having recently cum (and having had a good workout earlier), I could concentrate on just staying firmly hard for Tammy and letting her fuck me at her own pace without me being in any hurry or urgency whatsoever.

My riders shifted slightly, adjusting to scissor their legs between each other in order to squeeze their bodies even more tightly together so that now they could actually rub their two clits together. This set both of the girls off into a frenzy, the two holding each as tightly as they could, Tammy bouncing up and down riding my cock as fast and hard as she could, with each down stroke their two clitoris's meeting and rubbing together. 

Both began a long building orgasm that never quite seemed to stop and caused Tammy's cunt muscles to spasm uncontrollably. This was way more than I could take and I filled Tammy's cunt with her first ever load of cum. 

The two women collapsed, nearly motionless and just held each other close for a long time, occasionally kissing gently and offering gentle caresses. Tammy's cunt lips remained sealed around the base of my cock, holding all of my precious discharge within her. Eventually, under Allison's urging, she rolled off onto her back and let her lover first gently clean her sopping cunt, then they shared my sperm between them for at least the next half hour, they were still kissing softly when I drifted off to sleep, utterly sated.

***********

We all slept far later than we intended and most of the morning was gone when by the time we had arisen. Since Allison and I had an early afternoon plane flight back to Houston, that didn't leave much time for play. We showered together quickly but enjoyably and we were faced with the decision of having either a last "quickie" or having lunch. The women made the decision immediately for me, diving into an immediate and passionate 69.

Ok, so much for lunch… and I dived in to join them. As we had very little time, we skipped most of the foreplay and got to the serious fucking almost right away. I alternated fucking each of their cunts in turn, about a minute each before switching to the other partner. I wasn't trying to hold back much if at all and it was 50/50 as to who would end up being the final beneficiary of my load. In the end Allison was the winner (I think she cheated using her exceptionally well trained cunt muscles to squeeze me dry). After sharing my cum in their mouths, with much coaxing and swatting of cute bottoms, I managed to get the women at least half-way presentably dressed (Tammy blouse was unbuttoned to about her navel), we grabbed our bags and we left the room with Tammy enroute to the airport. 

In the elevator on the way down to the lobby to checkout and leave, I had a minor brainstorm and reminding the girls about our pierced nipple discussion of yesterday afternoon. Tammy and I were unanimous in that we loved Allison's nipple rings. Allison was less fond of them and wanted them removed soon (dropping a bit of her past in the process). 

I offered this compromise; we would remove the rings she was currently wearing, if she would consent to wear newly purchased rings of my choosing. I hinted also that if Tammy came to visit us soon she could help pick them out. This motion was passed by all members by unanimously happy consent.

We made our flight in time but not without a bit of excitement to some surprised on looking fellow passengers as Allison and Tammy made their final farewells at the boarding gate. It was a lusty farewell that involved loud tears, deep soul kisses and roaming hands that wandered underneath partially opened blouses. Folks were getting a pretty good view, several even clapped and whistled. I separated them rather forcefully, gave Tammy a good kiss that was sedate by previous comparison, we told each other we would phone and see each other soon. I grabbed Allison in the nick of time before she could plant a last farewell kiss on Tammy's other lower lips and dragged her kicking and crying onto the plane. We got a loud standing ovation from some, horrified looks from others and bemused smiles from everyone else. 

A businessman about our age, in his late 30's, asked me conspiratorially after we were seated next to each, "How long have the ladies known each other, they seemed to have a hard time saying goodbye."

"Oh," I replied breezily, "They were Sorority sisters together at Slut House, Sigma Lambda Taut at UCLA. They did 'everything' together, men, girls, entire football teams (even the water boys). Her sister Wanda works for the CIA now, 'deep' cover missions. She's being sent off on an extremely dangerous mission now, to be the lone prostitute in a camp of 500 horny terrorists. Bambi, here is miffed that I won't let her go along too and share the danger." 

The businessman was speechless, and probably would have disbelieved my outrageous story entirely if "Bambi" hadn't turned to me and snipped, "You're a bastard who never lets me have any fun. Of course I need to go, Wanda's skin always peels when she's outside and that desert sun is going to give her ass a sunburn she'll never forget, plus the silly twat never did have any sense of hygiene. She's going to get sand all up in her cunt and get another nasty rash. Probably sandpaper half my tongue out by the time I get a chance to clean her. Plus those Arab guys never seem to remember to use lube when they're sodomizing us, probably pretending we're their favorite goat and the last thing she need is another hemorrhoid operation. SO THERE!" 

She stuck her tongue out at us, pulled her arms around herself and resumed her sulking. Aghast, the businessman moved to another seat but not before handing me his business card and asking if the girls ever handled corporate parties. I threw away the card as fast a possible before Allison could get her hands on it – I definitely didn't want to give her any more slutty ideas. Our life was complicated enough for right now. 

The rest of the flight was mercifully peaceful. Allison soon got over her annoying about not being able to farewell Tammy "properly" and dozed on my shoulder the rest of the trip.

We were expecting Myra to pick us up at the airport (I had left my car at home and taken a cab on the outgoing trip) and I was not disappointed. The girls greeted each other as long lost familiar friends and hugged tight, with thankfully chaste kisses that occasionally pressed lips, but not tongues. 

Good, I needed some rest. 

***********

I was utterly surprised to open the door into my house when we got home to find that we were not alone. Tiny was there, along with a full dozen of my closer friends that knew of my history with Allison and our quest to find her. Even a couple of old nurse girlfriends had attended but after seeing Allison and me together as a pair the jealousy was palpable, and they were noticeably green with envy or regret. Most made their excuses and soon left. They knew they had lost me forever and that I was reunited with my soul mate.

Fun as it was, the welcome party did not last too long. "It's 6 o'clock now," Tiny shouted, "And we're all happy to see Allison and Pete back safe home but they're tired and have a lot to do still tonight, so anyone still here at 7 is going to get bodily ejected." 

This suited me fine. We did have a swell evening sitting around the living room and I gave a highly sanitized account of the events of the last month (no mention of Tiny's or Tammy's part in the events). Tiny showing great mercy and restraint, gently escorted out our last guest out at 7:15, bid us a good night and made his 3 hour return drive back to Lovett. Only Myra was left and from the stack of papers in front of her on the dining room table, it looked like it was going to be all business. And it was.

Allison's daily schedule was planned out for her in excruciating detail for at least the next full month. AA meetings (30 meetings in 30 days) plus daily meetings with her new "Sponsor" (one of Myra's nurses who was almost ten years sober), medical post-op checkups, an extremely complete medical physical with seeming endless tests scheduled, and then came the fun stuff… the Psych counseling. 

She had an assigned Psychologist and Psychiatrist (different breeds of animal), a Sexual Abuse Counselor (a RN who also worked for Myra) and a Group Therapy Counselor for battered and abused women (didn't quite work for Myra but was a platonic friend). All calculated, this left Allison extremely little free time during the first few weeks. Then Myra dropped the last bombshell.

"What do you mean that she isn't going to live with me?!" I bellowed. 

Allison was strangely quiet and I think I was starting to understand what some of her and Myra's seemingly endless phone calls had involved. The women had everything apparently resolved to their satisfaction and I was now being notified of the final decision as a mere formality. Allison was going to stay for at least the next three months (and possibly the next six) at a Women's Crisis Center Group Home. If she made adequate progress her next step would likely be a home or apartment of her own so she could start to build at least a little of a new life all her own.

"We've explained why." Myra said calmly. "First, Allison has been an alcoholic since the age of fifteen, that's over twenty years of bad habits that must be slowly replaced. Her transplanted liver makes it a matter of life and death that she can never, ever, take another drink. This is going to take time, even with all of the help she is going to be getting. Normally for a patient that has been an alcoholic for this long I would decree treatment for a full year and only then if they can keep a pet healthy for another additional year would I give my ok for a romantic relationship to begin. I think in this instance a year will suffice." 

"Secondly, she has been the victim of an unusually horrific kidnapping and long period of sexual slavery. At least one utter bastard has stuck his hands into her skull and screwed her brain totally up in more ways than I can count. I need to learn how and why, and see what can be fixed enough to keep her alive, happy and sane for at least another twenty years." 

"Lastly, and this mostly concerns you, is the matter that you've been treading emotional water since the day you last walked out on her, years ago. You don't realize it, but you have several questions of your own that you need to decisively answer and there is going to be more than a few hard decisions that you'll need to make."

She continued, "Now I could disregard my own years of medical experience, wave my hands in disgust and let you two try and start right back up where you left off. It will stay fun for awhile, maybe even a year or two but the complications from the issues I've mentioned will appear. There are going to be fuckups and they will get worse until maybe one day you've seen and handled too much, and you leave her for good or else you arrive home to find that she's cracked under her pressures and either pickled her new liver into rejection or else has slit her wrists in the bath. What would you have me choose?"

I felt like I had been hammered into a tiny smudge under someone shoes and felt like a selfish heel. I accepted Myra's agenda. I was tossed a small bone; weekends could be mostly ours together to give our relationship a little binding. I could pick her up from her group home Saturday mornings and return her by dinner Sunday.

We then worked out a comprehensive transportation schedule; due to her medications it would be sometime before Allison would be able to drive (her Colorado license was long gone and probably expired anyway). Like Octavius and Mark Anthony, we divided the empire between us. I would handle most of the pickup duties, especially mornings which were Myra's busiest times at her hospital. We both made plans to reduce our work schedules so that at any given time at least one of us would be available to help her. The business mostly completed, Myra chastely kissed us both a good night and left. 

We had decided earlier to hold off on acquiring the funds from Alfred's off-shore account for awhile. Tammy had wanted to take a closer investigative look at the bank anyway, and was going to discreetly see what government info on them she could find without setting off any alarms. Myra also felt strongly that this was not a good time for Allison to be dealing with money issues, even our nascent charity foundation. It was heal thyself first time, play time later. 

Our lovemaking that night was placid and rather conventional. We slept restlessly, as if we were just realizing that everything that had occurred recently was merely just another 'vacation'. It was now time for a lot of hard work with the fun parts now mostly over for awhile.

***********

How we all endured the next three months is anybody's guess. Allison fit in well with her fellow resident patients at the Women's Center and made friends easily, but thankfully no new lovers (she had been firmly warned against this – almost weekly). She seemed to gain physical and emotional strength every week but things were still a rollercoaster for her. 

The AA part of her treatment was going fairly well, all considered. She got on well with her sponsor and made enough progress that she did not have to attend daily meetings anymore and usually alternated days now, unless her submerged urge to drink was especially strong. There were more than a few nights that Allison felt in crisis and would call either Myra or myself to come and hold her (outside in the center's garden as no men were ever allowed inside).

Except for chauffeur duties, I was seeing very little of Allison and even less of Myra. Allison and I had weekends and tried to enjoy every minute of them. Friday nights I would pick her up for dinner, and occasionally Myra would come with us and then we would sometimes go to a movie but I would have to return her to the Center before 10 p.m.. 

On Saturday mornings, I would pick her up and we would do any shopping Allison needed, mostly new clothes as she regained her softer former physical frame, leaving her skeletal days (and clothes) behind. Most of her new clothes were casual (her life was still a seemingly endless cycle of doctor, psych and counseling session. Recently, she had even added a new group therapy session to her schedule; one Myra conducted herself Wednesday nights). 

Saturday afternoons were usually free and up to Allison's whimsy, occasionally Myra would join us for an outing but she seemed obviously more and more preoccupied and rarely seemed to enjoy herself much. Myra and I had not had sex, or had barely even exchanged a friendly platonic kiss since just before my departure to San Diego and my recover of Allison. It seemed to me as if she was slightly lost and no longer entirely sure what (if any) relationship we did or should have. If Allison and Myra had any repeats of their phone sex occasions it was news to me as I hadn't heard of any, but then I rarely had the opportunity anymore. 

Saturday night and all Sunday day we usually spent in bed. The sex was good, occasionally very good, but we spent more holding each other and we talked (or tried to) much more. Late Sunday, she was returned to the center and we started another week apart. 

**********

It was Allison's psychological sessions where things seemed most deadlocked. For every step forward in one area it seemed like another step was taken in reverse. Allison was just beginning to recognize just how really fucked up her head was from her years of ordeal. She began to loose confidence in her ability to control her actions at all and she feared what she might do to hurt me or others if she ever lost control. She often had extreme mood swings now as if two entirely different personas of her brain were fighting for control of her. 




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 06



This was what scared Myra the most, she told me, when we spoke one afternoon in her office at about the three month point of Allison's recovery. 

"That monster had taken full control over Allison for a long time and done horrific things to her I might not ever be able to fix even with a hundred years of non-stop therapy. His control over her far exceeds any brainwashing I've ever heard of, and created a creature that lives only to serve her masters and fuck them in every way that they desire. I can't break his controls on her and it is as if he's still there inside her head giving her orders. Allison may have been home now for three months, but tomorrow she could still easily snap and eagerly offer her body to a complete stranger or a dozen. I'm starting to run out of ideas as to how to help her."

I knew most of this already, and was certain that "M" was the culprit but Myra's blunt fear allowed me to safely guess that "M" had done a world-class piece of brainwashing on poor Allison and filled her with no telling how many secret code words that could trigger any number of hidden persona's, some possibly situational or even time triggered. 

Allison was still mentally a ticking time bomb. What a fucking mess! 

***********

On my next weekly phone call to Tammy I asked her to start shaking her major crime and Fed contacts to make identifying "M" a major priority. Alfred's goodies were keeping at least 100 federal and regional law enforcement officials occupied full time, and a great number of major arrests that ought to decapitate the Syndicate were expected shortly. 

Convictions, always uncertain, seemed to be a slam-dunk, Tammy said. "She'd be on a plane to visit us sometime Friday and would call me so that I pick her up from the airport." 

Tammy flew in on schedule and announced that she would be able to stay with us for nearly a week. It had been too long since we had seen her as her work schedule had doubled since we parted in San Diego. She was doing a great deal of inter-agency liaison work handling some secret part of the Syndicate investigation that might or might not involve "M." 

Tammy's lips were sealed and remained so for the entire visit. Usually by another mouth and tongue, a wet cunt or my hard cock. 

That night we all went to the best steak restaurant in town that I knew of (Tammy was a meat and potatoes sort of girl) and she enjoyed herself completely. Allison's food tastes ran to about anything and everything, and she loved to try places she'd never been to before. Myra did her usual fussy picky eater act and pushed her food around on her plate more than she ate. 

There was definite sexual tension at the table but, perhaps restrained by Myra's presence, Allison and Tammy limited their advances to lust filled eyes and discrete footsies under the table. Tonight they were dressed up similarly, blouses (mostly buttoned) and skirts (sadly mid-thigh). Myra wore a fully buttoned shirt and slacks and seemed quite out of place and even, seemingly, a bit embarrassed. She usually kept her eyes fixed on her plate, kept her hands mostly to herself. 

I did notice at one point, while I was returning from the rest room, that Allison was discretely clutching Myra's hand under the table while the three women talked amongst themselves. The hands separated immediately when they saw my return. Of course, when the ladies made their own rest room visit soon afterward they all three went together and stayed gone for nearly an eternity. They returned with fresh makeup (and no suspicious smudges, visible ones anyway). Allison and Tammy shared a large dessert and amazingly refrained from doing their usual act of sensuously feeding each other. 

Being a Friday night, the evening ended far too soon. Myra offered to return Allison to the Center but Tammy had wanted to see the place, so all three ladies left in Myra's car while I followed and waited for Tammy outside, which surprisingly didn't take too long. She came out alone (Myra had stayed to talk with Allison in the dayroom) and Tammy and I went home alone together. This was the first time the two of us had even been alone in a bedroom together and things were a bit uncomfortable until Tammy broke the ice by planting a wet kiss on me and dropping her skirt. 

"If you are a good boy tonight, you might get to give me my first ass fucking later this weekend." She stated with a wink and a smile. 

With a dangled carrot like that how could I resist. We had a very fun and energetic night but stopped after a pair of orgasms each, as Tammy said she had been warned pointedly by Allison not to wear me out too completely, as she might want me herself (or a certain part of me anyway) later that weekend. Sounded like it was going to be a great weekend!

With considerable difficulty I did get Tammy to admit, in a vaguely off-hand manner, that their rest room conversation at the restaurant did largely concern 'relationships' (no specifics) and that some lipstick had indeed been smudged by all three women, and together. Really? So what then was Myra's problem when I was now present?

***********

The phone rang all too early Saturday morning. It was Allison greeting us with a cheery refrain, "Wake up sleeping beauties, it's time to shop! Tammy give his cock a rest for now and hurry up and come get me!" She blew a loud wet kiss into the phone and hung up with a giggle. 

Tammy finished my good morning blowjob anyway (alas she had to swallow it all alone by herself) and demonstrated that her technique was much improved. She confessed to having had a few dates since our departure... "just for the experience". 

Any discussion of Tiny was off limits. Their on-again, off-again relation was very off at the moment. He had forgotten an appointment to call her and then they had "words" when she gave up waiting for him to call her, and called him up instead, late at night and after hearing that Tiny was not alone in his bed.

Dressing, we left to promptly pick up Allison. Myra had supposedly agreed to meet us again later for dinner. Buoyed by her girlfriends visit, Allison was in fine spirits, as her phone voice indicated. She had an active shopping schedule planned and there was no time to waste! The day was spent in an orgy of clothes shopping (Allison enjoying a rare splurge by paying from her Syndicate cash) and not usual big chain casual stuff either. This was the big time! If they missed any upscale boutique in the city I'd be greatly surprised. One look at the wad of one hundred dollar bills Allison was toting was enough to assure premium personal service everywhere they went. 

They started with undergarments, all of the finest silk of course. They sampled and demonstrated to me the finest, most exotically sheer stockings, held up with delicate lacey garter belts, revealing microscopic thongs and scrumptious crotchless panties. The fancier more exclusive shops seem to have a higher tolerance for rich perverts, and ignored scandalous behavior that would have gotten us ejected from lesser establishments, like when the girls asked if an embroidery service was available that could sew the word "Slut" prominently to the front of a particularly exclusive and expensive garter belt, and "Anal Whore" to its backside. 

The answer was, "Of course, Yes, certainly madams," without an eye being blinked. Naturally, each of my girls ordered one.

Bras were examined and largely rejected except for a few styles of skimpy demi-bras that gently supported, shaped and uplifted their mammary treasures while fully exposing the nipples were accepted and acquired in a wide range of colors for each girl. Their fashion understructure complete, we gathered all of their extensive purchases (me doing most the gathering and porting) and, after a light lunch at an exclusive restaurant in the Galleria, my women got down to some serious clothes shopping. 

Particularly they were looking for flirty, sexy 'flitting about' outfits that would display their charms, turn a few heads, but leave just enough flesh covered to incite (or was it excite) the imagination. The prize of the day was a designer silk halter dress that gave a generous view of female cleavage, exposed lots of creamy thigh, and revealed vast expanses of delicious bare shoulders and lower back. There was one for each of their sizes (close but quite not the same although they could now share clothes if needed in an emergency though). 

Allison chose the red one, and Tammy the blue. I overheard some whispered talk in the changing room about buying Myra either the green, purple or yellow matching one but neither knew her color preferences (either purple or green would have been fine . Myra eventually later did receive the matching green outfit, eyes popped out and jaws dropped whenever the three wore their 'Set'.

