****** Astrology by Harold ******
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Astrology


Chapter 1--Huh?

"Tom, I don't think we should see each other any more."

"Huh?" This phone call was completely out of the blue. Wendy and I had been
seeing each other for several months. We'd had a few arguments, but nothing
outside the bounds of normal. There was nothing on my radar to indicate an
immanent breakup.

"Wendy, what's going on? Are you seeing someone else?"

"No. No, I'm not seeing anyone else. It's just that Maryann did our charts and
we're not compatible. Our birth signs, rising signs, and moon signs all
conflict. Maryann says it couldn't be a worse match."

"How did Maryann get to be part of this relationship? And how come we never
noticed this on our own?"

"I'm as surprised as you are, Tom. But Maryann says it's a really big problem."

"Wendy, the really big problem is that you believe all this crap. If you keep
this up you'll be a nitwit like Nancy Reagan, having to consult someone to see
if it's a good time to blow your nose. As Dogbert pointed out recently, if you
believe this shit, then you're not bright enough to make your own decisions
anyway, so the randomness it induces is probably an improvement over what you'd
come up with on your own. It has, however, pointed out one major
incompatibility: I need a smarter girlfriend."

"Dave, you don't understand..."

"Now you're confused about which one of us doesn't understand. Call me if you
ever figure it out."

I hung up. I was so pissed! I had really liked Wendy, but unfortunately my
analysis was correct. I didn't need a girlfriend whose life was going to be
controlled by her astrologer, which is where you end up once you start down
that path. So Wendy was history.

On the other hand, I thought I might like to become a little better acquainted
with Maryann. If this bitch was going to fuck around with my life in such a
cavalier fashion, perhaps I could return the favor.

Maryann was a witch. She belonged to a coven, cast spells, read tarot cards,
practiced astrology, and generally believed anything that came along provided
there was no very good reason to believe it. Maryann was about 5' 4" and
slender with long blond hair and small breasts. She had rather a long nose and
green eyes with a bit of a squint. In another 20 or 30 years, she would really
look the part of a witch. But right now she was rather pretty.

Chapter 2--Acquisition

I lived in a turn-of-the-century stone house in an older part of town. The
basement was broken up into a number of rooms, all with stone walls. I had
decided that Maryann was going to come and visit for a while and these rooms
would be the perfect place for her to spend her time. I began preparing them
for her arrival.

I was planning a regimen of torture and humiliation for Maryann, much of which
she would inflict upon herself, but first I had to get her here. I wanted to
abduct her in such a way that she would have no idea what had happened to her
or where she was. I would take advantage of her weakness.

I bought a cell phone under a phony name and prepaid a couple of months. This
done, I placed an ad in one of the community papers where I knew Maryann would
see it. I advertised some medieval astrology books and grimoires for sale,
using my new cell phone number in the ad. I got a surprising number of calls on
the ad, all but one from women. It occurred to me that this would be a great
way to meet bimbos. On this occasion, however, I told them the stuff was
already sold. Three days after the ad came out I got the call I was waiting
for. I told Maryann I had not sold the items yet although I had several serious
inquiries. I would sell to her for $250. This was high enough to stretch her
meager budget but still be within her reach. The strain on her budget would
enhance her idea of their value. She didn't know me very well and I had bought
the cheapest cell phone I could find, counting on the lousy audio quality to
help disguise my voice.

I told her to come over tomorrow evening after dark and bring cash. I gave her
directions to an abandoned farm house just outside of town. That night I
crawled under her car and installed some surprises.

Maryann arrived the next evening just after dark. The moon was 1 day past full
and huge on the eastern horizon. I had fixed up the old farm house to look
lived in. I had also visited a theatrical supply and obtained a disguise which
made me look much older. The room was lit with candles and she failed to
recognize me.

