Message-ID: <25793asstr$966096607@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Delivered-To: fixup-ckought69@hotmail.com@fixme
X-Original-Message-ID: <003701c00424$28c97900$8f39b4d1@leviticus>
From: "Leviticus" <leviticus1@uswest.net>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain;
	charset="iso-8859-1"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
X-Priority: 3
X-MSMail-Priority: Normal
X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V5.50.4133.2400
Subject: {ASSM} To Catch Rhianna   part 22   (BDSM)
Date: Sat, 12 Aug 2000 12:10:07 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/25793>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: assm-admin

To Catch Rhianna   Part 22



Jim Halloran, the General Manager of the Simmons County Airport, was pissed.
He had been given only two days notice to expect a 'large' number of private
aircraft at his small facility.  'Large' didn't convey the numbers quite
enough.  His airport was used to one or two flights a day, and large to him
meant maybe having a dozen planes on the ground at once.  What he got was
almost three times that number, all corporate or private jets, and all
hungry for taxi space and fuel.

Fuel he was having trucked in right now; most of these planes would be
staying here a few days, so he figured he would have time for that.  Space
wasn't a problem either, but that was a limited commodity, and just a few
more aircraft on the ground would have the F.A.A. breathing down his neck.

He wasn't pissed at all this traffic, or that he had to bring in a couple of
extra guys to help service all these jets; the fees he was charging these
rich folks more than made up for those headaches.  What he was pissed at was
the single Lear Jet that was refusing to take orders.

It had come in less than an hour ago, and had parked close to the edge of
the group of planes already here.  That was as far as it went when it came
to following the tower instructions.  Then suddenly a few minutes ago, the
engines had spooled up and the jet had taxied to just off the main runway.
Now it was ignoring the tower commands to get away from the runway, and
Halloran was thinking seriously of jumping in a jeep and heading out there
to kick some ass.

He was just about to leave, when a van came screaming out onto the field and
headed straight for the disobedient aircraft.

"Shit," Halloran said, up in the tower with his single controller, "Pat, get
on the phone and call the Sheriff, something screwy is really going on
here!"

Halloran picked up a pair of binoculars and focused them on the plane.  He
watched as the van pulled up beside it and several people climbed out.  One
of them was wrapped in a blanket and carried to the plane; the others ran
under their own power.  All except the driver, who saluted the fleeing group
and pulled away once they were all clear.  The van looked like it was
heading back to the gate.

"Jim!" said Pat, the controller, "The pilot of that plane is telling us he's
taking off!"

"Don't give him permission to leave!" screamed Halloran, convinced that
something illegal was going on.

"He ain't asking for permission, he's telling us he's going!" Pat answered
back.

The door in the side of the plane closed up, and it immediately taxied onto
the runway and lined up.

Halloran watched the control surfaces flex as the pilot did the standard
"Hail Mary", and then stood by helplessly as it started down the runway.  In
moments, it was airborne and heading east.

"Did you get its numbers?" Pat said, asking about the registration numbers
painted on the side.

"Yeah, I got 'em," Halloran answered, and he reached for a phone to file a
complaint with the F.A.A.


---***---


On board the plane, it had been a mad rush to find seats, while Rhianna was
laid gently in the aisle where she could lie down.  Strangely enough, Amy
opted to lie down too, even though there was a seat for her.  Matthew had
noticed that she hadn't sat down in the van either.

As the plane climbed, and there was nothing else to do for the moment but
sit back and hold on, Matthew reflected on his parting conversation with
Mick, the Collector.

"Thanks," he had said as they headed down the highway to the nearby airport.

"You owe me one!" Mick Alvaro replied with a big grin.

"A big one," Matthew said, a lot more seriously.

Alvaro didn't look away from the road, but he nodded slowly, catching the
emotion in Matthew's voice.

"Look, Mick," said Matthew, "after all this is over, I'm heading back to the
Compound; I'm done with the outside world for a while.  If you get tired of
spending all your money, come visit.  I'm sure your family would appreciate
it."

Alvaro nodded slowly again.  "Sure thing, Matt.  Save a place at your table
for me, huh?"

Matthew said he would, confident that Alvaro would someday come and claim
it.

Now they were in the air and headed for the nearest major city.  Rhianna's
injuries had to be taken cared of.  But she had other ideas.

As the plane leveled off, she sat up, winced, and rolled part way on her
side.  She had woken up during the transfer from the van and felt much
clearer headed.

She looked about the cabin and smiled at Matthew, who sat next to her, then
got a shock as she saw Bart sitting one seat down from him.  She looked at
each of them in surprise, and saw on their faces that both men knew the
truth about each other.

It was not something she wanted to handle at that moment.