Were they finally done shopping? Certainly not! The worst male torment ever devised was just ahead. It was time for the women to go shoe shopping to get matches for their outfits! I pleaded for a swift and merciful death. 

They had fair success finding suitable high heeled shoes that each suited their 'set' dresses but as we stopped at one last exclusive shoe shop, the girls found the shoe of their dreams. It was the ultimate 'fuck me pump', made of rich patent black Italian leather with a stiletto 6-1/2 inch heel. They could hardly walk in them, but oh how it made their asses wiggle! Leaving without those shoes was unthinkable and each bought a pair instantly but now there was a new problem, finding the perfect Little Black Dress to go with those shoes. 

***********

We were running out of time, as we soon needed to meet Myra at the restaurant (Seafood tonight) and they had almost given up for the day when Tammy called out to stop the car and pointed me in the direction of the shop which catered to the adult entertainment trade and erotic 'club wear'. I didn't have much hopes because I figured everything would be cheap polyester or rayon, but I was pleasantly surprised to find, that there was a good selection of high end merchandise that included two of the littlest LBD's I'd ever seen in a mostly silk-blend. Even machine washable for easily removing semen and other stains. 

They tried them on, pronounced them perfect and indeed they were. Their tits were at least half exposed (especially on the sides) and the thin material left no guesswork at all as to where their nipples were. It plunged low in the front, and even lower in the back nearly to their ass cracks. The dress displayed nearly the entire length of the women's long legs and seemed to end only inches from the bottom of their asses. Careful sitting was required to avoid publicly displaying all of my lovely's considerable nether region charms. 

He-he, Allison had never seated herself carefully or 'ladylike' in her entire life even before "M" and turned all of her thoughts to sex. Tammy, once a very sensible woman was now being utterly corrupted by her lover and had taken to 'slutting out' like a duck did to water. I anticipated that a lot of future men and women were going to get treated to complete views of my loves' almost certainly pantyless and shaved crotches. 

We were now late, and had to rush to the restaurant but the girls insisted on wearing their new latest and greatest outfit.

To say that the entry Allison and Tammy made into the restaurant was unforgettable would be a gross understatement. Men were staring in blatant lust and one unlucky man got slapped by his date when had been caught staring too hard with his mouth hanging open. Women mostly glared daggers of sheer hatred but I did notice one or two enjoying a second or third look. At least one senior citizen reached for his heart tablets. 

The wiggle of their asses in those towering pumps stopped all waiter traffic, one busboy lost his balanced tray of dirty dishes entirely which loudly crashed to the floor, slightly diverting attention from us long enough to be seated. Myra arrived a few minutes later, looking good but not remotely up to the new LBD standard. 

I think Myra was at a loss as to whether to laugh or cry but she did neither and tried desperately (failing miserably) to keep her eyes off of the girls' very prominently featured nipples. He-he.

Myra's recent and surprisingly dormant bisexuality was getting a big kick start but even the obligatory mass pilgrimage to the ladies room together didn't seem to fire up much in the way of actual noticeable sparks later. I wasn't sure at all yet if I was ready to re-add Myra to my active sexual schedule, certainly not while our relationship seemed very much in limbo and I was even less sure I wanted Allison in a brand new recurring lesbian relationship at this stage of her recovery. But heck, I wanted Myra to at least act like she was having fun with the girls. 

Dinner concluded without any further drama, or a visit by the fire department to cool off the fires the girls induced in their slow sexy walk leaving the restaurant. I left a nice tip; we certainly had extremely attentive service all evening long.

I expected Myra to pull another early disappearing act but I was delighted to find out otherwise that she'd agreed to stay with us for a while tonight. Allison and Tammy each had one of Myra's hands grasped tight and definitely wouldn't take no for an answer. 

The first stop was back to the erotic clubware shop where Allison and Tammy soon had Myra changed into a LBD of her own. For today, her existing black shoes would have to do, since the shoe store had closed.

With all three girl's now suitably attired for clubbing, it would have been a waste not to wear them into a club, so we found a nice nightclub where the ladies could dance awhile and all three girls boogied their butts away, as each took turns dragging a resisting Myra onto the dance floor.

Myra and I had never gone dancing, as neither of us enjoyed it much or had much aptitude for it. I'd take an occasional spin on the floor myself to keep the wolves away. The girls were certainly attracting attention and definitely looked like they were 'dressed to fuck'. 

Sometime after 11 p.m., the women announced that they were ready to leave but they had one more stop to make on the way home. Allison gave me driving directions but wouldn't disclose the secret destination. Tammy had the largest shit eating grin, but also wouldn't disclose a word. Myra was visibly squirming in the back clutching Tammy's hand until her knuckles were white.

**********

Our destination turned out to be an extremely popular and supposedly semi-famous tattoo and piercing parlor. In an instant I knew what was up, the girls were going to hold me to my promise of replacing Allison's nipple rings. This idea suited me fine and so we went inside. There were quite a number of lookers but only one actual customer receiving work, a minor tattoo being done by an assistant. 

The proprietor was a older woman, Nancy, with over thirty years experience in the business and an exceptional reputation. She had gotten her first tattoo in San Francisco with Janis Joplin in the 1960's (there was an old b&w framed photo of the two women each flashing a tattooed tit. I liked her style and her place was ultra-modern and squeaky clean. 

I gave a go-ahead nod to Allison and explained to Nancy what I thought we were after, she then proceeded to show the girls tray after tray of nipple rings. It was a hard choice, I liked several of the choices, Tammy approved of several of these selected one, and Myra largely reserved her opinion. In the end, we decided upon a nice 14k solid gold ring of the same gauge she was now wearing, that featured a mounted small but bright ruby that Allison thought would match her 'Set' dress. Retrieving it from the car, we found it did match it exactly. 

A price was agreed upon and Nancy sat Allison down in a reclining chair (giving everyone a superb view of her smooth cunt). Allison unfastened her top exposing her breasts and smiled for everyone and placed her hands back above her head to give Nancy unlimited access to her tits, which soon had the old rings cut off and gently removed. The old rings were pronounced as also being solid 14k gold, but no one wanted to keep them and we let Nancy have them. At least here was one little piece of "M's" legacy that we were well rid of! 

Nancy checked the nipple piercing holes carefully, antiseptically gave them a good cleaning anyway and asked if she should put in the new rings or if any of us wished to do so. Tammy wanted to insert the right nipple ring for her lover and I agreed to insert the left one. This done, Nancy then secured Allison's new rings into place. This new pair could be safely removed for regular cleaning, unlike the old pair that seemed to be welded into a permanent complete circle. 

Allison reluctantly stopped showing off her new jewelry to everyone in the shop and reattached the top of her dress, but not before Nancy gave each ringed nipple a laughing kiss for good luck. I thought I we were all done but there was one more surprise still to come.

Tammy now seated herself into the operating chair (also giving us a splendid view of her pantiless crotch), dropped her top also and asked for Nancy to, "Pierce her nipples the same as Allison's." 

She had selected a near identical gold ring that featured a blue stone (which not coincidently also matched her own 'Set' dress). Her nipples were carefully cleaned with antiseptic, the alignment of the piercing carefully adjusted and with two quick jabs Tammy now had pierced nipples too! Allison inserted her right ring, giving it a lingering kiss and I again handled the left side ring. 

Now I had a pair of nearly identical pierced tit girls that were good and ready to be taken home so they could admire each other's new jewelry much more privately and passionately. 

Nancy asked Myra if she was next, but she declined saying "not today," but her voice was husky, breathing quite fast and seemed rather aroused by everything she had seen. 

Nancy gave each girl written cleaning instructions (Tammy's new piercings would heal fast, but they would seep for awhile and needed daily cleaning until fully healed), gave each girl a quick lip smooch (and fast tit squeeze) and invited us to return soon, commenting specifically that from what she had seen, both ladies were well suited for receiving any of several different erotic vaginal piercings. She whispered to Tammy that she'd "love to put a matching ring though her clit," gave her a last kiss and hug goodbye. 

Well that certainly offered new suggestions.

We invited Myra to please come home with us but unfortunately she declined our increasing direct invitations. The three of us went home alone and spent a delightful Sunday inspecting the each ladies new hardware. 

My cock was so exhausted that Tammy and I didn't even try to make love after we dropped Allison at her Center that evening. Instead we fixed a quick simple dinner and snuggled to an early sleep. 

Tammy and I fucked daily until her flight Thursday morning, but we never really had another proper three-way session with Allison joining in. The two girls did manage a few 'nooners' with just the two of them but at no other point could Allison manage a large break of time off from her schedule. This was a disappointment to all but Allison promised on Tammy's next visit things should be much better because her schedule would be much less intensive. 

I thought it unfair to make Tammy keep flying across the country to see us (even at Foundation expense) - especially if she wasn't visiting Tiny nearby at the moment, so I suggest we hold our next Foundation Board Meeting at a hotel in San Francisco (assuming we could clear Allison's schedule for a full week). This got me soundly kissed and was pronounced an excellent idea. 




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 06



The three of us met together for a last time this trip for dinner before Allison was scheduled to meet her group therapy session with Myra, whom I hadn't seen or talked to all week since our group outing Saturday night. I would take Tammy to the airport Thursday morning and Myra was scheduled to handle the transport to Allison's morning appointment. 

The girls said a long steaming goodbye in the back of the car, but there wasn't the time (or the space for that matter) for an extended 'proper' farewell. They kissed, cried, hugged and played a bit of 'stinky finger' until Allison absolutely had to leave. Tammy and I then went home and we had our own personal farewells and Tammy fell fast asleep later with my flaccid cock still in her mouth. I never did get that promised ass fuck because she left early on the first flight of the morning (to LA for a meeting) with her anal virginity still intact, an oversight which I vowed to correct at the earliest possible moment.

***********

Returning back from the airport, I realized I that I was considerably ahead of my anticipated schedule. Tammy's flight had been much earlier than I had originally thought so I was left with more than enough time to save Myra the trouble of picking up Allison, since her morning schedule was always far less flexible than mine. 

Since my return from San Diego I had been pretty much been able to set my own schedule, often going into work late and stayed even later. I called Myra's number to let her know that I could do this mornings pickup round after all but I got no answer and the phone went straight to her answering machine. It was early still, perhaps she was not yet awake. I called the Center next (they always had someone answering the phone 24/7). Allison was not there, moreover, she had called late the previous night saying that she was 'spending the night with a friend'. Odd. 

I called Myra's number again and it once again still went straight to the answering machine. At this point I was concerned, and worried why I couldn't reach either of them. 

Myra's house (in the Heights) was close by and I went directly there. Her car was in the driveway, a very good sign. But there was no answer when I knocked on the door. Her doorbell had never worked and it had been on my list of things to do for her before I went to San Diego. Her bedroom was upstairs so it was possible that she hadn't heard me knock at all. 

I did have a copy of her house key that I had on my Emergency key ring in the car glove box (and she also had a spare copy of mine somewhere, she'd used it to let Tiny and guests in for our Welcome Home party). I knocked one last time (nearly shook the hinges off the door) and let myself in, announcing my presence loudly. I was greeted with one of the greatest surprises of my life; 

I looked inside the house to see the sight of Myra finally coming down the stairs to sleepily answer the door. She had apparently dressed in the dark in a hurry because she was wearing only a t-shirt (on backwards). It wasn't nearly long enough to cover her bushy cunt and bare ass. Seeing me, she let out a loud "Fuck! What are you doing here?" 

Immediately afterwards I was greeted by the sight of a cute and very familiar nude body running out of the bedroom and into the main bathroom on the opposite side of the stairs. Even without seeing her face, the "M" brand on the ass cheek was enough to identify the person as Allison.

This was interesting. Yes, Allison nearly invariably slept in the nude (except when wearing sexy lingerie instead) but Myra never ever did. Ever when Myra and I made love she would dress in pajamas afterwards or, rarely, into a t-shirt and panties. She always wore panties. I also noticed that Myra's normal bathrobe and her spare one were both laying in a heap on the downstairs floor by the sofa in the living room, next to a pair of wine glasses and a half-empty bottle of Allison's favorite Italian mineral water. 

This really only suggested one possible conclusion, Allison had a new lesbian lover, the bisexual former girl friend and previous primary sex partner of her boyfriend. Worse, was the thought that now occurred to me, was that Myra was now apparently sleeping with one of her patients, probably the #1 No-No of the medical and psychiatric profession. (The AMA and the ASA will turn a blind eye to quacks killing patients but getting caught fucking one of them will invariably get your license yanked)

Myra continued her cries of outrage at the intrusion, until I explained for the third time that if she didn't want friends to come and check on her health and safety then she might want to answer her phone once in awhile and take the Answering Machine off auto. I also explained that I was worried when Allison wasn't to be found at the Center as expected. 

It was not inconceivable after all that our role in the San Diego rescue operation had been discovered. Especially with the imminent arrests we expected increased news coverage, some clever reporter (or dirty cop on the take) could find out a lot of details about a certain kidnap victim and her EMS Training Supervisor lover. The EMT's in San Diego might not be the only folks with loose lips that had said the wrong thing to the wrong person.

Myra was mollified, but still angry that her affair was now obvious. She wouldn't even discuss the issue with me and went back upstairs to dress, her bare ass swishing in obvious annoyance. That's fine, getting a closer look at her wet hairy cunt hair and red swollen vaginal lips with faint traces of lipstick, sealed the matter for me anyhow. 

Myra never came back downstairs and in awhile, Allison, all dressed to go greeted me with a big (cunt flavored) kiss.

We didn't talk much in the car; I wasn't quite sure what to say actually. When we arrived at the Center for Allison to quickly change into fresh clothes, she turned to me and stated, "I'm not going to apologize for anything. You knew, Tammy knew, Myra knew and especially I knew, that at some point Myra and I would end up in bed together. She was your lover for many years and she openly loved girls as well with your knowledge and approval. I have no secrets from her and I think I know a few of her secrets that she would die before ever letting anyone know, especially you." 

"Pete, you don't realize this but she loves you and has for some time but will never admit it." She added. "She would rather let you go entirely than have to watch you obviously in eternal love with another woman. That's why she avoids you now, you're too fucking happy, joy oozes from your every pore and it's killing her. She feels that she can no longer have you but through me she can share in just the tiniest little part and that's enough for her. If by fucking her I can also share even a little bit of years the two of you had together, that I could not share in, so be it. Pete, she's got some serious demons within her too, unlike mine she has spent her life putting up more and more walls to keep them contained but I don't think they're holding. When I am all well and better, we need to see if we can somehow help her. Oh, and last night was not our first time in bed together, we've been lovers for quite awhile now, almost since the very start."

Allison said no more, and ran in to change but soon returned. She spoke no more about this matter except to ask, "I hope to spend every Wednesday night and many more other nights with her from now on. Do you have a problem with this?" 

"No," I said in a rather small uncertain voice, "I don't think so. I think I really just wanted to know what was happening." We exchanged 'I love you's' and kissed and things seemed for the moment to be slightly less confusing… but when I had the chance to really sit down and think, things just seemed to be even more confusing to me than ever before.

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

Myra ducked my phone calls skillfully, avoided answering my messages and seemed to know when I was staking out her office. I literally didn't see or speak to her for almost a month, until when our next crisis struck.

Allison had finished up her period of stay with Women's Center and was considered able and ready to move out. I had utterly expected that she would ask to stay with me or at least select an apartment or house very nearby me so we could spend more time together. Instead Allison dropped a bombshell by saying that she was moving in to live with Myra for awhile. 

"It was "important," Allison said, "that I should trust them." They were working on something that should help her recovery, but they had to devote all of their spare time to this. It would hurt me now, but things should be better at the end of it all. More she would not say and we parted that day rather sadly, with less than our usual soulful farewells. 

Our time together over the next month decreased to just an occasional phone call and irregular dinners together. There were no more Friday night dinners or weekends of love making or even any just plain raw sex. All of Allison's time was now absorbed by the new 'project', and there wasn't any room for me in her schedule. 



Eventualities: Allison Ch. 07



After I hadn't heard from either of them for nearly two weeks, I determined to hunt down Myra and get some answers before I did another thing! It took me three days to track her down and I had to do it the old fashioned private eye way with a 24 hour stakeout and tailing them that eventually led me to the serpent's lair, literally.

The Serpents Lair (wasn't that also the name of a late 70's video game?) was down in the basement of the old Psych building on the Rice University campus. In the 60's wild-eyed professors with fat government grants ran testing labs down there and when this funding dried up by the mid-70's the graduate students turned this equipment junkyard into their official drinking and hangout den. With the obtainment of a legitimate beer & wine license in the early 1980's and named the Serpents Lair, this became the primary watering hole for the liberal arts and social sciences graduate students. Legal concerns shut the bar down for good a few years ago and the place had remained empty ever since, except for irregular shipments of boxes sent down for storage and then promptly forgotten about, by all parties concerned.

This place had been Myra's primary college home and she had witnessed its rise from obscurity, its heyday and final shutdown, had spent hundreds of hours here, bringing books from the library just across the street and reading until last call when the doors were padlocked. I had heard Myra mention the place often nostalgically so when I followed her car and saw her enter the building, I knew right where she was headed. As a valued alumnus, an occasional visiting teacher and guest lecturer, she had enough clout in the Psych department, to get a little 'research space' and where better than her old study den which was now only a semi-forgotten storage area?

Myra had apparently been a very busy little beaver; all of the old clutter had been moved into the corners and near the center of the room, where the old bar once stood was a large gleaming chrome metal tank, with several computer screen readouts, a printer, dials, hoses and instrument holders that seemed medical in purpose. There were wires everywhere, headphones and more still a few more individual computers, running along the right side wall on top of the original bar carpet covered bench seating that ringed 3 walls of the room. 

The floor was bare concrete, and four large cement pillars lay in awkward spots near the corners of the room. The lighting was dim and irregular, about par for a nighttime bar level. Frankly the computer screens probably gave off more light than the fixed light fixtures did. I had never seen anything like this equipment before in any hospital or military base anywhere I had ever been.

"It's a sensory deprivation water chamber." Myra said, "Completely state of the art and it allows only one or two people to handle what used to take a staff of half-a-dozen. If there is anything better for reaching an alpha state trance, I've never found it. I had to get more help and spend more money to set this up than I would have preferred but that can't be helped, time is of the essence. Your Mr. "M" was a very, very smart man and he kept Allison in one of these for a long time while giving her drugs to reshape her entire personality. I'm betting that I'm smarter, and can undo at least some of his programming. Will you go away now?" 

"Ummm, No." I replied. "We really need to talk."

"No… we don't," she snapped, "You're just mad because you're not getting laid and I am, unfortunately involving the same woman who loves us both. But don't worry about that, if push came to shove she would and will, choose you over me in a heartbeat. You're Mr Right, I'm Ms. Right now. We can yell and call each other names or you can leave me to my work and just maybe you'll get to fuck her someday again five minutes sooner than you would otherwise, so stop being a selfish bastard and let me do what I need to do."

I gave the attempt at conversation one last try. 

"Myra, I know you want to help, it seems to drive your every waking moments these days… but is sleeping with your patient really necessary and or at all helpful to the situation?"

"For the millionth time, she is not 'technically' my patient. It's technically true, but other doctors, nurses and therapists actually sign all the paperwork, and she is my friend too, not just my lover." She angrily barked at me, and added more slowly and sadly, "Things just... happened. But now we have complete trust with each other and that really seems to really help and make a difference."