She oohed and ahhed over the phony materials I had put together. The books were
in Latin and the grimoires in archaic English. (That was another reason for the
candlelight. I didn't want her to get a very good look at anything.) I told her
they had been in the family for centuries and brought to this country by my
great, great grandmother in the 1860's. I could hardly bear to part with them,
but as she could see by my surroundings I desperately needed the money. Even
so, I wanted to make sure they went to someone who would appreciate their value
and would cherish them as I had.

Maryann thanked me profusely, paid over the $250 cash and headed for the door.
I couldn't believe it. She hadn't questioned anything. She hadn't inquired
about the authenticity of the books, tried to examine them under better light,
asked who I was or what I was doing out here in this run down farm house with a
cell phone, or anything. She didn't even quibble about the price (I should have
asked for more).

"One more thing before you leave," I told her. "According to family tradition,
these items carry a curse, but its exact nature has been forgotten long ago. I
have treated them with a mild cleansing spell, but I am uncertain as to its
efficacy, so be careful."

She thanked me for the warning and climbed into her car. As she started it up,
I dashed out the back door and jumped on my dirt bike. I raced across the
fields to a tree lined stretch of road about a half mile away as the crow
flies, but nearly three times that distance for her on the winding road. As she
passed, I pressed the button on the transmitter that set off the M-80 and smoke
bomb I had attached to her engine. Maryann screeched to a halt at the
explosion. Smoke poured out from under her hood. I crept through the trees
until I was next to her car.

The 2nd M-80 was wired to the hood. As she opened it, it went off almost in her
face. The bang and the flash left her temporarily deaf and blind. I walked up
behind her and knocked her out with a stun gun. I put her in the passenger
seat, then gave her an injection to keep her out for a while. I jammed my dirt
bike as far into the trunk as I could get it, then tied the lid down over it. I
drove to my house and locked her in one of the rooms in the basement, then
drove to her house. I found a secluded spot about a block from her house and
left the dirt bike there. Then I put the car in her driveway, returned to the
bike, and rode home. I was reasonably certain her disappearance would remain a
mystery.

Chapter 3--The Curse

Maryann awoke in a room that was about 15 feet square. The walls were rough
limestone, the floor concrete, and the ceiling plaster. There was a heavy
wooden door in one wall. On a low pedestal in one corner a large candle
provided the only light in the room. In the center of the floor a rusted steel
eye-bolt was set. A hinged shackle was attached to the bolt by a foot of chain.
Except for a bucket, the room was otherwise featureless. There were no windows.
Maryann, though still drowsy, got to her feet and wandered about the room. She
tried the door, finding it locked. She pounded on the door and yelled but was
ignored.

I was watching Maryann's awakening on the TV upstairs. If there had not been a
microphone in the room, I would have been unaware of her pounding and
screaming. There was no need to soundproof the basement. No sound made it
through those thick limestone walls. You could set off a bomb down there and it
would be unheard outside.

Finally, Maryann discovered the envelope. It lay in a dark corner opposite the
candle. The parchment envelope was old and musty, closed with sealing wax. She
broke the seal and removed a faded and stained piece of parchment.

Witch,

You have taken possession of secrets which are forbidden to you. You are placed
under curse. You have been brought to this place to undergo the prescribed
chastisements and mortifications. After you have been cleansed, you will be
returned to your homeland. Your first punishment is contained herein. These
instructions must be followed precisely.

Remove your skirt, blouse, shoes, bra, and all jewelry. Fold them neatly and
leave them next to the door. Lock the shackle snugly on your left ankle. Wait.

If you fail to follow these instructions, nothing will happen.

Maryann read the note a second time, tried the door again, wandered around the
room, then sat down and stared at the candle.

I went to bed. If Maryann did anything interesting, it would show up on tape. I
didn't expect much for several hours, though. It would take a while for the
situation to sink in.