"Are you okay, Rhianna?" Bart asked, getting out of his seat.

She nodded, used now to not talking.  It was then that Joseph came out of
the sectioned off cockpit.  He looked concerned, as did everyone else,
including Amy, who knelt at her feet.

"You've been whipped pretty badly," Matthew told her, "we're heading
for...er..."

"Vegas," Joseph told them.  "There will be an ambulance waiting at the
airport.

Rhianna shook her head; she was fine.  She gestured for Bart who was in a
better position, to crouch down beside her.

"I'm okay," she whispered in his ear, "It looks a lot worse than it is."

"You're crazy!" he told her.

Rhianna was very frustrated at not being able to talk; she shoved Bart back
and got up on her knees to reach Matthew.  Her blanket slipped off, and
everyone got another eyeful of her striped body.

"Matthew," she whispered into his ear, "This is nothing, it's like a play
party.  Make them understand!"

"How can it be nothing?  Atamo was out to kill you!"

"He was just playing, taking his time, hung me up there all night and only
started whipping me just before you came in.  He had hardly gotten started.
I'll be fine in a couple of days."

Matthew looked into her deep eyes.  "You sure?"

She nodded.

Matthew repeated what he had been told to the rest of the group.  Bart was
still not convinced, but Amy and Joseph, who had a lot of experience at this
kind of play, understood.

"Rhianna," asked Joseph, "we need to get to New York as soon as we can, do
you think you could make the trip right now?  Are you up to it?"

Rhianna nodded and Joseph went back to tell the pilot of the change in
destination.

"What happened to you both back there?" Bart asked the women, "Why can't you
talk?"

Rhianna and Amy exchanged glances, each of them searching for the answer in
the other.  Neither of them knew.

Rhianna moved close to Matthew again.  "How did you find us?" she whispered,
"Did Joseph organize our rescue, or was it my Boss?"

Matthew glanced at Bart, wondering how to answer that, when Joseph came
back.

"Joe," Matthew said, "I think we should tell them what's going on!"

Joseph found a seat and nodded.  He had been dreading this moment from the
time he first put the plan into action.



---***---



By the time the jet landed in New York, Joseph's plan and its merits or lack
of, had been discussed fully by all.  Even Amy had spoken about it, sharing
her views on how violated she was at having been a part of it.

Rhianna was pissed, but held her tongue.  Diane Brahms sounded like someone
that SHOULD be put away, and now that the damage had been done, Rhianna felt
that she might as well finish the job Joseph started, or else all that she
had suffered would have been for nothing.

Joseph had called ahead to arrange a meeting with the Organization's ruling
council, but first Rhianna wanted to go home and tend to her sore body.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Joseph said.  "By now Diane Brahms
probably knows that you've escaped.  She'll anticipate our next move and
will want to stop it.  She's killed before, and I wouldn't put it past her
to do it again."

Rhianna shook her head and gave Joseph the finger.  She had decided.

"Okay then," Joseph said angrily.  "Go, but you don't go alone!"

"I'll go with her," Bart said before Matthew could get a word out.

"No, Bart, I want you to come with me and Amy to my place.  I placed a call
to Ben Lane, and he's flying in to pick her up there.  You and Rhianna are
the only ones licensed to carry a gun, and if we're splitting up, I'd like
both groups to be armed."

"I'm not carrying," Bart replied, and he wished he had been when they came
upon Atamo whipping Rhianna.

Joseph opened a locked cabinet and pulled out two pistols.  He handed one to
Bart and one to Rhianna, who had pulled on a loose set of coveralls.

Both law officers instinctively checked the weapons to see if they were
loaded, and put them on safe.

"Matthew, you take her.  We'll drop Amy off at my home, where I have some
people waiting, and then I'll come back for you, and we can go to the
meeting."

Matthew nodded, but his eyes were on Rhianna.

In one cross-country flight, she had gone from a near invalid to an armed
and angry cop.  She looked very capable as she tucked the gun into her
clothes, although she looked odd kneeling in the aisle.

"You ladies should take your seats, we'll be landing soon," he said.

Amy and Rhianna exchanged glances and shook their heads.

"Why not?"

Rhianna got up to whisper in Matthew's ear.  "They did other things to us.
It hurts terribly to sit down, and we can't walk or stand properly."

"And you have no idea what they did?"

Rhianna shook her head.

"Shit.  We're getting both of you to a doctor as soon as we can!"

"It's been arranged," said Joseph calmly.  "I've also called Jim Vessor,
he'll meet us at the meeting and will take over security once we get there."

The plane landed and the group transferred to a waiting car.