I wish I could have thought of something else clever to use as a leaving line, but I couldn't think of anything worthwhile, so I just said "Ok, fine." and left. 

Now I was really sure there was something going on man speak vs. women speak that I wasn't comprehending. Under other circumstances, it would have been Myra I would have asked to get a proper female to male translation, this wasn't likely at the moment. Isn't the age long battle between the sexes really annoying sometimes?

I realized much later that Myra had said something very important that I should have asked a question or two about. It bothered me at the time but I didn't know quite why. I didn't have to wait much longer to get that answer but by then it was definitely the wrong question.

**********

Another month slipped by, things did seem to be improving, my very irregular dinners with Allison (never with Myra along) seemed to become more frequent and we established a semi-firm 'Date night' now for every Monday night. Our sex schedule, however did not improve. Weekends seemed to remain strictly off-limits and I never saw (or seldom spoke to) her during those times at all. We managed little more than a few occasional 'quickies' and one interesting (but cramped) interlude in my car. 

My mood at work, volatile these days at best, was becoming volcanic and I often thought about quitting, or loudly offering to do so to my Assistant Chief who still wanted me to assume the soon to be vacated Medical Director position when my useless boss finally retired, hopefully sometime in the next year. Fifteen years ago that was my dream job and was what I had driven myself towards my entire EMT career. More and more I became convinced that now I didn't want the job at all. 

As the Divisional Training Manager (and pretty much the de facto Director of Training), I got to do a little bit of 'good,' I felt. I could encourage and groom young EMT's with potential, get rid of the occasional bad apple, give a gentle hand with our 'burnouts' and saved more than a few from quitting. Once in a while I even managed another ride in the "box" and accompanied young EMT-I's and EMT's on a few calls for service but those occasions seemed to become fewer and farther between. 

I was alone in my office at work on a miserable Friday afternoon dreading another weekend without Allison, just staring at the four walls of my offices at what seemed to be my endless certificates and certifications. I felt at that moment that I was little more than another "burnout" case myself and I had no clue as to how I could fix it. Myra was of course all busy with her crusade to save Allison.

There didn't seem to anyone available to 'save' me.

On Allison's Monday night dinners with me she invariably seemed happy and upbeat. They were making 'real progress', she assured me, but would say little beyond that. Any mention of her current sleeping arrangements seemed to provoke acute sadness and genuine unhappiness, and was guaranteed to cause an early end to the evening. 

I bit my tongue some more, which was getting to be a new constant habit and we both tried to keep our conversations light and cheerful. I could tell that there was so much that she wanted to say to me and genuinely resented every moment that we were apart and invariably her parting words to me were a variation of "Soon, my beloved, soon." 

***********

It came as a surprise to me when she no-showed for one of our dinner dates, right after having received a final 'all's well' from her liver doctor, whom she would now only need to see much less frequently for checkups. Also, Tammy had phoned the previous Friday that nationwide raids of all of the identified Syndicate members was scheduled to start that weekend, and the Monday morning AM news station was reporting 'sweeping raids on a nationwide drug syndicate'. It looked to be the start of a great week.

I wasn't unduly disturbed by Allison's absence though until it became Wednesday evening and I had not received any telephone callbacks to the messages I had left either her and Myra. No one was answering the phone at Myra's house and I began to become concerned. 

When I called Myra's secretary, Pamela at her office first Thursday morning, I was told that, "she had received a strange sort of phone call from Myra on Monday morning directing her secretary to cancel all of her appointments, classes and seminars for the week." When asked why, Myra had uncharacteristically screamed for her to, "Shut up and just do it," and then immediately hung up. 

"Her voice just didn't sound right," Pamela added. 

Now I was deeply disturbed. I cancelled all of my appointments with my own secretary and started to search for the women's whereabouts.

Using my house key for Myra's I gave it a quick look over, nothing obvious and lots of unanswered blinking of her answering machine. The cat food bowl was empty and the water dish dry. Her two cats, which had never had much use for me previously, were now suddenly my best pals as I refilled their food and water dishes. I couldn't resist a taking a look in the drawers of Myra's two bedside tables. I found a lot of interesting sex toys on both sides, with the more eye opening ones on the right side (probably Allison's, Myra always slept on the left side of the bed when we had shared a bed together). Amused and slightly educated, I left, there were no answers here. 

Driving in circles, I was running out of places to call and check for her when I remembered her new lab setup at the Serpent's Lair. I kicked myself; it should have been the first place that I should have gone looking for them at. I started to head for the University at once, but something kept bothering me enough that about 2/3rds of the way there I first detoured by my house and picked up my gun. Soon after my return from San Diego I had gone to a gun show and bought a vintage military surplus, but still very serviceable, Colt .45 to replace the pair that I had 'lost' to evidence at the sewage plant. Packing a little reassurance, I broke several speed limits getting to the University. 

Just exactly what made me stop and go back home for that weapon I'll never figure out to this day. Come to find out though, it made no difference whatsoever.

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

Taking the stairs down the basement (there was a freight elevator, but it was key operated only, a good thing since it was also noisy as heck). I found that the chain and padlock were off of the door handles to the Lair (it had never had a proper door mounted lock even in the old days) and I quietly opened it and crept inside. 

I could hear a muttering voice, but something told me that it wasn't Myra's. Prepared for the worst I crept down the three cement steps and looked around the right hand hall corner into the center of the room. In my past experience when you prepare for the worst you are rarely disappointed. What I saw did not elevate my spirits though.

First, I saw Allison; That was alarming enough. She was nude, except for wearing a collar around her neck and a pair of sturdy leather cuffs that restrained her hands behind her back. She was kneeling in a submissive position next to small portly middle-aged man wearing a tweed jacket and glasses, who was wearing a headset that seemed to be plugged into Myra's new giant toy, her sensory deprivation chamber, which ominously to be seemed all lit up. A dripping IV and other tubes bearing liquids confirmed my suspicion that someone (probably Myra?) was inside it. 

I cursed my crappy luck and drew my gun and angled into the room enough to get a shooting angle, but I wasn't happy with my immediate choices… either equipment or Allison's head blocked all of my immediate paths for shooting, plus I was not a cold blooded murderer. I also didn't know all of the facts and my growing suspicions could theoretically be wrong (in a pig's eye). 

I first tried very discretely getting Allison's attention, but to no avail. Her eyes hardly seemed to blink and she didn't move a single muscle for the five minutes I observed her from my semi-hidden spot near the doorway. At least her captor, "M" (I was willing to bet my entire savings upon it being him) was so absorbed in his work, muttering seeming gibberish to me, into his headset microphone. Eventually, my increasing efforts to get Allison's attention attracted his; he seemed only a little surprised but recovered very quickly.

I brandished my gun in a manner that suggested much more confidence than I actually felt and charged into the room to face him. I was still unwilling to risk any shot with Allison anywhere nearby. I then ordered him to release Allison and then step away holding his hands in the air. 

He laughed a thin squeaky sort of laugh and complied, whispering something in her ear as he released her from her cuffs and also handed her his silver tipped walking stick while stepping away from her, putting his headset down also.

My unease didn't diminish; Allison showed no signs of recognizing me and did not run or even hurry to my side. I grabbed her and pushed her behind me to protect her, and leveling my gun at "M", I ordered him to the floor and he complied. I thought again about just executing the man who had given me and my beloved so much irreparable grief but I slightly relaxed my grip and decided to cuff "M" instead. Myra might also need him alive to get all of his code words out of Allison, I thought. 

Instead, as I took my first step forward to secure him, he shouted one of his codes out first. "Tula, Rumpleforeskin" and then "Tula, Kill!" 

I turned just in time to see Allison swinging "M"s heavy silver-ended cane at my head with insane unblinking force. I had no time to dodge the block, which would have split my head open like a ripe melon, but I evaded just enough of the blows main force which struck me hard on the side of my head instead of upon the crown. 

I was knocked dazed face down onto the cement floor and never felt the second (or third) blows that immediately followed.

I never realized how nearly my latest fuckup had also almost become my last, but my overworked guardian angel must have had a soft place in his or her heart for fools and utter idiots and I remained unconscious for a very long time.

***********

I awoke with my head feeling like a small nuclear explosion had gone off. The pain was paralyzing and when I felt like I could almost manage to open my eyes, I had to immediately shut them due to the pain and at my quadruple vision. 

Wonderful, I had a major concussion at the very least. My hands didn't seem to be tied and my face seemed wet, like I was in a puddle and I could taste blood - nothing bleeds like a scalp wound. The detached Paramedic part of my brain told me that I was hurt… badly, but I could guess that "M" had thought I was dead. I guess he had never learned to take vital signs properly in med school, or else he was overconfident – it did feel like I was in a fairly big pool of blood... all mine.

Things were bad but I had hope. I settled for that and kept my eyes shut for awhile and remained still, but despite my efforts to remain conscious I know that I blacked out at least a few more times. When my sight had improved to merely only having triple vision, I risked taking a long look around at my surroundings. 

The pain was nearly unbearable, but I got the good look I needed to evaluate my situation. Allison was kneeling again in the same tranced out position she was in when I had first entered. "M" seemed to be taking a short catnap. I guess even the evil genius couldn't stay awake three or four days straight without a little rest and was lightly snoring with his headphones still on. 

I was indeed laying in a large pool of my own blood, but not a dangerously large such amount. It looks worse than it was. I had been dragged across to the other side of the Lair from the doorway on the opposite side of the room from Allison and "M". There was still no sign of Myra. 

My first piece of luck! Now, if I could move, I could get the drop on him for a change. The problem was my head was a broken mess and my body wasn't following instructions well. I tried to stand up and had another short blackout. I tried to pull myself up a bit but quit just as I felt myself start to blackout. Not so good. 

I went to Plan B, I pulled out my cell phone. "M" assumed a dead person wouldn't be using it, and had left it in my pocket, but he had taken my gun) and started dialing numbers. I got no answer at either my office, Tiny's office (I couldn't remember his newish home phone number) or Myra's office. Darn, it's late at night then. 

I seemed to have a harder time focusing and dialing and decided I really only had one good chance left. 911 or Tammy. I choose Tammy first and after at least five attempts someone answered that sounded vaguely like her. Now the problem was that my whispered speech made absolutely no sense to my own ears. Who knows what I was really saying. Was I talking nonsense and hearing it correct, or I was I speaking lucid and my brain was interpreting it as gibberish? For that matter I could not understand a word that Tammy was saying, if by a miracle that was her I had actually reached at all. 

I think I then had another long blackout for when I revived, the phone was still powered on, but no one was there. I could see what looked like the low battery signal (I had improved to only suffering double-vision) and it could not seem to stay connected to any signal tower. I was on my own again, and it was now or never to come up with a plan to save ourselves. 

I began to slowly inch my way across the floor towards Allison. It took seemingly forever. "M" shifted slightly once but continued to snore (he must have utterly exhausted) and did not awaken. I crawled it seemed for an hour, I reached Allison's side where I could whisper to her safely and not risk being overhead. The problem was, she didn't seem to see or hear me at all. Even gently poking her leg seemed to exact no response. I was exhausted and dizzy and feared that even moving another inch would cause another blackout… I couldn't risk moving much further. 

If "M" awoke now, there was no way I could play dead any longer. 

Next to Allison was one of the old bar tables. Maybe it had my gun on it or something I could use? I risked pulling myself up into the old carpet covered wall length bench that used to be the main bar seats (there had been a few tables and chair but not many, the grad students had preferred to sit in a three-sided square along the walls for their drinking and group discussions). With effort, I pulled myself up enough to take a look, drat – nothing there on the table. In fact I thought I could now see my gun resting next to "M's" side in the corner. I saw no way of getting over to it, either quickly or safely. 

That left only emergency Plan Z, which I had, really, really hoped not to have to try and prayed that my language skills had returned. I took two deep breaths and summoned every ounce of my will and concentration.

"Tula, Rumpleforeskin… Tula answer Master, can you hear my voice." Allison answered in a tiny, far away voice, "Yes Master I hear your voice, but it does not sound like Master's voice." Ok, this might work, but I would have to be oh, so careful.




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 07



"Tula, you will listen to Master's voice and only to your Master's voice, will you obey Master? Answer me only in a whisper." She whispered "Yes, Master" but didn't sound completely certain. I swung for the fences.

"Tula, Master is unhappy with you. You do not sound like you want to Obey Master, you are considering being Disobedient and not Obeying Master." Allison's obvious distress grew, as she did want so want to Obey Master but was confused, uncertain.

I continued, "Master is growing displeased and Angry. You know what happens when Master gets Angry, especially with disobedient Bad Slave Girls that want to disobey." Allison was nearly crying by now and her pleas of obedience were becoming dangerously loud.

"Silence, Tula! You will not speak any more to Master until he gives you permission. Master grows Angry. Will you listen to my voice and ONLY my voice and will do exactly as Master tells you, Obeying only your Master. If you do as Master says EXACTLY he will no longer be Angry with Tula, otherwise Tula will be locked into her Punishment Room and Tula knows what will happen to her there. Nod then for me, if you can be a Good Girl and hear only this voice now, not my other voices, and do exactly as Master says."

Allison flowed rivers of tears and silently bobbed her head up and down and signaled utter acceptance of my Mastership over her. After a last brief instruction to her she arose and walked over to "M" and without a seconds hesitation or delay picked up "M's" still bloody walking stick. He awoke suddenly to the sight of his slave Tula swinging his stick down upon his unmoving and startled head. His skull fared poorer than mine did, and the first sickening crunch was enough to let me know that "M" had given his last order. I had to command Tula to stop, as she kept beating his skull long after his brains had begun to decorate the walls. 

Covered in blood and gore I ordered Tula to return and sit next to me. I told her that she had been a Good Girl, Master was well pleased with her and she could take a nap now if she wished. She did and was soon snoring by my reclining arm. The stress over, I shut my eyes too to rest from the wave of dizziness I felt, only for just moment it seemed…

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

When I woke it was to find Tammy kneeling next to me checking my vitals. This was the second clusterfuck she had helped save me from and I was determined that there would never be a third time!

It seems she had understood most of my message, including Rice U and Snake Pit (close enough to Serpent's Lair), it had taken her awhile to find anyone old enough to remember the place once she got here (six hours apparently after my muddled call) along with a couple of local FBI Agents. She had missed all of the fun but not yet all of the drama. 

She was determined that Allison and I needed to get to a hospital immediately but there were two needs that must be done first. Myra needed to be taken out of her tank and I wanted 'Allison' back, not the screwed up zombie 'training persona' that now occupied her body.

Slowly, I explained the situation as I saw it, and with the Agent's help Tammy got Myra disconnected and out of the tank. Except this wasn't quite the same "Myra" any of us remembered. 

This Myra seemed to still be a late teenager in her memories (she didn't recognize or remember either Allison or myself) and, it soon appeared, her memories were that of a longtime victim of child abuse and incest, since before her adolescent years. Oh My God! That was one of Myra's secrets that she would rather have died than ever reveal to anyone, part of the demons of which had never quite gone away no matter how hard she tried to bury them. All of Allison's vague hints over the last six months now had some understanding for me. But for now, one last problem remained, how to get Tula's deactivation word or words? 

I gave Tammy the only code words I had for Tula (I was sure that there were many more of them) and I ordered Tula that she should listen to and obey the words of her new Mistress. As I drifted off in a medicated haze being taken off by two EMT's whose names and faces I could barely recall, I saw Tammy standing next to a still blood and brain covered "Tula" speaking to her earnestly and sharply, and heard a final "Yes, Mistress" before I fell under.

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

I awoke in a hospital bed, and it was Friday afternoon to find Tammy and Allison (not Tula!) by my bedside. Myra was recovering fairly well, it was explained, from her four day ordeal in the tank and was "mostly back to normal now" and had been released from care that morning. That insane genius "M," Dr. Malcolm Mitchell, kept a notebook with all of his command words and 'persona names' he had built for each captive. The notebook was frighteningly full, apparently there were hundreds of potential victims all over the country and the FBI was already starting to track them down. Odds were this part of the story would not be making the network news or newspapers for a very long time, if ever at all. Some truths are too terrible to be ever revealed.  

Mitchell had avoided the FBI raid at his home by already being here in Houston, visiting Myra last Friday afternoon. Despite my hints to her that Allison's and my situations required a fair bit of secrecy and that we had potential 'enemies', with at least one of them with possessing exceptional psychiatric knowledge and skill, she had 'cut some corners' and had sought advice from several national colleagues. Murphy's Law being what it is, nearly the first person she called for advice about her patient was Dr. Mitchell (of whom it must be admitted that he did have a heavy duty resume, especially concerning cases of drug induced 'multiple personalities'. Myra had told him incautiously about her patient and her new sensory tank, and had peaked his interest enough to come in person to see it. Recognizing the risk immediately, he overpowered and drugged Myra and started his work to take possession over her personality while he reactivated his old controls over 'Tula'.

As Allison had mentioned to me months ago, "M's" genius was in really understanding exactly what buttons to push on his victims, particularly if they had a vulnerable past (as both Allison and Myra did). He had painstakingly broken down every barrier Myra had built in her psyche and exposed her childhood of serial abuse (by both her father and older brother which explained why I had never known before that either existed). She maintained to me that both had died about the time she went to college, in some sort of accident. 

It was determined that he had not yet done very much in the way of new "programming" on Myra (or 'Mina' as her slave name was to be called) but he was still exploring and revealing all of Myra's secrets, using the lever of her prior abuse to remold Myra as a true submissive. She had always seemed a bit naturally submissive in bed to begin with, always letting me take charge and be in control in our past lovemaking. With a bit of embarrassment, Allison admitted that in their sex together, Myra had usually always assumed the submissive partner role, and in bed, invariably did as Allison requested serving her willingly.

"M's" greatest secret however, and the main reason for his seemingly irresistible success in turning captive victims into willing wanton sex slaves was chemical. Allison opened her purse showing us 10 ampoules of some unknown drug (marked only Batch #31). Two empty vials had been found near discarded IV bags that had been used on Myra, during those four terrible days in the tank. Much more would undoubtedly be found at the Doctor's beach house homes in Santa Cruz and Big Sur by the FBI. 

That caused us all of us no little concern, a tested workable mind control drug now in the hands of the government, that in a proper trance state could wipe away old personalities (walling them up for the most part) and creating a new malleable slave personality whose only thoughts were how to please her Master or Mistress.

"M's" notes later revealed that he had deactivated most of his controls over Allison just before he sold her, but he retaining the ability to instantly reassume at least minor control over her at any future moment. Now with this list of commands, Myra should be able to relatively easily perform a proper and lasting 'fix' for Allison. The problem was now that Myra had gone deep in seclusion. 

"She left immediately on a flight home to Tennessee," her secretary Patty said, "With clear instructions that she was now on sabbatical and she left no date for her return." None of us had the slightest clue what her home town even was. For a while anyway, Allison's treatment was on a complete hold.

No one told Allison exactly how "M" died, she had no memories of anything past early Monday morning, when she had the shock of seeing "M"s face and instantly remembered nothing more. Tammy had cleverly obtained 'Tula's' turn off word by elaborately maintaining that Tula was a silly forgetful and Bad Slave Girl who didn't even remember her master's (or new Mistresses) commands. Tula kept replied that she was 'forbidden to speak it' but under the pressure of proving that she was Good and Obedient, she eventually in tears wrote it down for Tammy. Upon release, Allison's last Monday's memories returned and things were as close to normal as they were likely to be for a while.