In the morning, I got up and checked the video monitor. Maryann was curled up
asleep on the floor. I went off to work. When I got home, I checked on her
again. She was wandering back and forth across the room. She had used the
bucket, but had not yet accepted her punishment. She still didn't get it. I ate
supper and sat down to watch TV. I watched a movie on cable with 'Maryann TV'
inset on the upper left by the picture-in-picture function.

About 9:00, she picked up the note and read over it again. She was beginning to
get it. She had been in the basement now for nearly 21 hours without food,
water, or human contact. Maryann was beginning to realize that until she
submitted to the curse, nothing would happen. She would die of thirst in this
cold stone room. She read the note carefully again, then began removing her
clothing in the order listed in the note. Then she removed her rings and
earrings and placed them on the pile of clothing. Maryann stood there wearing
stockings and panties, then she slowly approached the chain. She fitted the
shackle around her left ankle and closed it. The lock clicked and Maryann was a
captive of the chain. She sat down and waited. After an hour, nothing had
happened. Maryann tugged at the chain and examined the lock. Then she began
yelling. She wanted something to drink. I went to bed.

After a while, Maryann also went to sleep. When next she awoke there was
another envelope between her and the candle. She had to lie on the floor and
stretch to reach it. The parchment sheet in the envelope had only one word on
it:

Recycle

She cast the sheet away in horror. She had now been in the room for 30 hours.
It was another 15 hours before she was finally thirsty enough. Maryann drank
from the bucket. She retched, then drank again. She was beginning to learn,
being conditioned. She must do what the notes said. Nothing would happen unless
she did.

When Maryann next awoke, there was another envelope. There was a key in with
the note.

The note read:

Unlock the shackle on your left ankle. Remove your panties and leave them here.
Go out the door, straight across the hall and through the door opposite this
one. Close the door behind you. Sit at the table. You will see a collar hanging
from the ceiling on a chain. Fasten the collar around your neck with the buckle
in front. On the table is a small padlock. Pass it through the buckle on the
collar and lock it. On the table you will also find a pair of manacles. Lock
one on each wrist. Once you are collared and chained, you may eat.

Maryann did as she was instructed. She glanced up and down the hall as she
crossed to the other door, but there was nothing to see except the stone
hallway lined with doors. Opening the door, she entered a room nearly identical
to the one she had left, but smaller. This room was about 9 feet on a side. The
door clicked as she closed it behind her. She tried twisting the knob after it
closed. She was locked in.

In the center of the room was a table laden with food and drink. She sat at the
chair as instructed and buckled the collar about her throat. After affixing the
padlock, she paused. On the table was a medieval looking pair of manacles,
connected by a foot of crude but very heavy chain. Maryann sighed and locked
one on each wrist. Then she examined the food.

Although she was very hungry, she eyed the food suspiciously, especially the
pitcher of water. I knew what she was thinking. Would she have to drink this
same water a second time? She shrugged in the realization that she had nothing
to say about it.

The food consisted of English muffins, yogurt, a pot of tea, several kinds of
fresh fruit, a bowl of corn flakes with milk, and a large pitcher of water.
Maryann was very hungry and didn't know when she'd eat again. She ate
everything. The food made her drowsy and she fell asleep in the chair.

I entered the room and removed the table and food. The tea had contained a mild
soporific to make certain that she didn't awaken while I removed the chair in
which she sat. I knelt her on the floor, arranging her collar so that it
supported her without cutting off her air supply. The chain which hung from the
ceiling was too short for her to lie down. I tucked an envelope into a manacle,
since she couldn't reach the floor with her hands.

Maryann awoke. The table and chair were gone. She tried to sit, but the chain
on her collar was too short. She could only stand or kneel. She stood. The
chain was just barely long enough for her to lean against the wall. She opened
the envelope and read the note:

Stand on the white squares. Only on the white squares are you safe. If you soil
them, you will have no refuge.

Maryann looked around. There were 2 white squares painted on the floor in the
center of the room. They were about 4 inches square and about a foot apart. She
looked puzzled, but went over and stood with one foot on each square.