Rhianna and Amy sat awkwardly on the soft seats, uncomfortable, yet not in
pain, and were taken into the city, where Matthew and Rhianna were dropped
off at her apartment building.

Bart gave Matthew a warning look as they parted, clearly upset that Matthew
would be alone with Rhianna, but Matthew didn't care.  They would have that
argument later, unless Rhianna settled it herself.

Matthew watched, concerned, as Rhianna tiptoed beside him, wincing as her
abused body made its way into the building and up to the apartment.

The doorman let them in, Rhianna's key long lost, and Rhianna immediately
stripped, dropping her clothes and the gun on the bathroom floor, and ran a
bath.  Lying in the warm soapy water was the best thing that had happened to
her that day.

Matthew sat with her, perched on the toilet.

They sat in silence for a long while, each busy with their own thoughts.
 From time to time, Rhianna would add more hot water to her bath or would
massage a sore spot.

Matthew offered once to wash her down, but was turned down, so he just sat
in silence and kept her company.

"Do you and Bart know everything?"  Rhianna whispered from the tub.  In the
silence of the apartment, Matthew could just about hear her from where he
sat.

"Not everything," Matthew answered.  "I know that you and I had
never...well, really committed to each other," he toyed with the leather
wrist bands he still wore, put there when he "married" Rhianna eight months
before, "but it was still a shock to find out you had been seeing another
guy."

Rhianna saw him fiddling with the bands.  She knew their significance.
"Bart and I...we just happened." she whispered.

"Do you love him?"

Rhianna didn't want to answer that question, not just yet.

"I thought I'd hear from you sooner, I thought you'd call once your sentence
was up and you could leave the mountain," she said.

"I meant to.  I was all set to go, but...I have some bad news," Matthew
replied.  "Old Gabe Miller passed away in his sleep the day before I was due
to leave.  I had to stay for the funeral, and afterward...it just didn't
seem right to leave so soon.  The community took it hard."

"I'm sorry," whispered Rhianna, "I liked him a lot."

"He liked you.  He was always asking me when you were coming back."

"What did you tell everyone?"

"That you had a job that was hard to leave quickly, that it would be a few
months before you were ready to come live on the mountain permanently.  I
said when I next left, I'd bring you back to live."

"Is that really why you left, why you came looking for me?"

Matthew looked her in the face, and fancied he saw a look of hope there.  In
the back of his mind, he figured that Bart would kill him for making his
move like this, but he had to.

"Yes, Pet.  I do want you back.  Come back with me and be my wife, for
real."

Rhianna stared at him for a moment, and Matthew couldn't see a decision in
her face.

Then the moment was broken, the doorbell rang.

"That might be Joseph," Rhianna whispered.

"I'll go look."  Matthew left the bathroom and Rhianna heard him answer the
door.  She heard a familiar voice and sighed.

It was her neighbor, Mrs. Slocume.

The old woman pushed right past Matthew, asking where Rhianna was and
talking up a storm.  Rhianna would have yelled out that Mrs. Slocume was
okay, if she could have, but instead laughed quietly to herself as Matthew
tried to get a word in edgewise.  He must have eventually just pointed, for
the next thing Rhianna knew was that Mrs. Slocume was in the bathroom with
her.  A little shocked, Rhianna tried to hide her nudity under all the
bubbles.

"My word, dear," said the old woman, "what happened to you?  Your young man
said you were ill, but it looks like you were beaten to me!  Has he been
having his way with you?  Speak up girl, I can't hear you!"

Rhianna had been trying to whisper, but she was outgunned in the verbal
department quite thoroughly, although even at full voice one was hard
pressed to match Mrs. Slocume volley for volley.  But Matthew again came to
her rescue.

"She's lost her voice," he said from the doorway.

Mrs. Slocume turned to give him the evil eye.  "Should you be in here, young
man?  The girl isn't dressed!"

"It's okay, we're married," Matthew replied with a smug grin.

Rhianna almost laughed.

Mrs. Slocume looked shocked.  "I didn't know she was married!  Why didn't
you tell me you were married, girl?  Wait a minute, is that where you've
been all month?  On your honeymoon?  You didn't say a word about your
getting married; I would have loved to have come to the wedding!  Or was it
one of those quickie weddings where you go see some fake pastor who marries
you for fifty dollars?  How long have you known this man anyway, and did he
put all those marks on your body?  I'd get rid of him right now if he did!
You've barely been married a month; you could probably get it annulled, not
that it should count anyway.  If you aren't married in a church or in front
of a respectable judge, then it isn't marriage in my opinion.  Here, child,
let me add some more hot water.  I've got some stuff at home that will help
ease your pains.  And what's wrong with your voice, are you really sick?  I
don't doubt it.  You LOOK unwell, dear.  Sit up and I'll wash your back.
Don't be shy girl, you don't have anything I haven't seen before..."