***********

Tammy stayed for over a week until I was released from the Hospital, but I remained on sick leave from work and, during my recovery (and Myra's absence), was joined by Allison at Tammy's hotel room. I think they did a little catching up together but the mood and inclination for wild sex was quite subdued and no one was particularly happy or in the mood for fun.

Allison was horrified by the details of her and Myra's capture and near instant subjugation, and even worse, blamed herself utterly for my injuries (a minor skull fracture that healed fast but left recurring and nearly debilitating headaches that would plague me for years (albeit less and less often over time). She played the ever dutiful nurse but she seemed afraid to even touch me now and would not let me hold her close. 

Her long held fear that her condition could somehow cause me pain and hurt had been utterly fulfilled. She was certain that left alone, she might cause it (or worse) to happen yet again to me. She felt she could not be trusted near me. 

Once she was sure I was safely home and recovering, she began to become very evasive about her activities, and avoiding me as much as possible. For the next month or so, I rarely saw her and never when she was alone. The absence seemed to nearly kill her; she sounded on the phone profoundly unhappy, seemed to miss me with every fiber of her existence but could not forgive herself for nearly killing me. She began losing weight again and was clearly not sleeping much either. Only by attending AA meetings now daily (and sometimes twice a day) was she able, she told me later, to avoid a relapse to drinking and final self-destruction.

I wasn't in much better shape myself and I brooded about things seemingly endlessly, day and night. My headaches were still occurring just about daily at that time, and once I started one I was worthless for hours, capable only of sitting or lying in bed in the dark until most of the pain passed. I reached a few decisions though, including one I had putting off for far too long. 

I refused utterly the now vacant Medical Director's position and put my letter of resignation on the Chiefs desk. We fought for awhile and in the end I accepted his offer for an extended long-term medical leave - at 2/3's pay + keeping my medical insurances, with an option to return later if I chose or have it converted to a permanent Medical Retirement later.

Tammy had rekindled her long distance romance with Tiny and visiting him for a few days in Lovett (and telling me a number of patently crazy stories about the place that defied belief – but all turned out to be quite true). They couldn't break the ice together enough to finally have sex, but admitted she had gotten her leadoff runner to scoring position with no outs before the evening somehow ended up in another argument (she couldn't recall what started it) and the entire game was postponed for rain (Tammy loves a good Baseball analogy). 

He huffed off over something and she left in a snit that clouded over the remainder of her stay. She snuggled just once at my place the night before she left, with a very gentle lovemaking. I wasn't allowed vigorous exercise and it could and did trigger my headaches. She then kissed me goodbye for this visit with my load still warm inside her. 

I was to find out later she rushed immediately back to a waiting Allison at her nearby hotel and offered my fresh offering to her as room service, which she devoured like a starving lion would a steak, licking out every drop over the space of two hours. She was so desperate for any contact with me that my secondhand semen was a godsend to her. 

Allison stayed for awhile at Myra's house all alone but after a few weeks moved in with an AA friend and did not even consider returning home to me.

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

I began to actively worry that Allison was rapidly reaching an emotional crisis and that suicide was even beginning to enter her thoughts. In the nick of time, not one day too soon in my option, Myra suddenly returned and Allison went back to live with Myra once again. 

I received a cryptic message that the 'Project' was back on again. I packed a few essentials, a sleeping bag, some snack foods and returned once again to the Serpent's Lair and found Myra back at work. She had installed a new inside locking bar and initially refused me admittance. I found a large length of steel pipe and banged that metal door for two hours non-stop until she finally did admit defeat and let me in and I was permitted to stay, and I did so for the next two weeks without hardly a rest or break for even a shower or a hot meal.

I don't understand even 10% of what Myra did with Allison in the tank nearly every day (and with some Batch #31 in increasing amounts in her IV). But it was clear to me that she was just as much of a genius at her work as "M" had been. There were good days that it seemed real progress had been made and there were days that were just plain God awful, like when the barrier into "Tula's" part of the brain was breached. We decided she 'had to know, if she was to fully heal and get well' rather than trying to wall off that persona inside her forever. 

Allison then knew what she really had done to me that day in here in the Lair, under "M's" control and how she had bludgeoned his skull over two dozen times. It wasn't a decision we agreed to happily, but Myra though, in the long term, this would be for the best… and it probably was.

Her utter despair and grief were nearly beyond any comfort. My presence became too disturbing for Allison to handle and out of necessity I left them both alone for the next two weeks.

At no point would Myra ever suffer the slightest mention of her own experience in the tank, her escaped memories of her childhood abuse or the details of her sabbatical. It was clear she was a very, very troubled woman and that she desperately needed some sort of help too. I tried once putting my arms around her to comfort her and beg that she allow us to help her but that created a major explosion that derailed the rest of the days work and Myra stormed out in an emotional firestorm that blistered my eardrums (and that I was certain involved her calling me "Daddy" at one point). Crap! 

I stayed away the next day and no mention was made of the incident on my return on the following day. Myra even had a weak smile and said she was glad to see me. Looking at her face, I think she really was, it was the first genuine smile I'd since leaving for San Diego what seemed lifetime ago. I told her that day I had left the Fire Department, probably for good. 

"It's about time," she replied, "Everyone could tell you hated the politics side of things and that was going to be your fate for next ten years if you had let it. You're making progress at last, but still have some work left to do." She went back to hers, with a vengeance. 

I think that was the day Allison made her single greatest turnaround in her recovery, as Myra and I took turns telling her how much we loved her and that we accepted everything and every part of her, loved dearly every little bit of her, and everything was forgivable and forgiven. We were all crying tears of love and happiness, and at one moment I noticed for the first time in nine months that I was holding Myra's hand. She soon became aware of this too and gave me another weak smile but broke hand contact before I could kiss her cheek.

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

Progress came steadily now, walking soon became running, until soon more of Allison's therapy was now occurring out of the tank than in it. Allison now had a full memory of the terrible events during her over four years of captivity. This was a very heavy burden, but soon she began to accept and incorporate all of her induced personas into a reformed and stronger 'new' Allison. 

I got to see more and more of this new more confident and happier person each week, within another month, her eleventh month of treatment since her recovery, we were once again sharing full weekends. She was splitting time between Myra's and my house now and although it seemed that the critical work of her recovery was now done, with therapy and time healing and fading the scars, she hinted that there was now a new project in the works, that I suspected involved Myra's own personal recovery. Things came to a head, during Tammy's visit on the eleventh month since Allison's rescue. 

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

Myra's own affection for Tammy was unmistakable and she gave her a full share of the credit for her rescue from the tank. She came into town to visit at least monthly now, had recently finished her 20th year of combined military and civil service duty and she could take early retirement anytime from now on if she wished. We began again to have some fun between the three of us and after some initial awkwardness at the start, we resumed group (and paired) sex between us. 

If Tammy was "on" that month with Tiny, he would come up and visit or she would drive down to see him. It was Tammy's decision that he was not to be aware of her active and still blooming, sex life, both here with us and back home in San Diego. Myra certainly knew of our sexual adventures, but declined to involve herself, and once she finished her major role in Allison's recovery I could tell that her emotional coolness was starting to return. 

There were some tantalizing hints from Allison, that I deliberately declined to pursue, that she had engaged in recent phone sex incidents with Allison and Tammy (whether it was Tammy was listen to Allison and Myra, or Myra listening to Allison and Tammie or both I didn't know) and there was a faint hint that perhaps at least once, Tammy had joined Allison and Myra together in bed.

The four of us were at an early dinner together on a Wednesday night, Allison and Tammy were wearing their 'Sets' and were extraordinarily well behaved, too well behaved. Allison had bought Myra the green matching 'Set' dress, but she would never wear it… at least around me. I would have smelled some kind of a rat, except Myra and Allison shortly needed to leave for Myra's Wednesday night group therapy class (she had restarted some of her normal schedule right after her return from Sabbatical). Interestingly, Allison was not at these meetings as a patient but was acting as an assistant now for Myra. Good for her!

Myra was her usual elusive self but when repeated kicked by the other two girls into better behavior she condescended to smile and even laugh a bit upon occasion. She even returned from the obligatory mass migration to the ladies room looking slightly ruffled and well-snogged and blushed when I caught her eye. She surprisingly let me take her chair to seat her, which she hadn't let me do in nearly a year and even permitted me a kiss on her cheek when she and Allison left for their meeting. 




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 07



I thought that would be pretty much the end of activities for the night since Wednesday night had turned into Allison and Myra's private night of the week to be together. While Allison and I were indeed spending much more time together, her clothes were still nearly evenly split between the two houses. I figured it was time for Tammy and I to go to my house (no hotels on these last few visits) and have our own private little entertaining this evening. We didn't always have sex when alone together but there was always fun cuddling in bed and I was just in the mood for a good cuddle tonight. 

Tammy definitely had other plans for us, and wow they were they doozies! Not an hour later, we were both inside Myra's house getting ready to hide in her walk in closet the moment her car appeared in the driveway!



Eventualities: Allison Ch. 08



"Are you absolutely sure that this is what Allison told you she wanted us to do?" I asked Tammy for what must have been the eighth or tenth time since arriving at Myra's.

"Yes, silly. Now calm down or I'll have to calm you down myself before the fun starts and that could reduce the amount of fun you're likely to have later," she giggled, clearly enjoying herself far too much. 

I was going to have to ask Allison to give her a good spanking later so I could watch and get a little revenge. Judging by the way Allison and Myra's toy collection had grown since my last visit, they certainly had all the materials to do the job properly... and anything else I think of. I didn't even know what some of the newer sex toys were even used for!

If I really understood things correctly, this was the situation. Since the start of Allison's final bit of road to full recovery, Myra had begun to redirect some of their latest efforts to effecting some sort of a treatment for herself. She had apparently surrendered complete and utter trust to Allison and they returned to the Serpent's Lair, this time with Myra the willing subject in the tank. Each day they would review results, suggest new options and plan the scripts she would create for Allison to use in treatment the next day. 

Yes, doses of Batch #31 (there were now only 3 vials left now) featured in Myra's self-treatment. 

I wondered what sort of Frankenstein monster it could create, especially at the hands of a self-admitted hopeless slut, and was frankly quite alarmed but Tammy stopped me short. There wasn't one word Allison had uttered into her drugged pliable subject that hadn't been pre-screened and reviewed a week in advance. Myra had been very busy apparently during her sabbatical and had everything planned as much as possible in advance. If everything worked right tonight, this would be the evening of Myra's own 'big breakthrough, that she has been resisting'. 

Tammy had visited a few of the sessions at the Lair, seen some of the large script binders and had assisted Allison for a few days there this week (I had thought the women were all out shopping together as usual). Our presence here tonight, mine especially, would be critical and my orders were firm; I must remain hidden, silent, and remain undiscovered unless ordered specifically to appear.

Myra's walk-in closet, a 70's added renovation to her 1910's semi-Victorian style house, featured grillwork above the closet door to let air in, and let us see out, once we borrowed a small stepladder from the kitchen pantry. The grill gave an excellent view of the bedroom and we would easily be able to see and hear everything that occurred. We padded the stepladder with towels to muffle its sounds in the event it squeaked or creaked audibly under our weight. 

It was about this time I discovered two of Myra's minor new secrets. She now owned a green 'Set' dress to match Allison's and Tammy's and also had her own LBD silk dress with the same matching stiletto fuck me pumps as the other girls. Faced with their discovery, Tammy admitted both outfits had been bought quite awhile back and had indeed been worn on numerous occasions. 

Grabbing firm hold of a squirming nipple ring (Tammy was trying to escape further questioning), I obtained several more confessions under duress and prolonged torture. I also started rubbing her crotch under her dress which was protected by only a thin pair of crotchless panties. Eventually she confessed that on her last visit they had driven Myra to buy her LBD and the shoes and the three then wore their outfits while out together that night. They become so aroused that they abandoned any thoughts of clubbing (just as well or they might have been gang raped by any men seeing them) and soon ended up making love together in front of the fireplace in Myra's living room, never quite actually bothering to take their outfits off. 

Tammy also confirmed that phone sex between the three of them had been a regular, weekly occurrence for quite some time over many months, and often involved Myra listening in on the bedroom phone while Allison and Tammy had engaged in prolonged bouts of lesbian sex. Once Allison had even hidden the phone so that Myra could listen in while Allison, Tammy I and engaged in sex together.

"She loves you deeply but she won't admit it. She loves Allison just as much and can only just barely admit that either. The silly woman just needs to realize that she loves you both and you both love her just as much. Everything else can be straightened out while in bed." Tammy whispered as we heard Myra's car and we moved into our hiding position. 

We snuck a last kiss and mutual fondles and we froze into silent watchfulness at the sexual psychodrama that was about to begin.

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

Allison and Myra entered the room and kissed deeply, their hands wandering freely over the others breasts and asses. Allison then pushed Myra away sharply and ordered Myra "Prepare the bedroom, then strip and wait for me!" 

Allison left the bedroom and went across the hall to the guest bedroom where she kept most of her clothes and things while living at Myra's. Myra immediately began to prepare the bedroom. 

She lit numerous candles around the room, put into the bedside CD-player/alarm clock a disc that started up at once, filling the room softly with a gothic metal sound that suggested lonely moors, dungeons and damsels in considerable distress. Next Myra pulled from under the bed a large bag of toys and fetish clothing items. The toys arrayed, she stripped naked, and grasping a riding crop in her mouth she knelt in front of the bed with her arms placed behind her. 

"Oh, this is going to be even better than I thought!" Tammy huskily whispered, placing a one hand into her crotch and the other gently tugging on one of her nipple rings.

Allison returned to the bedroom wearing only a leather corset and high heel boots. Her smooth cunt and pierced tits were well exposed and glistened slightly in the candlelight. She took the whip from Myra's mouth and gently kissed her and standing upright delivered a succession of fairly gentle blows to the tops and sides of Myra's breasts. Myra cried out softly but didn't move a muscle and after a few moments a sensation other than that of discomfort seemed to cross her face. Allison stopped for a moment inspected her work and then gave a last few strokes. She then stooped again and gave her willing slave girl a deep kiss and addressed her. 

"Bring me your corset!" Myra did and it was soon fastened it onto her, securing her arms firmly and locking them into position behind her. Allison gave her next order.

"Assume the position Big Lips, I am VERY angry with you. You made cow eyes at my man at dinner tonight, then spent the rest of the evening looking at my girlfriend's tits, and when I let you suck on them briefly you didn't stop when I ordered and even had the temerity to beg to lick her clit without permission. I can't be having that." Myra kneeled at Allison's feet her mouth kissing the black leather boots begging forgiveness from her Mistress. 

Allison continued, "Your problem Big Lips is that you are a slut! You love being a slut, and you want secretly keep being a slut, hoping your Mistress will keep letting you do nasty little sluttish things, don't you? I at least have an excuse for being a slut, I got turned into one against my will, but you actually are envious of me and want to be a shameless slut yourself." 

Myra cried her agreement begging her Mistress, "Please, I do want to be slut, to please and obey you, to feel your whip and know that you love me." Allison tenderly gave Myra's slighting reddening ass some caresses with her riding crop. The crop looked familiar, I'm sure that it was the one that May had given me.

"Since you are determined to be a shameless nasty little slut, Big Lips, I guess you're going to have to dress the part... but you know that you'll have to be punished." 

With that Allison opened a dresser draw and pulled out a pair of stocking and a garter belt. She directed the well chastised girl to first stand as she slid up the garter belt and then to lie on her back on the bed as she slid each stocking Myra's leg and thighs to be snapped into place by the garter belt. I approved of Allison's choice, the garter belt of course was one of custom order silk embroidery ones with "Slut" on the front, I assumed that "Anal Whore" or something like it was featured on the back. I had never seen the stockings before, they were of dark knit and each leg featured the word "Slut" many times in very readable print.

"There! My slut is dressed properly now but is she ready to act the part? Ready to wear this proudly out in public and show off your tits and nicely shaved cunt to everyone you meet? I don't think so! I think my Big Lipped Cunt is all look and no show. She flirts and kisses their lips and nipples, rubs their legs and dreams of big fat cocks, big pierced titties and wet juicy cunts for her to lick, but never does anything to get them. You dream of those fat cocks, especially my lover's big fat cock, don't you? You used to fuck him, while I was away, didn't you? Tell me, tell me how much you loved to fuck him, right here in this very bed too, wasn't it? And with your other female lovers sometimes with you too but your Mistress isn't good enough to share your lover with now. You'd rather run back home wishing for your Daddy." 

With this statement Allison began mercilessly caressing Myra's pubic region including her clit, and gently but firmly, applied a few whacks to the public mound, cunt and thighs of her quivering and pleading slave, but Allison was little inclined to show any mercy whatsoever and soon the entire region was a soft glowing rosey pink. Myra's tears were not that of pain, her nipples were rock hard and her eyes glowed with lust.

"Don't you even think about wanting to cum, I'm not going to let you. I bet every time you and Pete fucked you just laid there and thought of your darling daddy, or was it your big brother that filled your slutty young tight girly cunt the tightest?" Allison, without missing a stroke, switched her attention to Myra's breasts and gently but soundly thrashed them both were also a glowing a delicious cherry red in the flickering candlelight.

The CD's background music had begun to add the sounds of the crackle of whips, iron chains and the orgasmic cries of captive maidens being delightfully tormented and ravished. Beside me Tammy had slipped out of her dress and was wearing only her own 'Slut' embroidered garter belt and sheer plain stockings. Her fingers were twiddling and mashing her clit and cunt as fast as she could and she put her other hand in her mouth to stifle her cries. I hadn't figured Tammy for the whips and chains type, and she actually really wasn't big into that. She told me later that she was just utterly delighted to see strong and self-secure Myra begging for love and admitting that her sex life was a disaster.

Myra, now well stimulated, begging for release and confessed that she was 'Pathetic in bed, a total frigid fish that no man would willingly want again after fucking her at least once.' 

What did she always think about during sex? Her father, who brought her first to his bed on her fourteenth birthday right after her mother had died, to 'take over the women's job in the house'. Her brother had been diddling her for at least a year earlier. 

Had she stopped him? "No, he was much older and bigger than I was. They locked me in a closet and beat me with a belt if I did not obey." 

She was pregnant virtually constantly each year from her 15th to her 18th birthday, but miscarried each child after just a few months. She was, "A worthless cunt who couldn't hold her babies that no man would want to keep."

She was thrown out of the house right after her high school graduation, pregnant again but already bleeding and soon about to miscarry for a 7th time. The charity in Knoxville that she went to patched up her shattered confidence, found her a small college scholarship that led to academic success, but failed relationships with both men and women. She could not trust her sexual partners and could never relax herself while performing any intimate act.

With Myra sobbing her pathetic confessions, there was not a dry eye in the house. Allison's eyes seemed filled with tears but she controlled them and selected some new toys from the assortment, a very large butt plug and an intimidating strap on dildo, which Allison proceeded to attach to herself. She inserted the butt plug with a little lubrication and commented on how easily it fit. Had her naughty slut been playing with it and other toys to make her ass ready for other lovers? Like Pete? Myra tearfully nodded yes. What about her naughty Big Lipped Cunt, did she think she was worthy of receiving Pete's magnificent cock? 