I had acquired a unit which was used to electrify cattle fencing. It put out a
pretty good jolt every few seconds. After making a few adjustments, it put out
an even bigger jolt every second. One electrode of this unit was grounded to
the floor. The other electrode was connected to Maryann through her collar and
chain.

The squares were 4 inches across, but Maryann's feet were 8 or 9 inches long. I
switched on the power and she leapt into the air, screaming. She came back down
just in time for the next jolt. After dancing around a bit and suffering a
number of shocks, she finally got her feet back on the white squares. She now
understood her punishment. Her feet were too big to fit completely on the
squares. To avoid the shocks, she would have to stand on her toes.
Additionally, her manacles were made of bronze and weighed about 15 lbs.,
making the task even more difficult.

After a half hour, Maryann was having a difficult time staying on her toes. She
would begin to sag and then straighten up again. Finally, she sagged a bit too
far. She screamed again and did another electric dance. With a bit of struggle
she got her feet back on the squares. The exercise seemed to reinvigorate her
and she managed to stay on her toes for another half hour or so. Then the cycle
repeated.

After about 3 hours of getting shocked every 30 minutes or so, she really had
to pee. She started swinging back and forth on her chain, keeping her feet on
the squares. I knew what she was doing. She was trying to find a place to pee
that wouldn't render her white squares conductive. Then leaning as far forward
as she could, she let go with a small experimental stream to see where it would
go. Maryann screamed so loud I feared she would damage the microphone. What she
was doing was the same as pissing on a spark plug and the jolt hit her in her
most sensitive parts. This made her completely lose control of her bladder and
the damage was done. She had soiled her white squares. She danced around,
screaming, until she was finally shocked into unconsciousness.

When she regained consciousness, she was back in the first room. She was free
of the manacles but still wore the collar, although it was no longer attached
to the ceiling chain. A straight-backed wooden chair was in the middle of the
room. She found another parchment envelope leaning against the candle in the
corner. Breaking the seal, she read the message:

On the floor is a pair of manacles. Lock one on your right wrist only, leaving
the other free. Sit on the chair. Be certain that the visitors you find thereon
are made welcome. Once seated, buckle the upper belt tightly about your waist
and the lower one tightly about your thighs. Then fasten the remaining manacle
on your left wrist behind the chair.

Maryann picked up the manacles. Like the previous ones, they were joined by a
foot of chain, but were much lighter in weight. She locked one on her right
wrist as instructed.

As she approached the chair, she saw that a dildo and butt plug were firmly
attached to the seat. The chair was bolted to the floor and a wide leather
strap was attached to the seat and another to the back. She backed away from
the chair, sat down against the wall and began to cry.

"Please," she whimpered. "Please don't make me. I'm sorry. I'll take the books
back. I won't do it again. Please. Haven't I suffered enough?"

Her pleas went unanswered. It took about three hours but finally she approached
the chair again, rereading the message to recall exactly what she was to do.
Slowly she sat down, allowing the intruders to work their way into her. They
were large but not overly so and were lubricated, and the task turned out to be
less difficult and painful than she had feared it would be. Once seated, she
grasped the ends of the upper belt and buckled it snugly around he waist as
instructed. Then she buckled her thighs to the seat with the lower belt.
Reaching behind the seat she managed to snap the remaining manacle on her left
wrist. She was now strapped tightly into the chair with her hands chained
behind her.

Maryann began to squirm. The dildo and butt plug which penetrated her had been
lubricated with a compound containing poison ivy extract and stinging nettle,
activated by body heat. The more she squirmed, the worse it got. Tears streamed
down her face. Her wrists jerked against the chain. She strained and squirmed,
but there was no relief.

"Is anyone there? Can anybody hear me? Please let me go. Please. I can't stand
it. This is worse than the electricity. Anybody? Please."

Once again her pleas went unanswered. "Was I killed? Am I in hell? Is this what
it's like?" Still no answer. There was only Maryann and the chair and her
torment.

After several hours of struggling and crying, she fell asleep or passed out, I
wasn't sure which. I entered the room and gave her an injection to keep her out
for a couple of hours while I set up her next entertainment. I unfastened her
from the chair and laid her on the floor. Then I removed the chair from the
room and replaced it with a wooden box. The box was a cube about 1 foot on each
side. I removed Maryann's stockings and manacles. Except for the collar, she
was now completely naked. I bolted the manacles to the ceiling using a longer
chain. Then I set the Hibachi in a corner and lit the charcoal, placing the
branding iron in the center of the coals. I placed the next envelope by Maryann
and went upstairs to get into my costume.

Chapter 4--Ancestor Worship

Once again Maryann slowly returned from slumber to hell. As she sat up, she saw
the envelope. She picked it up, then put it down again. She was afraid to open
it, but finally she did. She unfolded the parchment and read it:

This is the last envelope. Your last punishment will be administered by the
envoy. You will then be free of the curse, although it will leave you marked
for life. But now it is time you were made ready. Stand on the box and lock
your wrists in the manacles which hang overhead.

Maryann did as she was told, somewhat heartened by the promise of freedom. She
stood on the box with her arms chained overhead. "What or who is the envoy?"
she wondered aloud.

"I am the envoy," I said, stepping out of the dark corner where I had been
standing.

"How did you get here? I didn't see anyone come in."

"I had no need of the door," I told her. She hadn't realized I'd been there all
along.

"You're the old man who sold me those books."

"No, I am his ancestor. He still has the advantage of life, which unfortunately
I do not." I was dressed in a combination of medieval, renaissance, and thrift
store clothing, with makeup to make me look very old. I spoke in a raspy half-
whisper. Additionally, I had removed Maryann's contact lenses during her last
period of unconsciousness, so I was somewhat of a blur to her.

"You don't seem ethereal," she said.

This surprised me. It was the first spark of skepticism I'd heard from Maryann.
I slapped her, hard.

"If I was in ethereal form, I wouldn't be able to do that," I told her. "My
purpose here is to make you suffer. That requires a certain solidity on my
part, unfortunately temporary. But before we complete your chastisement," I
told her, "you must perform the supplication." I unlocked her manacles and
pulled her down off the box. I crossed her wrists and bound them behind her
with a strip of leather, then pushed her to her knees and stood before her.

"What is it? What do you want me to do?"

"Ancestor worship," I told her. I parted my robes and my prick sprang out
toward her face. "Pay homage, witch," I said, guiding her mouth toward the end
of my dick.

I had originally planned on fucking Maryann, but I realized that would be a bad
idea after the poison ivy dildo. So I decided she would blow me. I loved blow
jobs. One of my few arguments with Wendy had been over her refusal to give me a
blow job. Maryann, on the other hand, performed a very creditable blow job. I
was pleased to learn that she hadn't been wasting all of her time on new age
silliness.

When she finished, I untied her hands, stood her back on the box, and locked
her in the manacles again.

"What are you going to do to me?"

"I'm going to whip you, but first you must step off the box on which you are
standing."

"I'm to hang by my wrists?"

"Your feet will touch the floor, but barely."

Maryann stepped gingerly off the box. Her toes just barely touched the floor. I
had measured this all rather carefully while she was asleep.

I stooped and bound Maryann's ankles tightly with a strip of leather, then
retrieved a rather whippy 3 foot piece of cane from the corner whence I had
emerged.

"This is really going to hurt, isn't it."

"It will be the most painful experience of your young life so far," I told her.

"I'm frightened."

"That is entirely appropriate. You should be."

"Do you really have to do this? Haven't I gone through enough?"

"The curse is not lifted until I am finished with you, which I am not. Now
cease distracting me. There are others who must yet be admonished this day."