"Oh yes... please, Mistress, I'll do anything, anyone you tell me to. Suck their cocks, take them into my slutty mouth, cunt and ass. I willingly do anything they ask me to, eat all their pussies, lick their breasts and tight assholes as well."

"Suck my hard cock, my Big Lipped Cunt, make it good and wet for when I fuck you with it. At least I'll have some fun but you'll be too busy missing the way your Daddy and your brother used to take care of you, I'll be the one fucking you but you'll just be thinking of them instead." With that, Allison gently slapped Myra's face with her strap on cock, turned her around on her knees facing the head of the bed and started to violently fuck Myra's spread cunt. Taking up the riding crop, once again, she began to apply vicious strokes to Myra's spread ass and lower back.

"DO NOT CUM!" Allison ordered, as Myra seemed ready to lift her back up and scream in orgasm. "Only Good Obedient Sluts get to come, if their Mistress or Master gives them permission first, but that's only for Good Sluts, not naughty teasing Big Lipped Cunts like yours." Allison pulled her dildo out of Myra clearly dripping wet snatch and ordered Myra to clean it, which she did enthusiastically.

"You want my hard cock again, don't you, back in that tight underused cunt or your wiggling red ass. Tell me, were you thinking of your well hung Daddy while I was fucking you?" Myra shook her head no. 

Allison pushed Myra, back onto the bed, drew her legs in the air, and planted a few blistering swaps on each side of her pubic mound and cunt lips with the riding crop. Her lips were as swollen and engorged as I had ever remembered seeing them. After a final swat right onto each of Myra's nipples, Allison placed tip of her strap on cock right at the entrance to Myra's spread open and well lubricated cunt. 

"Beg for it!" She ordered. "Tell me who you want to be fucking you right now?" 

"Master Pete!" Myra, begged. "I want his cock in me, I want him to fuck me while I eat your cunt as you whip my tits until I come and come and come. Please I want it so bad... I want to be your Good Slut and let my Mistress and Master fuck and use me how they choose. I love them both so much!" With that, Tammy beside me screamed a muffled orgasm and nearly fell off the ladder, her release was so strong. 

Allison, having heard Tammy squeals of pleasure, looked at the Closet door and motioned for us to come out and barked once again at her helpless slave girl.

"You want to feel the cock of your Master, Slut? Beg for it then, Plead for him to fuck and use you. Beg his forgiveness and maybe he can find a use for a silly teasing Big Lip Cunt." Myra did just that, and pleaded for me to fuck her until her cries were eventually muffled by Allison planting her cunt over her mouth. Tammy moved up to kiss Allison and they deeply lip locked, playing with each other nipple rings with one hand.

Myra's last coherent words to me were, "Fuck me please Master, make me your obedient slut. I've been such a Bad Girl, such a cold hearted bitch to you. Teach me how to be a Good Girl, for you and Mistress." I obliged her; repeatedly. Until dawn the next morning I repeated seeded my cum into every orifice she had, with the other two girls exchanging the use of the strap on (not on me thank goodness) but everywhere else it would fit. 

***********

By morning, everyone was all worn out, although Tammy and Myra were having one last go at it, and were wearing out both ends of a pair of large double-ended flexible dildos, one each in their asses and cunts while Allison was simultaneously sucking my worn out cock so that she could share one last load of cum with her lovers. I finally obliged a last sperm deposit into Allison's coaxing mouth which she shared immediately with her lovers as usual. Not a drop had been wasted all night, regardless of where it had been placed and Myra got at least her full share and pleaded to be gifted with my cum, to mark me everywhere inside and out as my property. 

We slept until Noon and I awoke to the frantic sounds of three women cramming vibrators and dildo's everywhere in each other's orifices where any opening could be found, until they then merged into a three-way daisy chain. I took the opportunity after admiring the view to plant my first load of the day into Allison's well loosed and lubricated ass, eventually leaving a deposit that I was well proud off and not incidentally reminding Myra's Mistress of her own place in the pecking order when she gleefully licked the sticky contents out of Allison's ass. The girls all gave each other more soulful, sticky kisses and we got up to take a group shower. There was not nearly enough room for the four of us in her shower and I made a note to fix that problem in my next house.

Leaving the bedroom, a noticeable change came over Myra. Once she was outside the bedroom, she instantly lost a little of her abject obedience and became slightly more of her old assertive self, but in no way reverted to the old 'reserved' Myra. The 'project' had apparently been a complete success. She was still steel at work but no longer paralyzed by insecurities and bad memories in bed. 

I began to like the new Myra a lot. This one could share her feelings and express (especially now in bed) what she wanted. She was now happier in the outside world now too, everyone at the University and her Hospital soon started to notice the changes. 

*********

After a few days of some minor issues nagging at me, I managed to get some quality private time alone with Allison, where I could ask her about the biggest problem that was bugging me.

"Why is Myra now so utterly submissive in bed with a new fondness for B&D and light S&M treatment? She hadn't always been this way, but had "M" done this to her during her 4 days in the tank, or was some of this wish fulfillment?"

Since Allison was still very much a slut (albeit now with growing control over her urges) was she now wanting to mold Myra the same way? The answer ending up being surprising.

Myra had always suspected that she was a natural born submissive and enjoyed being treated as such by all of past lovers. Indeed, she had submitted virtually without any complaint to years of incest and sexual abuse. With her relationship with me she had always been rather submissive in bed, but she had recognized that I was not a natural 'Master' figure, and not wishing to lose me she had concealed those hidden desires. While under "M's" control, these submissive urges had become much stronger, and after long discussions with Allison and Tammy, she had decided to accept these changes, and even fine tune them to her exact liking. She wasn't quite a true pain slut now, like May had been, but receiving pain now while having sex did add to her pleasure.

Myra had had a lot of secrets. As she continued to heal inside we started to learn many of them. I discovered that in our 'old days' when Myra had sex with me at my home that there had been many nights that she would leave right afterwards to visit a girlfriend for increasingly firm 'chastisement.' Every piece of Myra's new reformed personality had been with an effort to bring honesty into her emotional and sex life. It wasn't an overnight complete success, but every day seemed a little better in nearly every way.




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 08



Allison, having spent many years of her own under the whip and recalling every manner of "M's" treatment of her, was happily inclined at this stage of her life to play the role of 'Switch'. She would be an obedient and submissive slave girl to me, but she was able in turn to become Myra's one and true Mistress. 

Having been an abject slave and suffering the worst extremes of truly hardcore S&M, she brought considerable compassion to her new role and I think she performed it well. She always demonstrated firm mastery of her slave while showing deep love and true affection for her charge. Allison guessed that as Myra's comfort within our little family grew and her memories of childhood abuse healed rather than just scarred over, Myra would have less and less need for chastisement. 

Like Beth, Myra had a predisposition for enjoying a little pain with sex but her needs were considerably less than Beth's. With love and care her need to feel a little pain with every joy should be reduced into a much more healthy range. While Allison and Myra's loved the drama that such dominant/submissive scenes created, thankfully they kept their play around me rather mild, much to my relief. Myra was right, I'm not naturally a Master, however I did feel I made a much better than average confidant, lover and friend. 

I've got a fairly good idea what the girls do together alone on their regular every Wednesday night very private time together, but I've never once asked about it and no details have even been volunteered. The bruises are usually completely healed by the weekend.

**********

There was still one big issue left to handle; Tammy's recurring issues with Tiny (and vice versa) had finally managed to step on our last collective remaining nerve. This on again/off again relationship was driving everyone nuts, so we quickly and quietly began plans for a little counseling session for her in the tank and a final dose of Batch #31. Myra joked that we had better not run into any more friends with problems, because we were quickly running out of Batch #31 to patch them up with. Patch indeed. I've watched Myra work wonders with that drug and she wields it like a laser scalpel. Give her another few years of 'research' and she'll be able to do things with it that would make even "M's" corpse sit up in his grave and take notice.

We grabbed Tammy (gently and lovingly but firmly) and popped her into the tank. After her crying settled down, she began to relax into an alpha state trance, and we started (the three of us together), to try and get some straight answers from her. Namely, what exactly was the problem between her and Tiny?

The answers we got were both simple and complex, the complex part being that both of them had an aversion to making commitments and decisions, to some lesser degree. Every time they started to drift closer together something would happen to invariably make them want drift a little further apart. This had been going on and off for nearly twenty years, long after anyone sensible would have said 'enough'. 

With a little more probing, the usual trigger seemed to be their sex life, or rather the lack of it. The hot button issue seemed to be the size of Tiny's cock, or rather the not so large size of it. Tiny may have been 6'-4" with a physique most body builders would have been proud of, but he was mortally embarrassed at his slightly below average size, which Tammy estimated from one brief viewing at only about four to five inches long.

That was the entire shooting match in a nutshell. She was afraid to pull the relationship together, and he was afraid if their relationship did pull together that he would be unable to satisfy her and he would be ultimately rejected. There was also the slight issue of how tolerant Tiny would be about allowing his wife to be romantically involved with several other women, not to mention another male lover. Tiny, the ex-SEAL who was afraid of no man, was apparently terrified and paralyzed by the thought of rejection by the woman he secretly loved but dared not quite woo.

For once I agreed with my two women. Tammy and Tiny each needed a good smack upside the head and with all of the weirdness that I had dealt with recently I was just in the mood to do the smacking. Myra had a simpler solution already prepared weeks in advance, and it naturally involved Batch #31.

"Tammy, do you love Tiny deep in your heart and want to be with him, marry him, bear his babies, grow comfortable old together? And if it came down to a choice of loving Tiny or us, whose side would you choose if you had to?" The answer was an unqualified "Yes," she would choose Tiny. 

This simplified the entire equation; Myra now had a very clear course of action and got to work at once. Allison and I provided Tammy with our love and reassurance while Myra worked at building up Tammy's self esteem and confidence to at last be willing to fight to get what she really wanted in life.

When we let her out of the tank that evening, Tammy was more than a tad annoyed and had a good long cry on the hard stone floor of the Serpent's Lair. Knowing Allison and Myra, she was utterly convinced they had all put commands to make her 'slut out' in public, and make her an even more incorrigible sex fiend that she already was. She had definitely gotten a very late start, but exposed to Allison she had really been making up fast for lost time. 

We denied this of course, but mentioned that this was 'Coal to Newcastle' anyway since she, Allison and now Myra usually couldn't resist any opportunity now to 'slut out' in public anyway. Well, it was true!

Slightly mollified, Tammy let the three of us take her to dinner, where the three gals couldn't resist roaming their hands over each other and nearly started a Lesbian orgy in the ladies room with their antics, driving a pair of women customers into leaving the restaurant in hysterics, and titillating another woman who was quite willing to watch... and with a little persuasion would have been perhaps willing to participate. 

I eventually dragged them out and we just finished our dinner before we could be asked to leave by the Manager who made it fairly clear that he didn't wish us to return anytime soon. Frankly I didn't blame him. It's hard to live with 3 women whose sex drive doesn't seem to have an off-switch, or even a neutral gear. It's also hard to remain angry at any naked woman, let alone three of them in your bed when they tried to make it up to me by being very, very nice to me for the next couple hours until I agreed to forgive them.

One reason their moods were so upbeat was we had finally set a date for the long promised and much delayed San Francisco vacation trip. Tammy was going to return to San Diego, finish one minor investigation she had been working on and then put in her retirement papers since she had 'done her twenty', having entering the Navy after High School, and did ten years there before completing another ten years in Civil Service. 

She resolved that she was 'done'. She would either make her new home with Tiny or with us... and if she could manage to get and keep both options, even better. After the retirement was finalized she thought that she would need a week or so to pack afterwards (she didn't have much stuff) and then she'd be all ready to move to Texas. We figured on about three weeks then, and we make our plane and hotel reservations.

*******

On Tammy's last night of this visit, the ladies had themselves a magnificent and utterly memorable evening. Wearing their three matching LBD's with full accessories, we were the non-stop focal point of attention wherever we went. Dinner was the usual three-course banquet of fine food, endearing conversation and non-stop exhibitionism. Allison went so far as to leave our phone number with an interested young lady who spent her entire meal staring at us with undisguised envy. She did eventually call us and later spent an interesting evening or two frolicking with us, but she somehow wasn't really a 'fit' with us and with a little counseling from Myra, she eventually moved on and eventually found a different, and more suitable set of lovers that she could stay and grow with. 

After dinner, there were a few stops at some clubs where the women could dance but we really had a bit too much attention from the single male wolves looking for meat for everyone to really let down their hair and enjoy themselves. There are occasional drawbacks to overt public exhibitionism, as the girls were starting to discover to their unhappiness. We gave up after the third club, failing to find anyplace where the girls could play a little bit without being harassed or bothered.

The evening finished up not unexpectedly at Nancy's tattoo and piercing parlor, where tonight it was Myra's turn to get her nipple rings, the same gold style as her other lovers, but with an emerald that matched her Set dress. We got Myra seated in the piercing chair and pretty much completely exposed her to view. Allison started to query Nancy about exotic clit and other vaginal area piercings, and obviously becoming more and more aroused by the idea by the moment. 

There was a far too brief discussion and it was decided to start with a simple hood piercing for each lady with a gold round head at the bottom near the clit head and each ladies gemstone mounted up at the top for decoration. Once those were done, they were still in to mood for more, and decided that matching tongue piercings would be an excellent accompaniment to the hood pierces. Each gal received two gold bar piercings, one near the tip of the tongue for stimulating clits and another one a bit farther back for stimulating my cock. 

The girls couldn't resist trying out their new piercings, even while in the store, and Allison pulled Nancy' skirt down and began exploring Nancy's own numerous cunt piercings with her now hyper sensitive tongue. The four women got to enjoy several minutes of a delightful daisy chain before the door chime sounded and Nancy had to rush to get dressed to handle another late night customer. 

The party was still far from over. Everyone that night in bed together got to try out all of their new piercings in a proper erotic environment. Actually, yes... Nancy had come home with us too for the night. By morning they were all exhausted but happy, and if it was a side benefit to me that their tongues were now a bit too sore to talk for a couple of days, I'd never be the one to admit that it was nice to have a few days of relative peace and quiet in the house.

**********

Life began to get down to a simple routine again, I began finishing off the last few needed improvements for some houses that I had bought some time ago to repair and then 'flip', and Allison would either help me on most days or assist Myra on days that she conducted group therapy sessions. I could tell that Myra's work did fascinate Allison more than mine did.

Allison asked me one day out of the blue, "What would you think if I went back to school, particularly nursing school to get at least a LPN (or Licensed Practical Nurse) certification so that I could work with Myra and become a trained professional Psychiatric Nurse?"

She felt her life had been so fucked up for so long that she really strongly felt the need now to maybe try and help others. She certainly had little inclination to return to either ladies clothing retail or even elementary school teaching, as she had done in Denver and she needed something new (other than) to occupy her life. I hugged her and kissed her a couple of dozen times and we agreed that she could start immediately upon our return from San Francisco, with everyone's 100% full support.

Allison now had a fixed goal in life (other than being by Myra's and my side forever as our lovers) and she started to attack all of my old EMS and anatomy textbooks with a vengeance to get an early start. By the time we all left for our vacation two weeks later, I'm certain she had learned and retained more than most ECA's (Emergency Care Attendants, the lowest rung of the EMT ladder) would have remembered even with their longer formal classroom training. I was very proud of my girl! 

A few days before the plane flight I called Tiny to find out when he was driving up from Lovett for the San Francisco trip with us, and was delighted to find out that he was arriving the evening before. I cleared my schedule, leaving Allison and Myra to their lengthy debates as to what limited parts of their wardrobe they were going to take. I thought fifteen outfits for seven days was a bit excessive but I was outvoted. Naturally, their 'Sets' and LBD's plus all their accessories were the first garments packed.

The moment Tiny pulled into my driveway I was ready for him. We dropped his bags in the spare bedroom and immediately hightailed it out of there. I took Tiny to a local neighborhood sports bar that did have at least one semi-quiet corner where we could talk privately. This being "guy talk", it featured none of exotic circuitous dilly-dallying that women so love and I immediately let Tiny know exactly what was going on in no uncertain terms. 

Starting with, "Tiny, yes or no, do you love Tammy and are you willing to propose to her?" 

Tiny answer was equally blunt, "If I thought she would say 'Yes,' I would propose in a heartbeat." 

"Well, finish up your beer, most of the jewelers' stay open late here, but let's not push it. Trust me, you're going to need an engagement ring... soon."

See! Wasn't that was simple and straightforward? It also avoids 99% of the drama women do seem to love and live for.

I told Tiny to play it cool and just 'go along with the ride', it would be bumpy but the end destination would be so worth it. He found a ring he liked and agreed before our return to the house to allow the women have their fun with their matchmaking. I want to say for the record now, that not even Myra in her most delusional moment ever had the slightest thought of popping Tiny into the tank to find out what was making him avoid commitment to Tammy. 

Tiny had a more than a few secrets of his own also, but I think he handled his past well and didn't brood upon it. He was mentally healthy and well adjusted – his and Tammy's problems could be easily resolved with simpler (and much safer) means.

***********

We arrived in San Francisco and got checked into our Union Square hotel by early afternoon. We had reserved a nice suite that had two adjoining rooms, one each for Tammy and Tiny if they wanted separate rooms. The women performed their first costume change and returned each wearing a sundress with a matching pullover sweater. San Francisco can be nearly always cool and windy, and the weather can be very variable depending what side of the hills you're are on.

Arrangements had been already made in advance and very soon room service arrived with a picnic basket lunch for us. Allison and Myra each grabbed an extra blanket from the bedrooms and we were off. Allison gave the waiting taxi driver instructions to drive to the entrance of Baker Beach and gave him some extra money, in addition to paying for the running meter, so he could wait for us for until 5 p.m.

Tiny didn't quite know what to expect but soon it dawned on him that his lady friends wanted to take him to the most famous 'clothing optional' beach in the Bay Area. Today it wasn't too cold or windy, and many sun worshipers were to be found everywhere, mostly nude. Tammy picked a spot that wasn't too crowded but still well in sight of other nudists and, immediately after spreading one of the blankets, unfastened and stepped out of her sundress. She wasn't nude yet (she had wanted to give Tiny a little bit of a show first) and then slowly unfastening her strapless demi-bra and then finally slowly but decisively dropped her skimpy thong panties. She then thrust her arms at her hips and encouraged Tiny to "hurry up and drop them, Bubba!" He complied, but very shyly. 

Seeing Tiny naked before her at last, Tammy smiled and kissed Tiny (copping a little feel of his cock in the process) and said, "Nice and fat just the way I like my studs. Come with me lover, let's go for a swim." 

With that she grabbed his hand and they ran together toward the surf. To this day I still don't understand why Tammy had gotten it into her head that Tiny was well... tiny. He was of at least average size and had enough girth for two cocks. I guess the one time she had seen him previously (back in SEAL days) he had come out of ice cold water or something of the sort. Don't ladies understand about the relationship between cold and shrinkage? 

Allison, Myra and I were now all nude also and ready to join Tammy and Tiny. The coastal Pacific water off San Francisco is never warm and none of us could really splash for too terribly long without having to warm up a bit afterwards on the blanket.