I swung the cane, striking her calf, just above the ankles. Maryann screamed
for me to stop. I didn't. Starting with her ankles, I worked my way up to her
neck and back again to her ankles, leaving stripe after stripe on her smooth
skin. Maryann screamed continuously. She was doing significant damage to my
hearing in the hard room.

"Cease your wailing, wench. You could truly wake the dead and I do not want
them here." I was getting a bit carried away with my role, but Maryann was so
gullible.

"But it hurts, it hurts so bad. I can't stand it."

"Of course it hurts. That is why I am here, to hurt you."

I pulled a ball gag from within my robes and pressed it to her lips. She turned
her head aside.

"Open your mouth, Maryann. The gag will not prevent your screaming if you wish
to do so, but it will relieve my having to listen."

"You mean there's more?"

"Oh, yes. I've only done your back. I have yet to do the front. Now open your
mouth."

"Oh, god. Oh, god," Maryann whimpered, but she opened her mouth and I stuffed
the ball in and buckled the strap tightly behind her neck.

By this time the entire back of Maryann's body was bright red and crisscrossed
with darker red stripes. She looked like she'd been on a barbecue grill. I
admired my handiwork for a second, then started on her front side. I began at
her knees and worked my way up to her nipples and back down again. Maryann
screamed as before, but at a much reduced volume. I gave her a few final lashes
across the nipples and then I was finished. I removed her gag.

Maryann was sobbing. "That was horrible," she choked. "I hope you're proud of
yourself. You did a fine job of hurting me."

"I always do. It is my boon and my curse. I am allowed these brief returns so
long as I cause pain. Now be silent and rest a few minutes. You will need to
gather all your strength to endure the final punishment."

"Final? There's more? But you said the whipping would be the most painful
thing."

"The whipping is the most painful event of your young life so far, but soon
that will no longer be true."

"What do you mean? What are you going to do to me?" In a panic Maryann looked
around the room. She caught sight of the hibachi smoking in the corner. Up till
now, I'd tried to keep myself between it and her, but now it was in full view,
even to her somewhat blurry vision.

"What's that? What's it for?"

"It's for you, of course, witch. What else could it be for?"

"You're not going to... 'marked for life'... Oh my god! Oh, no. Oh, no. Please
don't. Please. Please. You can't. Oh god..."

Maryann was in stark panic. The color drained from her face. I thought she was
going to faint. I slapped her again, but not hard. Just enough to jar her
system into functioning. I didn't want her going into shock..

"Silence, witch. If you would meddle in the black arts, you must be prepared to
accept the consequences. In my day you would have been burned at the stake."

"What happens, what happens after?"

"After you are marked? My job will be finished and your punishment will be
completed. You will not see me again. I will turn my attention to others. After
a short period of detention, you will be returned to your homeland."

I went to another dark corner of the room and dragged a heavy anvil over to
her. I placed it behind her legs and bound her ankles to it. It would help keep
her from kicking while she was being branded.

"Where did that come from?"

"That which is needed comes when it is called." Amazing. Maryann hadn't
previously noticed the huge anvil, so she assumed I had conjured it. It
apparently didn't occur to her to wonder why, if I could command an anvil to
appear, I couldn't command it to appear where I needed it instead of having to
drag it across the floor. Occam's razor was not in her tool kit. Just as well,
she'd have cut herself.

I held the gag to her lips. "Submit to the gag, witch. The dead must have their
peace." Maryann opened her mouth and I gagged her tightly. I walked over to the
brazier and examined the iron. It was red hot and glowing. Unlike the slavers
in the Gor novels, I didn't think I'd be able to get the iron white hot without
a bellows, but I was confident it would do. I turned toward Maryann.