I had to admit that the women's idea of an immediate 'ice breaker' worked perfectly. Tiny soon got over his embarrassment and shyness about nudity and began joking about ice cold, rock hard nipples and cock 'shrinkage' with the best of us. By the time we left the beach at 5 p.m. and returned to the hotel everyone was sandy, salty and very happy. 

Allison wasted no time in announcing that she wanted to take a shower but Tammy had already beat her to it, grabbing Tiny by the hand, dragging him into the bathroom and into the shower stall with her where they had great fun soaping and cleaning off the other, before emerging much later. Finally later, Allison, Myra and I started to take our shower, but we hurried as much as possible only doing the essentials rather than starting an erotic interlude in there. 

I think the women wanted to see what Tammy and Tiny were now up to. It was to no ones surprise that when we came out of the shower naked and still wet, we found the two of them fucking earnestly and passionate on our bed. We smiled. I think the ice had been broken for good.

Allison didn't skip a beat, and yelled at Tammy to either scoot over and share the bed or take it to your private bedroom. Tammy scooted over, and Allison plopped onto her back, spread her legs and asked, "If anyone was available to give her the good fucking she desperately now needed." I hastened to oblige her and soon Tiny and I were all fucking our women side by side. 

Myra watched for a bit, and then found a position where she could play with both Allison's and Tammy's tits. Soon I switched to being on my back so Allison could ride my cock and Myra could put her clit in my mouth while they both kissed each other. Tiny completed his first orgasm into Tammy, but stayed rock hard while he too moved on his back and let Tammy ride him while she moved just close enough to lean over to join Allison and Myra's kisses.

Eventually we both came, fairly close together and we both left the bed for awhile as our three female lovers all joined into a scrumptious daisy chain and ate each other's cunts for at least the next hour.

I asked Tiny, if he had ever seen anything so beautiful before as the sight of these three women who all loved each other to the deepest parts of their hearts. Tiny had to admit that, he hadn't, but it was indeed a lovely sight to behold. He had known Tammy was bisexual and that if he married her he would still probably have to share her at least occasionally with another female lover. Now he had seen 'the worst' he knew he could accept and handle it, and probably even enjoy it. 

He still had one final concern... Allison. He knew that I had been one of Tammy's lovers, that I could now remain as such, but what would be his relationship with the rest of my lovers, Myra and especially Allison, whom he had known nearly as long as I had!

I sighed and poked him in the ribs. Go over there and put your cock in her mouth and ask her. Shrugging, he did just that. I entered Tammy's now very talented mouth and we both eventually came into their waiting mouths. Allison held Tiny's butt firmly in place to prevent him from coming anywhere other than in her mouth, when he tried to pull out to come over her tits instad. Allison and Tammy now shared their cum from each of their lover's between then and their tongues seemed lost in each other's mouths. 




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 08



Tiny watched in amazement, "I guess that means I'm family now." He stated matter of factly. 

Myra grabbed each of our cocks in her hand, suggesting since the other girls were going to be busy for awhile, she could certainly use a nice fat pair of cocks like ours and we settled into an interesting sandwich, with me on the bottom inside her cunt, and Tiny's fat cock filling her ass from behind while her mouth sucking on the tits of her still cum-swapping and kissing lovers. 

It was a delightful start to the evening and it was only with great difficulty that I got the women separated long enough to get them dressed for us to make our 9 p.m. dinner reservation at one of the best seafood restaurants on Fisherman's Wharf. 

There the final round of surprises took place. After Allison, Myra and I had repeatedly kicked Tiny's shins under the table for at least ten minutes, he finally pulled out his jewelers box, got down onto his knee before Tammy, and he proposed in a surprisingly strong voiced and confident manner to his long time dream partner, who wasted no time at all in hopping into his arms to kiss him and answer, "Yes" at least a hundred times!

Sensing the timing could not be more ideal and seeing the tears streaming down Allison's face, I reached into my own pocket and pulled out a jeweler's box of my own. The very same one I had bought so many years ago for Allison before our separation, I had kept it all these years and now it was ready for it's much delayed but originally intended purpose. I also got down onto my knee before Allison, opened the box, and revealing the engagement ring. 

"Allison, I bought this for you many years ago but never got the opportunity to give this to you. I swore to you a few years ago, talking on the phone with you in Denver, that if you stayed sober for a year, I could come to your side and never again leave it willingly. Today I will fulfill that oath, and reaffirm those promises to you, that if you would become my wife, now and forever, I would never again willingly leave your side."

Allison was in shocked silence with her jaw hanging wide open, she couldn't move or even blink it seemed. Even Myra, whom I had told about the ring many years ago, was agog with disbelief. 

The entire restaurant was dead silent, until one women spoke saying "Lady if you don't accept that man's offer right now, you're the biggest damn fool I've ever seen in my life. Hell, if you don't marry him, I will!" 

Her girlfriend dining with her joined in, "And if he doesn't want her (pointing at her dinner companion) then he can have me instead!" 

Everyone in the restaurant broke apart laughing and the tension was gone. Allison leapt out of her chair and into my arms, nearly knocking me over in the process and just cried and cried and cried, finally managing a sobbing "Yes, I do... for now and forever."

Eventually after getting back to our seats we got a standing round of applause from all of the other tables. There was still one remaining bit of feminine drama left. Allison faced Myra across the table and took both of her hands in hers. 

"Pete had given me his ring and I have accepted him as my Master. Tiny has given Tammy hers. Now only you are left without someone else's mark. If you will accept it, I would like for us also to exchange and wear a pair of rings to mark and signify the love we two also have for each other. If we can find those rings tomorrow, will you wear mine, swearing to never to forsake it or me?"

Myra just leaned forward and deeply soul kissed Allison and then me, the three of us pledged our love and lives together. Tammy had a small tiff at being forgotten and demanded to be included into our little private love circle. At length all five of us just held hands together, with Tiny quipping that he wasn't about to wear Pete's or I his, so they could just forget that idea before even getting started. We laughed.

The restaurant refused to give us our check for the meal, stating that the dinner was 'on the house' and we eventually left, receiving the well-wishes of nearly the entire restaurant staff and most of the other patrons who remained. We've visited this restaurant again with every return visit we've made to San Francisco, and never once have they forgotten our names upon seeing us. Once, they even relocated another couple from 'our regular table' and we picked up their check along with ours in thanks.

In an obscure Chinatown jewelry store the next day that catered to the fetish trade, the three women found a jeweler that could make them the ring they had decided upon, a ring with three gold rope bands intertwined together mounting at the top three small but brilliant gemstones, one for each of their "colors." This was a special complicated order and we paid accordingly, but cheerfully. The rings arrived about a month later and they were perfect. 

The women exchanged them that very night at a private ceremony for just the three of them, driving us husbands to-be out of the house with a, "go away and see some guy flick with lots of explosions or something, your wives need some quality time alone." 

We hastened to obey.



Eventualities: Allison Ch. 09



The rest of the San Francisco trip was pretty much a blur, we shopped and went sightseeing every day, ate at a superb restaurant every night. No one wanted the visit to end and we all left little bits of our heart behind at that wonderful city by the bay. We've thought often about moving back there but the timing hasn't ever been right to do so, although we certainly hope to someday and we all visit at least twice a year now.

There was really now only two pieces left of important unfinished business. Tammy had finalized her retirement and had her things shipped to Tiny's house in Lovett. We alternated visiting each other most weekends, us driving down one weekend, them driving up to visit us the next and usually 'resting' the third weekend at our own homes, giving our loved ones personal quality time. It was a very good arrangement. 

The women started doing serious wedding planning, with both bridezillas going completely overboard and determined to make it the single greatest (or at least most erotic) day of their lives. Tiny and I tried to stay out of the planning as much as possible and we just nodded our heads to whatever was asked of us. The only major sticking point was wedding location. Some serious thought was given to getting married all together in the Caribbean, as we still had the vast majority of the Foundation Money to go collect. This remaining problem was now becoming our other major priority that needed to be handled. 

In the end, Tiny made a simple request that seemed to settle the location problem. Neither of the brides to be were particularly religious but no officiating judge or justice of the peace seemed to appeal to their sense of drama. Tiny offered this solution, "If drama is what you want, then there is no place better to be married in than 'The Church' in Lovett."

Lovett, as I think I've said several times before is a very odd sort of place. 

It had been settled at various times since the early 1800's by various "outcast" groups of settlers, usually having odd and peculiar religious customs and practices. By the late 1960's and onward, odd and peculiar was definitely en vogue, and the County had a bit of a population growth with hippies and 'new age' folks discovering the existing quaintness and joining their own oddities into the community and fitting right in. Until the recent growth of a local software company and a small biological research farm, the single largest business in the area was the Nudist Colony, apparently one of the larger and well-known ones in the country which attracted a good bit of this sort of tourism. 

"The Church" technically fell within the boundaries of the nudist camp and had embraced at least some of the core beliefs of every generation of the towns new immigrants, but particularly focused its emphasis on Honesty and becoming a better person inside. Tiny regularly attended this church and asked his wife if that location would be alright. She immediately agreed and Allison tentatively agreed pending a visit to see it for her self.

We visited the following weekend and it was a bit of a mental change to have to undress and go nude into church, rather than the usual dressing up in ones Sunday best. Instead of a cross at the altar of the church there were instead flowers. By the end of the service I found that I had enjoyed it immensely and so had Allison. I saw the point of the whole thing nearly immediately. Honesty was seemingly the number one core belief and it seemed to permeate everything in Lovett County. Shopkeepers seemed to actually respect their customers (and not just their money), husbands and wives seem to communicate better with each other and most importantly most people did what they felt inside was 'right inside' and the best thing to do, not necessarily the most advantageous thing to do. All of this was refreshing, but decidedly odd, especially with today's fast paced (and rude) modern big city life.

Being nude in church surrounded by several hundred other nude couples and individuals, I felt that there was no place in anyone's soul whatsoever for any form of deception. Literally, we had everything "hanging out" and there was nothing left to hide. I decided that I could grow very accustomed to this. We agreed this location option would work very well for both of our weddings and the Great Joint Wedding planning sessions began in true earnest. 

**********

We finally had to make a decisive plan for reclaiming Alfred's retirement stash from its offshore bank. We must have tossed a hundred plans around of the last few months for the best way to accomplish this but in the end we settled for the simplest plan. Tammy had one of her government contacts to track down the whereabouts of a certain forger that she had once met in a Naval investigation (he had been creating virtually perfect Government Military and Dependent ID's that locals were using to shop at the PX and Base Commissary). He was more than willing, for a small fee, to alter Alfred's and May's passports to fit two of us. 

In the end, Tammy and I were the ones who went. 

The plan went so smoothly we had to wonder if we were just dreaming, or if something else far worse was wrong and we just didn't know it yet. We established our identities at the bank and had the account unfrozen. We then set up a new secure transfer account with the bank's IT guy so that we could easily do future computer on-line wire transfers to one of just two approved accounts only. Allison's 'Settlement' account and a new Texas based account we had set up under our Foundation name. We had begun all of the IRS non-profit paperwork awhile earlier (it takes forever) and were expecting our final NPO authorization nearly any day now. Everything was done in several hours with no drama! 

Tammy and I resisted the urge to celebrate and enjoy some proper sun on a pure white sandy beach, and we decided not to press our so far perfect luck and we headed home almost immediately, still giggly with excitement. 

Alfred's slush fund was even more massive than I had guessed in my most optimistic estimates, and it was still growing! The wily old bugger had apparently written some secret computer code into the Syndicates main accounting computer (wherever that was, I did get the IP address for Tammy to research) that transferred small unnoticeable percentages of each individual transaction nearly every day. The Syndicate might have been recently decapitated, but it still looked like there was some in-bound money flow occurring, albeit significantly reduced from what it had been just a few months ago. It looked like they had been hurt, maybe badly, but they were not yet entirely out of the game. 

Frankly, we had done our part and we had all suffered enough! We quietly agreed that the remains of the Syndicate was now definitely someone else's problem. I just hoped in the years to come I we would not regret that decision.

Just a few drops of rain can lead to a flood and Alfred's money had definitely flooded. Our Foundation was funded now for life and try as we might, we could just barely spend the interest, let alone significantly touch the account principal. Future generations long after us will be praising Alfred & May's names.

The Foundation finally legally established, we held a brief but official Board of Directors meeting. Allison, Tammy, Myra and I were the four voting Managing Directors and Tiny was elected Director of Charitable Operations. He would be the primary person responsible for carefully selecting the worthy individuals, groups and organizations that would receive our funding, approval of which by at least three of the four members was considered 'Agreed'. Our first checks went to several SDPD oriented charities and then the hospital in San Diego that had saved Allison's life, after her rescue. Her attending Urologist also received a check also more than suitable for establishing a Liver and Kidney specialty clinic at the hospital. 

Just before the end of that meeting, Tiny submitted a proposal of his own. He handed me a letter from the County of Lovett, authorizing the Lovett Country Volunteer Fire Department to extend an employment offer to one Peter Wells the position of Medical Services Director. 

This was a big surprise! I didn't know Tiny had been passing my resume around down there and the whole idea came as a bit of a shock to me. The money, hardly my most important criteria these days, was certainly suitable and idea of us all living permanently together now in Lovett had considerable appeal. 

Allison of course loved the idea and if it was up to her we would have immediately accepted and started packing. Myra was frankly lukewarm over the idea; she badly wanted to go wherever we went, but hated the thought of losing her consultancy practice and part-time teaching. 

Tiny paved over this little bump in the road by pulling out two additional letters, one also from the County offering her the position of County Director of Mental Health Services (with a 'huge' departmental staff of just three people, we soon found out) and the other letter being from the Lovett County Junior College inviting her to teach any health or science programs she might desire there. 

That roadblock now finally gone, both of my women were already mentally packing for a permanent move to Lovett with Tammy and Tiny. 

My decision to accept became a moot point. On our next trip down, I began looking for either a very large house to remodel for the three of us or find the perfect site to build a new one from scratch. Both Allison and Myra were hinting that their biological clocks were ticking and some child-rearing after the weddings should soon be a priority. Myra had been visiting a couple of ObGyn doc's along with Allison, and none of them could find any physical reason that should prevent Myra from now bearing a child to full term. 

Allison told me privately later that when Myra had received this news she had cried non-stop for hours with sheer joy. She felt that if Myra could indeed bear my baby to full term this would bury forever those evil words spoken to her by her own father that she was a "A worthless cunt who couldn't hold her babies that no man would want to keep." 

That one act alone would do more for her happiness than a hundred doses of Batch #31.

**********

The women finally coordinated their final plans for the great Lovett mass wedding and a date was selected kind of by happenstance. While in Lovett one weekend, we were in the town fabric and quilting shop on the town square. The girls wanting to get some banner and decorative wall hanging ideas and were also looking at ribbons with the two shops ladies as they chatted about the approaching wedding date. 

When told the then proposed date, a young girl of about eight, the grand-daughter of the shop owner, shook her head at once and said, "Oh no, not the eighth. That's a bad day and won't do at all." She then seemed to fade out for a moment, her eyes became unfixed and then she said in a very confident tone of voice, "Make it the twenty-eighth instead. That's a much better day, you won't regret it." 

She then went back to coloring in her coloring book and paid us no further heed. As we left the shop, the girls finding some ribbons to use for decoration, the store owner, Sarah, followed the girls out and spoke with them privately for a moment until both nodded agreement and she returned inside. Later the women filled me in; the wedding date was officially changed to the 28th. 

Why? Everyone in town knew that 'the sight' ran in that family. The senior-aged shop owner had a fair bit, her daughters had virtually none, but the one grand-daughter Lucy had it like an interstate highway. Nothing she had ever predicted had been proven false. If she said the eighth was a bad day, then that was more than enough for nearly everyone.

Come to find out later the 8th was a very bad day. An early tropical storm blew suddenly out of the Gulf and submerged everything between Corpus Christi and Freeport. There was major flooding and roads were washed out everywhere. No one could travel anywhere for the next two days and it would have been dangerous indeed if our guests had been driving on those small county roads to Lovett under those circumstances. 

The decision to change the date probably saved lives and I never forgot it. Lucy was always welcome at our house and to visit us at any time at our jobs. 

Lucy's mother Lorelei was always a bit distant to everyone including her own daughter. She lived in Lovett with her elderly mother Sarah but kept to herself and didn't interact much with others. She was rumored to be a bit 'slow' and free spirit that marched to the sound of music that only she could hear. There was no father present in Lucy's life. 

She spent most of her time with either her grandmother or her youngest aunt Susan and her boyfriend, Alec. They were both handicapped, him being nearly blind and her without most of the use of her legs but they were without a doubt the two single happiest people together I'd ever met. Their joy and enthusiasm for life and each other were viral and infected everyone who crossed their path. They soon became some of our best friends but never our lovers (there was only room in their hearts for each other) and both were filled to bursting. Their story is one well worth telling, but it's not my place to recount it.

 **********

It would have been a major hassle to change all of the Foundation paperwork to our new Lovett address so we decided it would remain as a P.O. Box in Houston for at least now. This also provided us with a little bit of privacy at well, even now that the worst of the Syndicate arrests were over (it was just minor fish left now supposedly) everyone still wanted to keep a very low profile. Allison, Myra and I were still mostly staying in Houston for the moment, the women staying close for regular fittings of their gowns, which of course we men were not permitted to see but were told that they were 'absolutely unique'. I had wondered how a bride was going to wear white at a nude wedding. Boy, would I soon find out!

Checking the P.O. Box one day in Houston, just about as that sudden Tropical Storm was starting to hit, I saw a pair of usual letters that quite caught my eye. The first envelope was gold with silver details and bore some sort of crest. Inside was a brief hand-written letter and three appointment cards that would admit the bearers to an extremely exclusive and private ladies salon and spa, where walk-ins were absolutely not welcome. 

Only Myra had ever heard of the spa name before and only vaguely knew it was insanely exclusive and catered to an 'invitation only' membership. She promised to make a few calls to find out more if she could, and thought she once used have a casual girlfriend who ran in those circles. 

The other letter was a personal invitation to set an appointment to meet and have tea with a certain Mr. & Mrs. Henderson at our earliest future convenience. This was addressed to and specifically included all four of us as Directors of the Foundation. 

Someone had somehow discovered a few of our secrets, and the question now remained whether to 'spring the trap' as it was by having the girls attend the Spa and/or the four of us making that appointment for tea. Again, at the end we relied on simplicity. We arranged for the tea appointment for the next Tuesday afternoon first. After a lot digging, we felt we had learned enough about the Spa so that it could wait for another day or two. It was exotic certainly but probably mostly harmless.

For our tea I dressed in my best suit, an expensive one Allison had recently bought for me that I had to admit looked pretty sharp. The three girls after considerable debate decided to avoid any subtlety and go straight for the jugular and they wore their three Set dresses. I was just grateful they didn't pick the out LBD's, sans panties and spend the whole tea sitting spread-eagle!

The address we were given was in a very exclusive neighborhood, near the River Oaks Country Club and must have encompassed at least 20 acres of wooded land, and high walls and a security system that seemed well beyond 'state of the art'. We were greeted at the door by a genuine English butler and escorted to into a open sunny room where we were cordially greeted by the Henderson's. 

He seemed to be in his very late 60's and she looked to be either quite a bit younger or had remarkable genes and a superb stylist. Her eyes seemed mesmerizing and sharp, and she seeming quite capable of completely sizing the four of us up in mere moments. Her eyes and her hands stayed constantly busy and often played with a large gold and girasol (fire opal) ring on her hand. 