Maryann's eyes were the size of saucers and she was shaking uncontrollably. I
saw her stomach starting to heave. I quickly returned the iron to the hibachi
and went over to Maryann. It wouldn't do to have her vomit into her gag and
choke to death. She'd probably haunt my house. I stroked her cheek and calmed
her down, then I blindfolded her. I had wanted her to see herself being
branded, but she was just too freaked. It was more important to keep control of
the situation than to wring the last ounce of terror from Maryann. Even
blindfolded, she would be sufficiently terrorized.

I waited until her breathing returned to near normal, then retrieved the iron.
I was going to brand her on the left cheek of her ass. I wrapped my left arm
firmly around her waist, then pressed the iron into her cheek. Maryann went
rigid, then her entire body jerked, but I held on and kept the iron pressed
into her for a good 10 seconds. I had thought she would faint, but she didn't,
so I knocked her out with the stun gun. I unchained her and laid her face down
on the floor. The brand was nicely centered and clean. I had branded her with
the same phony symbol that I had put on the covers of the books I had sold her.

I picked her up and carried her across the hall to the smaller room. I had
built a small cage in which Maryann would spend the next 24 hours. It was
constructed from rusting rebar and used weathered lumber to make it look old.

I chained Maryann's hands behind her, then crossed and tied her ankles. I
removed her gag and blindfold, then began stuffing her into the cage. When I
finished, she was folded into the tiny cage with her chin almost on her knees.
With her wrists and ankles bound, she was completely immobile. I closed and
locked the cage door, locked the door to the room, then went upstairs.

Maryann regained consciousness about 45 minutes later. The position she was in
left her looking at the floor. She could raise her head only enough to look
through the bars and see a limited portion of the floor in front of her. She
began weeping.

"Oh, it hurts," she moaned. "It hurts, it hurts."

"Envoy," she called. "Envoy!" There was no answer. "Envoy, let me out. Please
let me out. I can't move. It hurts. Envoy! Please."

She finally ceased her pleading. For the next several hours she wept quietly,
then fell asleep.

Twenty four hours later she was asleep again. I gave her another injection to
keep her out, then began extracting her from the cage. I opened the door, then
removed the top and sides of the cage. I released her from her bonds, then
slowly and carefully stretched her cramped muscles until she was lying face
down on the floor. Her stripes had faded considerably and would probably be
gone by tomorrow. The brand was healing, but would probably be painful for a
day or two yet. It was daytime and would be another 12 hours before it was dark
enough to take her home. I took her upstairs and laid her on a bed. She stirred
a bit in slumber. I left her for a couple of hours so her cramped muscles could
sort themselves out, then returned and dressed her in the clothes she had
arrived in. I had washed them to remove any traces of her ordeal.

About 2:00 AM I loaded her into my car and drove to her house. I circled the
block a couple times to see if anyone was around or watching the house, then
pulled into her driveway. I carried her in the back door and laid her on her
bed. Then I removed her clothing and jewelry again and folded them as she had
at the beginning of her captivity. I stacked them neatly on the chair next to
the bed. I tucked Maryann's nude body into bed and pulled the covers up to her
neck, pausing for a moment to play with her tits (it wasn't very satisfying,
too much like necrophilia--it's no fun pinching a girl's nipples if she doesn't
know you're doing it). I got in my car and drove home. Maryann would probably
revive about dawn.

Chapter 5--Together Again

About a week later I got a call from Wendy.

"Tom, I called to apologize. Will you take me back?"

"Why the change?"

"I ran into Maryann the other day. She told me this ridiculous story about
being cursed and kidnapped by demons and being tortured and branded and all
sorts of nonsense. I told her she should join an alien abduction cult. She
actually started to pull her pants down to show me the brand. I told her that
not only did I not want to see her butt, I didn't want to see the rest of her
any more either. I feel like such an idiot for ever taking her seriously."

"I tried to tell you."

"I know. I'm so sorry I trashed our relationship over something that stupid.
How can I make it up to you?"

"Blow job."

Copyright 1999

Harold@blitz-it.net