Indeed, she was no person at all for small talk, and 'business' began even before the first sip of tea and tasty tidbit was consumed. She started with the large artillery first to soft us up.

"Allison, I see you're much improved since you have left the control of the Syndicate in San Diego, and I also must start by saying you have our gratitude for removing a certain Doctor "M" from his very active and overly invasive practice. I can assure you, that the two of us, and some of the men and women that we represent and can speak for, appreciate the many sacrifices that each of you has personally made."

Apparently, their organization, known very informally as the 'Ten Thousand', (ala Zenophon's classical Greek army that had humbled ancient Persia) was sort of an indirect rival to the Syndicates organization. They tended to be much more concerned with political power rather than overt uses of personal power. Those kinds of folks did exist in their own organization, she freely admitted, but for every person that was out to build an empire, there were at least two others that were trying in their own quiet way to make the world a slightly better place. We all nodded at that.

"Off course," she admitted with a smile, "that kind of extreme wealth and personal power, even if not exercised in evil ways, does lend to make a lot of grown men and women parade about their fetishes, perversions and sexual toys, trying to make the rest of us envious." She said with a smile and Mr. Henderson, who remained silent for most of the tea, nodded in agreement, before she continued. 

"Why you… and why now, you are asking?" She stated. "In short because we know just about everything there is to know about you and it took us more time and money than you would believe getting that information. You have been under some sort of light surveillance by some of us since your return from San Diego. You just can't expect at least fifty Syndicate members, including one of their highest, to be killed and hope to keep everything quiet. It took us a while to find the right leads and they all eventually led to you, but we liked what we saw. You wield your personal powers with unusual restraint. I must confess you did quite an excellent job concealing your money trail from the Caribbean. Ninety-Nine out of one hundred people would probably still be sitting on that island, drinking exotic drinks and plotting ways to spend an amount of money that would make even Sam Walton sit up in his coffin and take notice. But none of you are that 99%. In the end, it is your Foundation work that makes us believe firmly that you four are the sorts of people we want at our side and at our backs, quietly doing what good we all can and when and where we can. Why do we want you at our backs if things get interesting? Rather think instead if you would also rather have our people ready to protect yours. Too many people now know about you, your days of anonymity far from the eyes of the Syndicate are probably nearly over, if they don't know about you and your friends already. The toppling of the cream of their order hurt them, oh yes, but they are recovering and they badly want to know exactly who hurt them. Now that I have hopefully given you a good scare, let's discuss other more pleasant things for awhile, and when things get boring we can discuss our newest fetishes and compare our boy and girl toys," she giggled with a winking and a smile. 




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 09



That pretty well burst our last bubble of privacy, and we filled the Henderson in with more details of Allison's life inside the Syndicate, our recovery of her and our group rehabilitation efforts. 

She then showed us a small glass medicine bottle marked Batch #29 and asked, if we know anything about it? We admitted we had some similar vials of a Batch #31, but that we were nearly out of it and saw some potential for its use as a helpful psychiatric tool, rather than a mind-reprogramming drug. After more cautious discussion, we agreed to provide them with one of our last remaining vials in return for access to a fresh supply of it… if it could be re-synthesized. The Henderson's seemed to feel that they had the ability to easily see this accomplished. They already had another (and rather unusual) couple involved in the final stages of tracking down the final needed rare ingredients.

While we did not figuratively hop into bed politically with the Henderson's, we ironed out a handshake deal that everyone could live with for now. The way rank was calculated within the order was fairly complicated and I never did figure it out entirely, but the Henderson's were very near the top. Apparently she was on the High Council of the Ten. We felt sure that we could and would work with her while we got a better feel for what the others might be up to. She did give us a hint that some loyalties within the order might be a bit 'uncertain' at present. 

Other than her, I was given two other names that she felt at this time we could safely talk with freely.

We were next invited to attend a weekly get-together this Friday evening at their private club, where confidentiality and privacy were the bywords. If nothing else, as Mrs. Henderson suggested as we got ready to leave, "That will at least give your lovely girls a proper place to wear those deliciously obscenely short dresses and dance to their hearts content, without getting gang-raped, unless they they're in the mood for it!" She laughed.

We exchanged a last question each as we left. We wanted to make sure that Tiny and Tammy could be added to the Henderson guest list for the Club. Their names were already listed… so much for our last remaining secret.

"Had the girls been to the Spa yet?" Not yet, we admitted. but it was soon planned. She then offered the girls a final word of advice.

"Make plans when you're going to expect to stay for most of the day, and have all of your appetites hungry before going."

While going out the front door, I asked her what were the big leads that had led her to us? She smiled and lifted up her skirt showing her naked cunt, which glittering with multiple erotic and intimate piercings. 

"We share the same friend who does all our piercing too." With a cheery smile she bid us good evening and we returned home. Certainly with a lot more now to think about than when we had left the house earlier. 

It was decided that the girls would go to the Spa this Friday morning and get all primped up for attending the club later that night. Everyone thought they knew what they were in for, but we had all seriously under calculated.

********

Friday morning dawned brightly. I dragged the girls out of bed kicking and screaming, early enough before they could start any of their usual morning sexual Olympics and dropped the three of them off with their invitations in hand at the door of the spa right at the dot of 10 a.m. We rode today in style too, after seeing the mess that the small country roads were in, the aftermath of the storm the other day, we decided my old SUV wasn't quite up to those kinds of flooding conditions. This was the Texas Gulf Coast – hurricanes and bad tropical storms happen and when they occurred again I needed to be able to get my girls to safety if necessary. 

That didn't leave many choices and I ended up getting the Hummer simply because I thought I could handle high water and off-road conditions the best of the other choices. I hated the image (small prick=big car) and the low fuel efficiency, but security and live-saving ability were my two highest criteria. The health and safety of my girls, I'm afraid, is far more important to me than global warming or any coming energy crisis. 

I made a mental note to get an emergency gasoline tank put in at the main Fire Station, so that the department would be prepared for the next emergency. The next storm might do even more damage and isolate the County for days or even weeks, and our main Fire Station was on one of the very few slighter higher spots in town. Preparedness was becoming my new mantra.

I worried for quite a bit and admitted to having a very nervous day while waiting to pick up the ladies from the Spa. We had all been assured repeated by Mrs. Henderson that the girls would enjoy every moment they spent there (she went at least twice a month herself), but I was itching to hear all of the details, which I was finally given far too much long later.

**********

When the girls entered the Spa, the high level of security was noticeable. The front door had an electronic lock along with several manual bolt locks and, after a fairly lengthy examination of the Invitation, which included scanning its bar code, and only then after a manual paper check for an independent verification of their reservation, were they admitted inside. 

They filled out a seemingly endless amount of forms, each more unusual and slightly odd than the previous. These forms covered a complete medical history and seemed to ask a lot of very personal and sexual related ones, at the end they had barely filled half the info out, such was their confusion. They were then passed through a second high security door (that they doubted even Tiny in a rage could burst through it) and then they were admitted to a small locker room area where a mostly nude serving girl, wearing a white collar and cuffs directed the ladies to all undress and she would attend to their things. 

There was no robe offered, and once naked, they were ushered into the next room which contained three large hot tubs and they were directed to get into the first, which was foamy and rather exciting for the girls to bathe in. They proceeded in turn into to the next two tubs, the first to rinse, the last, when clean and sparkling, for 'relaxing' where they were soon joined by three other women that entered the three baths a few moments behind them.

Their names were Penny, Rose and Linda, they were all in their late 30's, just like my girls and seemed very natural with their nudity and obvious sexual love for each other. They had been longtime clients of the Spa but their 'normal day' was Wednesdays, not Friday. 

Penny was a vivacious tall blondish-brunette, with good big bone structure and probably not an ounce of body fat. She worked out every single day and did advanced yoga most Saturday mornings. She seemed impatient with life, determined to live it as fast as possible to see and experience as much as she could. Her eyes told a different story. There was intense pain behind them, and looked as if they belonged to a woman decades older than she was. Penny was unquestionably the public leader of their little group, but when in private she seemed to defer often to the others, and always deferred to her man.

Linda was a tall and also athletically slim woman with long raven dark hair that reached the top crack of her ass. She didn't quite share Penny's haunted eyes, but the two women had been attached virtually at the hip for many years and had seen and been through quite a lot together. Linda was Penny's rock and gently tried to keep her on an even emotional footing. She loved sex with Penny (and now Rose) and at one time had led a fairly wild life, but had worn when she married her husband a few years ago that he would be the only man in her life, and she had kept that oath.

Rose was the 'new girl', an impish strawberry brunette with red highlights in her hair. She had recently rush down to Houston to 'rescue her boyfriend Chris' , and soon now to be her husband, in what has to be the wildest comedy of errors I had ever heard from. The fact that Penny was still 'technically' married to Chris (the amicable divorce very soon to be finalized) who was engaged to her own long time lover and now having lesbian sex with her to-be husbands ex, was nearly unfathomable. There seemed to be a happy ending now with everyone happily in love (or at least lust), but there were hints that the situation for awhile had been extremely tragic.

Allison made the introductions of her own group of lovers and the six of them settled in and got comfortable together. Within a few moments several more attendants arrived with trays offering food and drinks and all settled in with a snack or two and Mimosas (plain OJ for Allison). In another moment, a lady in an extremely brief outfit that screamed 'naughty nurse' came up to the tub and started asking Allison, Myra and Tammy questions about the unfilled in information blocks in their paperwork, but were stumped by one odd question they were at a loss to answer. 

Penny laughed and offered a translation. "She's asking you if you are a Dom or a Sub, do you serve a Master or does someone serve you?" Allison was slightly taken aback and still not sure how to answer, until Myra piped right in. 

"Allison serves a Master but she in turn is my Mistress, I serve her. Tammy, here, is just a slut." Myra then stuck her pierced tongue out at Tammy and everyone laughed. 

Tammy, rarely at a loss for words, came back with "I may be a bisexual slut, but I'm a cute bisexual slut, and with your Mistresses permission later tonight you are going to be spending a lot of quality time making sure my clit is kept nice and polished, while your Mistress turns your cute saucy ass a nice bright cherry red."

The laughing never really abated and soon with Penny's help the rest of the forms were completed. Soon afterwards all six ladies were toweled off dry by attendants and taken to a styling room. Once there, another uniformed lady appeared and asked Allison and Rose if they wished their Subs to attend them today or if they desired them to be processed with 'the others'. Allison replied that she wished for Myra to stay with her for the afternoon.

Rose also agreed. "Penny had been fairly good and not an utter bitch this week and could stay also." Otherwise, she told my girls that Penny, "Comes back so horny that the two of us and our Masters can hardly handle her." 

That really opened the floodgates of conversation with Rose explaining that she most definitely had 'a Master' but Penny also in submission to her. They were all were now very close lesbian lovers, with Penny being a definite submissive and sort of a pain slut at the mercy of everyone. Allison then explained the very similar sexual relationship she and Myra had, with Tammy being an occasional participant. 

It was becoming obvious that all six girls had a great deal together in common, and they began to forge bonds of close friendship that lasted for life.

A pair of hair stylists came in and called for Linda and Allison, the other four girls moved closer to a nearby large sofa and all snuggled in together, still nude. The women each admired the others piercings, Rose, Penny and Linda each having full sets of nipple rings, belly rings and lots of more intimate hardware. It was also noticed that all three girls had identical elaborate lower back tattoos with what seemed to be a crest in the center. This was their proud membership badge for "The Club" they told Allison, which started another squeal of happiness as she related that they would be attending 'The Club' that night as guests (and possible future members).

Myra was fascinated by Penny's full clitoral piercings and the three rings that were on each side of her cunt lips. She asked if she could take a closer look at them and Penny replied she could get as close as she wished. Allowing Myra to examine someone else's cunt was much like showing a starving wolfhound a steak, within a few moments her nose was nearly making contact with her clit.

Penny gently pressed Myra's head, telling her, "You can lick it, if you like." 

Myra needed no further invitation and soon she was on her knees eating the other woman with loud delight, to the encouragement of all. 

All too soon, Penny and Tammy were called up to have their hair done next, which suited Rose and Allison fine because they had started to amuse each other with gentle kisses and soft caresses of the others bare breasts and open spread cunts. There was then a surprise when Penny's stylist started her on her hair, Penny had been wearing a wig - her head was totally bald and she just now received a quick but thorough inspection and close shave! 

Myra, who was now sitting between Rose and Linda, alternating kisses, squealed in near orgasmic delight when she saw Penny's shaved head. "That has got to be the hottest thing I've ever seen! What does it feel like" she asked Rose and Linda, "when she eats you like that?" 

"Heavenly," they both replied with a giggle, "want to find out for yourself?"

Allison definitely did; she was now excited by the idea of having her own pierced and shaved slave girl and her clit was doing her thinking for her. 

When Penny's shave was completed, she immediately knelt before Allison and began eating her clit and slit noisily, with considerable enthusiasm. "Ooo, it does feel sooo good," she cooed, and caressed the small bare head buried into her crotch. 

Penny only licked Allison for a few minutes and then licked each and every other girl in turn for a moment and kissed each of them lightly, allowing her girlfriends a taste of Allison's tasty cunt juices.

At last it was time for Myra and Rose to have their hair done. When asked what styling she wished, Myra just looked at Allison and begged "Please!" 

Allison replied with considerable seriousness, "Is that what you want, my Big Lipped Cunt, to be a shameless pierced and shaved little slave girl, a total and incorrigible slut to be used by everyone around her?" 

Myra nodded and said again, "Please, Mistress, Please." Allison gave her consent and soon all of Myra's short hair was decorating the floor and her head was then shaved smooth. 

The ladies were all called to table for more drinks and a light luncheon but before Allison allowed Myra to sit, she was directed to eat each of the other four ladies, then she could submit to her Mistress' personal inspection. Myra happily complied and Rose directed Penny to do the same, soon everyone had received an orgasm from one of the bald slave girl sluts, who were now ordered to their knees on the floor by their Mistresses feet and hand fed tidbits from their plates. 

While the other ladies relaxed and traded sexual escapades, the two slave girls were ordered to assume a 69 and warned that the one who came first would be severely punished later. Naturally, this drove both of them into a frenzy of licking and sucking to force the other girl to come first, it was close but it was agreed that Myra had made Penny come first.

The women now had manicures and pedicures and a makeup stylist was brought in to handle Rose, Penny and Linda first, since they had preferences already on file. The happy group was now separating but not before Rose and Allison had coordinated plans to meet at a nearby restaurant immediately afterwards. Everyone exchanged hugs, kisses, and sticky fingers until at last they made their farewells for now. 

The makeup artist then suggested various shade themes for daytime and evening, and suggested specific products and items, which were noted onto a sheet for each woman and a copy added to their files for their next visit.

The women expected that they were nearly done, but not so. Now it was time for their Fashion Coordinator, who dressed each girl up in a variety of lingerie; shoes, stockings, garter belts and bras and demi-bras, making each in turn walk down a runway with mirrors on each side. Their posture was adjusted and corrected continually, with the Coordinator asking Allison's permission to, 'Discipline her slave most thoroughly if she continued to slouch and didn't lift her shoulders and tits up better on her next walk'. Chastised, Myra began to perform better and soon a 'recommended' listing of undergarments was completed. 

Allison had mentioned that they were very happy with their existing intimate clothier, at whose name the Coordinator, muttered "Scarcely adequate." Indeed, the new items were found to be a bit superior.

Next came swim wear, although most of it was so skimpy it could hardly be used for any actual swimming. All were thong models that revealed much of the pubic mounds, and tended to become opaque, nearly fully transparent when wet. The girls selected a few styles, one each that was slightly conservative and one model that they might as well have been naked when wearing it. The thong bottoms (especially the skimpiest one) did see some occasional use, but 99% of their swimming was definitely done nude.

Finally dress styles for work, evening and 'play' were suggested. The Coordinator's judgment for each girl was excellent and there were no disagreements. She highly recommended that Tammy be given a proper corset treatment, as she had the perfect waist and hips for it. We agreed to pass this suggestion on to "her Master". Tiny who having discovered the joys of perversion relatively late in life, as Tammy had, was now making up for lost time. Tammy later got her whalebone fixed corset and rarely ever then took it off even for sex, developing eventually a truly classical slim-waisted hourglass figure. 

Myra was modeled before Allison in a number of leather submissive outfits 'suitable for service to a Mistress' and Allison, unable to make up her mind, took the entire lot, all of which got a lot of wear when home alone at night after work. When the last outfit was selected and the final order written up, Allison directed Myra to properly 'thank' the good Coordinator and Myra immediately began to kiss her feet. Allison then asked if she was 'tired and desired her slave to give her a release?' This offer was accepted and she sat in one of the runway side chairs and pulling her short leather skirt upwards, granting Myra full access to her bare (and well pierced) cunt and clit, soon she was squirming in orgasm.

Myra then thanked the Coordinator for giving her the privilege of tasting her delicious cunt and giving her some small release. After a final full Swedish massage, after which each girl was offered the use of one of the house slave girls (or boys) if they desired their cunts eaten, they declined this time, but promised to take them up on that offer on their next visit. 

They were about to dress to leave when they had a message that the Spa Manager would desire a brief word with them. Some silk robes were offered but not accepted and Allison, Myra and Tammy entered his office still nude. 

He was a personable fellow of middle age but good physical condition, named Duncan and he was wearing just a robe himself when he stood, greeted and thanked each of them in turn for coming and hoped they would consider a future membership, as they were indeed "most suitable" potential members. 

Membership fees were discussed and an outrageous sum was suggested (worth every penny of it Allison thought) but the girls sadly declined, mentioning that they would soon be spending much of their time out of the city and unable to attend regularly. A 'Special Limited Membership' offer was suggested, at a reduced price, to which Allison instantly agreed, and signed all three of them up for the next year. She said later it was the best use of her 'Settlement' money that she had ever spent, and looked forward to years of pampered pleasure to make up for all of the prior years of pain and torment.




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 09



As they started to leave, Allison got a wicked glint in her eye and directed her Big Lipped Cunt to properly bid Master Duncan a proper goodbye. Myra immediately dropped to his knees and began kissing his feet and slowly worked up the length of his robe to his now hard and visible cock. Myra took it into her mouth and began sucking it with great earnestness. After a few minutes of this, he requested Allison's permission to cum into the mouth of her slave girl, which she readily gave, and moments later Duncan spent his load into Myra's yearning mouth, after which Allison gave Myra instructions to swallow every drop and thank Master Duncan for his gift to her, both of which she readily did.

Finally dressed at last, the three girls called me to pick them up and then directed me to the restaurant where their new friends were waiting for them. I left them there and said, "For them to call if they needed a ride home," and reminded them that we had plans for the evening and not to forget!" 

They arrived home several hours later, close to sunset when I was just starting to get concerned. Penny had dropped them off in her big Lexus SUV that required that all six girls get 'very friendly' in order to all fit inside. 

After a very fast snack (they were pretty much all stuffed from nibbles at the Spa), their first shopping stop was a fine wig specialist that Penny used for her wigs (one for every mood) and Myra had found several superb ones that seeming absolutely natural and well suited her face. She bought one for 'work', one for friends and family, a few others for 'play' (including a long one raven black one that went nearly to her waist (to wear with her LBD) and a bright green page girl style that quite matched her 'Set' dress. Allison had thought this was well suited for her Big Lipped Cunt, who was most definitely a most slutty but exquisite slave girl.

Enamoured by my girls "Set" outfits, the six women next returned to that store so that the 'newcomers' could buy matching ones of their own. Soon Penny had a purple one, Linda chose the yellow and Rose naturally chose the rose-pink one. Now the full assembled 'Set' was a group of six extraordinary pretty women, each in a constracting color coordinated and wondrously sexy outfit that exposed most of their legs and much of their cleavage. To say that they were a menace to pedestrians and moving traffic would be an understatement! 

Running out of shopping time, the ladies coordinated their working, shopping and 'playtime' schedules, exchanged addresses and phone numbers and hoped that they would see each other at the party tonight. Penny and Linda had been longtime members of the 'Club' and had attended it frequently. Rose was a newcomer to their group, and had only been in town for a few weeks but had already gone there twice before. Supposedly their Masters had other plans for tonight, but they would 'see if they could change their minds'. I had no doubt that those three women, just like my own three, could make any man change their minds in a heartbeat about nearly anything. 

Finally home, my girls all dressed for the club, naturally in their scandalously short LBD outfits with their "fuck me" pumps, no undergarments other than black hose and their "Slut" garter belts. They told me of the Spa and their new friends, and hoped that I could meet them (and their men) later tonight. It was shaping up to be a remarkable evening!



Eventualities: Allison Ch. 10



'The Club' itself was elaborately furnished for both antique style and comfort; clearly it was the major local playground for the very kinky and very rich. We had been advised that some but not all members belonged to the "10,000", and since we didn't know the passwords we shouldn't try to force any acquaintances. Most of the members cheerfully greeted us, everyone male and female admired our ladies, who wasted little time in downing a few quick glasses of excellent champagne (there was a nice non-alcoholic one for Allison) before then ran off to the dance floor to boogie their delightfully nearly exposed tits and asses off.

The members, of which there were about a hundred present that night comprised all kinds, men and women dominants 'Masters and Mistresses' bearing leashed slave boys and girls wearing exotic, fetish or often little dress or no dress at all. There was a variety of men and women in suits, leather, or fetish gear, but most of the women wore either erotic dancewear or sexy lingerie. Many folks were nude and most of the women whose backs were exposed and visible appeared to have the lower back tattoo that Allison had told me that Rose, Penny and Linda had sported. 

This intrigued me a little and I joined a well-dressed, well spoken, middle aged, bearded man in one of the nice leather club chairs near the fire. He was enjoying a brandy while his mostly nude and pleasantly plump wife knelt by his chair. Come to find out, the 'Club' had a common marking for its female members. Some of the men chose to have a smaller but similar marking in the same location, but most wore a gold membership ring instead. Looking around now I saw several of these smaller male marks. The crest in the center was the crest of this particular club. I soon learned that there were other affiliated clubs in other major cities (including San Francisco, which had the largest membership) each with the same general design but a different central crest. Possession of this 'mark' or the ring would entitle any member of any of the affiliated clubs to enter any of the sister ones in other cities. Very interesting.

The Club's membership was extremely select and limited, new members were not often admitted, and newcomers like us required significant proofs of financial and emotional stability. While yes, sex between consenting parties often occurred here, this was not a "Sex Club" per se. Members were expected to provide mental stimulation as well and the "Art of Good Conversation" was a necessary trait for newcomers to become well liked and accepted. These were some of the most powerful people in the city, politically and economically and here is where they came to relax and often do business together.

I settled in with a very adequate glass of red wine (brought to me by a topless waitress wearing only a small apron) and my new friend and I exchanged stories for at least the next hour until my girls returned to my side, and plopped exhausted into comfy chairs next to each other. Myra knelt on the floor next to Allison resting her head against Allison's thigh.

Come to find out, Myra and my new friend Walter (who had been one of the two 'safe' names given to me by Mrs. Henderson), had a great deal in common, both were mental health professionals, Walter being one of the head child psychologists for a large local school system. They became instant bosom buddies and talked shop for a great deal of the night. They were lost in conversation when Walter's wife, Nellie, mentioned to me that she had heard our names mentioned to her recently by the Henderson's. 

I was about to follow this nugget of info to see wherever it would lead me, when there was a loud female shout from near the entrance and three women, which could only be Penny, Rose and Linda from the descriptions that I had been given entered the room. Three men followed them from behind and must have been their husbands and fiancées (and Masters). 

The six girls all squealed together and they ran to hug and kiss each other until Rose bellowed out, "Allison you total shameless slut! Where did you get that dress and how on earth is it staying attached onto you? Tell me where I can get one or I'm going to sit on your cute face until your tongue turns blue!" 

Allison 'fessed up as to where the LBD's came from but they found out the next day that they were no longer available. The women then selected some bolts of nearly sheer expensive Italian silk and had the resident Club seamstress duplicate the exact pattern until each girl had a new and identical LBD. These soon became the default popular 'slut de jour' costume of the Club. I think that seamstress stayed busy for a good long but profitable time, taking new orders from other women jealous of the attention those miniscule dresses certainly got. 

Refreshed all six girls ran back off to the dance floor, ground their tight asses and bouncing tits into each other until their close fondling and kisses became so intense that other laughing women suggested they relocate to one of the private rooms, which they soon did. They were still locked in a passionate 6-way daisy chain when we came to collect our girls at 3 a.m. for the trip home. 

They cried piteously but we men were forceful and soon each of us had our crying, nude and kicking woman picked up and bodily carried out to our waiting cars. We guys had gotten on rather well, as each of us was sort of used to our wildly unpredictable women. Apparently we had much hardship to commiserate over, and a great many glasses of good wine were drunk as each of us related some of their wilder adventures.

Chris, Rose's fiancée, and I seemed to hit it off instantly and we soon became long time friends and even business partners. He shared my cavalier attitude towards money and although he now had a good deal of money of his own, it didn't own him - he was still the same man he'd been when he was younger and much poorer. 

It was a surprise for me to learn that he was Penny's first husband! Penny had begun a new job to work for a millionaire called Robert Simmons (replacing Linda as his executive assistant) and there had been a 'rather large series of slight misunderstandings' in which Chris had believed that Bob had sent thugs after him upon Chris's discovery that his wife was now Bob's very submissive sex slave. 

"It all worked out alright in the end." He cheerfully replied. "I met a wonderful woman (Rose) who will soon be my wife next Saturday! Once the last bit of all this messy divorce stuff is finalized early next week." 

Linda, it seemed had also been Bob's former mistress as well as secretary before Penny came along. It seems that Robert had been a busy beaver! Everyone was very friendly now, for the women's sake if nothing else. Chris at least had no lingering grudges and I gathered their three girls were just as tightly wound together and now inseparable as my three were.

I liked Bob just ok, but he appeared to be a guy with an awful lot on his mind and who looked every morning into the mirror to shave but didn't quite like the person he saw staring back him. He started life worth already a little over a million dollars and he had earned his first ten million by the time he turned twenty, and had made his one hundredth million just after turning thirty. Undoubtedly he was still aiming for the billionaire mark now that he had just passed forty. 

In my opinion, his soul seemed a bit damaged as if he had spent years of his life working towards some goal that he now perceived as being of worthless. It occurred to me that Bob could use a few Sundays at the 'Church' in Lovett. Later he did begin to attend somewhat regularly, but that's another story someone else should tell. 

In another fascinating coincidence, Tiny found out that Bob knew Lovett very well indeed. Bob was the owner of that recently established small botanical research center there! Just 'exactly' what he was cultivating there I'm not sure -- Bob had more than his share of secrets, but I'm sure it had something to do with that elusive billion dollars... and the organic ingredients that made Batch 31. That started a long discussion between the two of them that lasted most of our evening together. Tiny and Bob 'clicked' pretty tightly. Over time, I think they became nearly as close as Tiny and I were, and Chris and I became, but then Tiny has always been much less judgmental and is much faster to offer forgiveness than I am (but I'm still improving). 

Like Myra, he offers a guy invariably direct and useful advice and I think Tiny eventually became Bob's 'confessor' and confided in him all of his many dark secrets. What exactly they are, I have no idea -- and would probably be happier not knowing.

We only rarely ever saw Tom, Linda's husband. He was a fairly quiet guy who was extremely shy around strangers, but he had a wicked dry sense of humor once he got to know you and became comfortable around you. I liked him very much the few times I got to meet him and I think we could have become great lifelong friends. He was very close to Chris as well, but like the rest of us was a bit 'distant' from Robert. 

Tom and Linda loved each other tremendously and exclusively, and I have not the heart to more than briefly mention that he relatively soon lost Linda as the end result of a great tragedy that allegedly somehow involved one of Robert's schemes and the active participation of both Penny and Linda. Chris and Rose were slightly involved in the matter but veto'd participation it at the very end and became somewhat estranged from Bob and Penny there afterwards. I never got an entirely straightforward account of the how's or why's. I do know Chris and Rose knew all of the details and think that Tiny now knows the whole story too, but none of them will utter a word of it. Bob and Penny are certainly not talking, even to defend or mitigate their guilt in the situation. 

Her disappearance and presumed death was very much a tragedy for many people. From the vague whispered comments I've heard from others, I think that Linda took her own life, but I'm not sure. Tom and Linda had been soul mates and her absence utterly crippled him. His boat was soon afterward found floating abandoned in the Gulf and most of his close friends feel that unable to live without her, he had chosen to join her in death. Those are the only facts of that long sad story that I think I know the truth of. I have to wonder what terrible experience or acts drove her to her tragic end, to end her life apart from Tom's side. Maybe someday Rose or Chris will tell their side of the story.

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

The next two weeks were an absolute frenzy; the six women were nearly always together day and night planning their respective weddings. Penny and Bob, together with Chris and Rose were having a joint 'fetish wedding' at the club, and Allison and Tammy had to be tightly reined in from wanting to do the same. All of the women had became very close for those two weeks so that they were constantly together wedding planning by day and often lovemaking together all night. 

We tried a big group orgy thing one night for the novelty, but eleven bodies would not remotely fit comfortably even on Bob's king sized bed. A lot of position and room shuffling ended up taking a bit of the fun from the event. We had an occasional repeat experience, but the tragic deaths of Tom and Linda our lives began to pull quite apart. 

The women all remained fast friends for life and even after we had all begun to scatter they remained tight becoming nearly (but not quite) 'full Slut Sister's', which seemed to involve some complex African tribal or religious thing that none of the women would ever speak about, other than to each other in deepest private confidence. The one time I asked Chris about it he turned pale and became extremely sad afterwards, saying only, "Trust me, you don't want to ever know!" He never would speak of it again to me. 

The girls all found out that our new extra large king sized (custom built) bed in Lovett would comfortably hold the five of them most comfortably and this is invariably where we could find our lady visitors not long after their arrival.

***********

I won't say much about Bob and Chris's double wedding. It was a bit too weird for my tastes, as it involved special piercings, and even a red-hot iron brand to each of the asses of the new brides which ended with a double sodomy of their blistered hot butts. Undoubtedly Penny had talked Rose into doing the biggest and wildest Slave to Master submission marriage anyone had ever heard of. Allison started to get very excited but I drew the line definitely at that... for now until she manages to talk me into it. Women and their need to 'prove' or demonstrate their love!. 

I did consent to an alternate suggestion that would 'modify' the existing "M" brand that she had now, to turn it into as much as possible into something else. The "Club" had an expert in branding and he made a mould of her existing brand and started to work out ideas for its alteration. He proposed several suggestions and showed some simulated 'after' examples on leather and Allison liked the one of a cat best, the M now becoming part of the claws. We commissioned him to make the branding iron but it wasn't quite ready by the time of our wedding. We had it done at a semi-private ceremony at the Club about a month later with just a few friends in attendance. By then we were full members of the Club and had met privately with several other members of the "10,000," and of which some of them also knew the source of Allison's original brand. 

Allison was firmly secured onto a rack where she could not move her ass an inch. The brander had offered to let me actually apply the iron to her flesh, but this was going to be a 'tricky' brand that had to be absolutely perfect, so with a short speech explaining to all the significance of Allison having removed the last physical marking that bound her to her old unhappy life and into her new one, I gave only a light very token touch to the iron as the brand was applied. Allison screamed that her ass was on fire (well it was literally)! She immediately planted her butt in a big basin of ice afterward. The finished 'Cat' was as good as we had hoped and healed nicely. No one ever saw that old "M" on her ever again. Even knowing where it once was, I had a hard time distinguishing it. 

Allison's new pet name soon became 'Cat' or 'Allie Cat' and we all loving teased her about her love of cream, either my cum or Myra's or Tammy's lovely cunt juices.

**********

I really don't have much to say either about my own double wedding with Allison and me, and Tammy and Tiny, except it was long and involved with very complicated vows where Allison pledged her eternal love to me and I to her. Myra, our ring bearer for both couples was utterly nude except for a white silk neckband and a small silver tray that was mounted hanging from her nipple rings that bore the two sets of wedding bands. Then we both took Myra's hands and each of us pledged together to cherish her forever in our hearts and Myra then made a more personal and final oath of submission to Allison.

The wedding gowns were a sight to see, essentially they were consisted of white veils, white corsets that exposed the full breasts and shaved and pierced cunts of both women, along with a short filmy white train that just about covered, but didn't at all conceal most of their asses and a little leg. 

We did like the part that Penny and Rose had used at the end of their wedding, where instead of 'you may kiss the bride' it now became 'you may now fuck your brides.' Allison and Tammy shameless stole this part and Tiny and I were happy to oblige them, to the cheers of the fully packed Church. We didn't actually do the deed right there and then in church, but it was close before we got to our private room.

We did honeymoon as separate couples. Tammy and Tiny returned to the Caribbean island where our money mostly still resided, and they were still complaining about the sand stuck in their asses and up her vagina weeks later. 

Allison and I had threatened to leave Myra locked away at the Kennel, a holding area inside the Spa where slave girls could be tended for several days, but we took pity on her at the last moment, and we brought her along with us. The three of us retraced every step we could of our old long-ago vacation driving through the Southwest. We did add a stop in Denver so she could visit a few friends, such as a few fellow teachers she had worked with, and her old AA sponsor that she had only spoken with on the phone but not seen since her abduction and later recovery. Everyone was happy to see her well and happily married to the man she had loved for so many years. 

All of her friends embarrassed me by repeating stories she had told them of her love for me and how she hoped to redeem herself someday in my eyes. Allison even managed to recover a few old time possessions of hers that she thought had been abandoned and probably thrown out from her apartment after her abduction. Not so! Her old landlady had boxed nearly everything for her and put them into storage in her basement. Some clothing had gotten damp and had to be discarded but many items that I had remembered from our earlier time together had been saved for her. We couldn't thank her old landlady enough and she refused every offer of payment that we made her. 

We did find out that her grand-daughter had been quite ill with childhood leukemia and her daughter and her husband were very hard put to pay even a portion of the soaring medical bills. We got the child's name and her hospital and promised we would see what we could do. The family was soon delighted to find that an obscure charity (ours) had selected them to cover all of their medical expenses, with an additional grant made directly to the family to help cover all of their living expenses for the duration of the treatment. Naturally, our names were never disclosed, but a month or so later when Allison called her old landlady to get an update on the treatment, she was profusely thanked as her landlady had easily guessed the true source of the money.

*********

Now that our weddings over and our Foundation now running smoothly, we began for the first time in over a year to get back into a 'normal' life routine. I was enjoying my new Medical Director job, despite the fact the county only had one ill-equipped EMS truck and two old fire trucks. The County soon received a large grant specifically earmarked for new equipment, and a total renovation of the Fire Station that equipped it with every modern update. 

I had one existing EMT and a pair of young ECA's that could handle most minor emergencies. I started an aggressive recruitment and training program, and by the end of the year we had three qualified EMT's and two solid young techs that were well on the road to getting their advanced EMT-P. One would eventually finish every available certification like I had, and become a full PP (Paramedic Practitioner) qualified even to do minor medical surgery. 

Life for me was never taxing and always interesting. We had chosen and were starting to fix up a large old Victorian house near the old town centre. We (mostly I) spent a lot of time and elbow grease turning it into a comfortable home for Allison, Myra and myself. Tammy and Tiny moved to another house on our same street and block that was a bit smaller but suited them well. 

Our adventures seem over for awhile. We just try and enjoy ourselves and each other the best we can despite our busy work lives. I speak with Mrs. Henderson often and she's keeping us well informed on the Syndicate's activities, which fortunately for now doesn't include visiting us. We've come to trust her implicitly, and the day she phones for our help, she'll get it.




Eventualities: Allison Ch. 10



Allison has started work on her LPN and is on the road to later getting her full RN with a specialty in Psychiatric nursing. She has been assisting Myra in turning a poorly funded county governmental agency that had almost no resources into a textbook example of how a local mental health and crisis counseling service could and should be run. Their job hours weren't as limited or as regular as I would have preferred, especially since both now seem to be a few months pregnant. 

We were indeed not too late for either of their biological clocks and things seem to have worked out alright so far and maybe we'll have time for another one or two more children. Myra is seeing the local ObGyn every week and panics at the slightest blood spotting, but she is doing well and she carries our child with pride. Allison I think slightly regrets losing her trim figure and tried to hide the pregnancy from most folks for awhile before grudgingly starting to wear maternity outfits. Myra couldn't put them on fast enough!

My own work hours have been slightly erratic also, as I asked to be notified of any critical 911 medical emergency as they were reported, and I often rode our EMS truck myself with my junior EMT's until my confidence in their abilities to handle a real crisis grew to the extent where I could really trust them alone.

The frenzied pace of our married sex lives has slowed perhaps a step or two (excepting when Penny and/or Rose comes to pay us a visit, which seems to be more often and lasting for longer stays) but we still take the time to visit our friends in Houston, and spend an evening at the Club about once a month. I can usually count on my delightful girls to do something outrageous and provocative, to everyone's delight. Our telephone long distance bills are still frightening and rarely does a day pass that we don't give an old friend a call, or they have managed to call us. Penny and Robert are mostly hermits in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico these days, but we see them a few times a year.

There are even rumors that Rose and Chris have decided once and for all to move themselves to Lovett to be near us and open a small family style restaurant. He misses the days when he was a professional chef -- and this town definitely needs one, it's growing every day. I swear, this odd little town just calls to people and some of the newcomers are even odder than we are!

My story I think is done for now. I think I've said all I can or need to say about how all our lives have been changed and much for the better. I can see Myra's jeep starting to pull into our driveway now with her and Allison, so it's now time for me to finish off this account. 

I think I'm in just the mood to go run to a hiding place in the closet where I can watch Allison and Myra undress for the day. Thinking that I'm not at home, they'll probably smile at each other and Allison will remove Myra's wig. Maybe they'll dress into some of their play clothes, but more than likely they will remain nude on the bed and pleasure each over gently and lovingly, each caressing the swelling breasts and belly of the other before starting to enjoy each others wet cunts. 

After they've had at least one good orgasm each, I'll sneak out and surprise them, joining my ladies together in bed. Maybe we'll have wonderful sex with each other all evening long, or perhaps it will just be more holding, caressing and cuddling. Either is just fine with me, each of us is together with the ones we love the most.