As Mrs. Slocume got down on her knees and began washing Rhianna's back,
Rhianna looked up at the face of a very amused Matthew Anderson and mouthed,
"Help me!"

The buzzer for the intercom went off, someone was downstairs with the
doorman and wanted to come up.

Matthew grinned and quietly slipped away, leaving a defenseless Rhianna
alone with the prattling Mrs. Slocume.

He came back a moment later.  "It's Joseph, he's on his way up."

Matthew went to answer the door a minute later, and let the gray haired man
in.

Joseph looked tired, and very serious.  "I left Bart with the car," he said,
"is Rhianna ready to go?"

"She's in the bath, with one of her neighbors.  I'll go tell her you want to
leave right away.  I think she'll be eager to go."

"Why is that?" Joseph asked.

"You haven't met this neighbor!" laughed Matthew.

Rhianna chose that moment to step out of the bathroom.  She was holding her
coveralls and a towel up in front of her, making no attempted to wrap either
around herself, and she was soaking wet.  She also had a frightened look on
her face.

"What...?" Matthew started to ask, then he saw what had frightened her.

Mrs. Slocume was following Rhianna out, and from the billowing folds of her
dress she had produced a small but deadly looking revolver.

"Diane Brahms," hissed Joseph, recognizing her instantly.

"My dear Joseph, when I heard you were here, I thought this too good an
opportunity to pass up," said Diane Brahms/Mrs. Slocume.  "I only came for
information, I didn't think you would actually show up!"  She pointed the
gun at Matthew.  "You must be the famous Matthew Anderson I've heard so much
about.  A resourceful man, I hear, and one not unfamiliar with the hard side
of the law.  I'd offer you a place in my organization, but I doubt you'd
take it, and I wouldn't trust you if you did!"

"What do you want, Diane?" Joseph asked her.  "You can't expect to win this
one.  If you're planning to shoot us, it'll be a waste of your time.  We're
not the only witnesses to your depraved activities."

As Joseph talked, Matthew was watching Rhianna, who still had her naked back
to the old woman.  He watched in admiration as Rhianna slowly grasped the
handgun she had left in her coveralls, gently pulling it free of the folds
of material that surrounded it.

Diane Brahms carried on talking.  "Don't worry about them, Joseph, I'll see
to it that they will be taken cared off as well.  But I can't miss out on
this opportunity.  I know you want to expose me to the Council, but that
isn't going to happen.  I'll just shoot you all now, and then go back to
being simple old Mrs. Slocume.  Who would believe THAT dim old lady capable
of murder?"

"You won't get away with this..." Joseph started to say.

"Oh shut up!" Diane said, and fired twice, hitting Joseph both times in the
chest.

Rhianna whirled around, her weapon in both hands, her clothes dropping to
the floor, and fired as Diane Brahms swung to meet her.  Rhianna's gun was
bigger and sounded a lot louder to Matthew's ears.

Diane Brahms fell back, a single shot to the torso knocking over the little
old woman, and her third shot went wild, hitting the ceiling.

Matthew dropped down next to Joseph; huge amounts of blood were being pumped
from his chest.

"Call an ambulance!" he shouted, and Rhianna did as she was ordered.

As she dialed, her hands began to shake, and she dropped the gun and fell to
her knees.  In that position, with the smell of blood and gun smoke filling
her nose, she called for help.



---***---



The graveside funeral was a big one.  Many members of the Organization
showed up, which lent the occasion the air of a state function.  There were
many recognizable faces in the crowed, more if you were a strong follower of
politics and business news.

Primrose Hill Cemetery was one of New York's most exclusive, and from the
look of the mourners, there was no doubting the deceased belonged there.

In a privileged position near the grave stood Maria Brown and her family,
which included for the occasion, Bart Maxell, Melissa Hunt, Robert Wright,
and Lisa Russel.  The women were in tears, while the men stood stone faced,
doing their best to comfort their women.

Closer to the head of the grave were Stacy and several other women, all
dressed in black and supporting each other in their time of need.

Several rows back could be seen Rhianna Summer, accompanied by James Vessor.
The two of them spoke occasionally but for the most part were silent through
the service.

And on his own in the crowd, on the opposite side of the grave, was Matthew
Anderson.

While he knew many of the people that had shown up for Joseph Booth's
funeral, Matthew kept his eyes mostly on Rhianna.  Since the shooting, they
had talked little; Rhianna was more shaken up than she cared to admit.

Vessor had come through for her as far as the shooting was concerned,
supplying all the evidence the NYPD needed to conclude that the gun fight in
Rhianna's apartment was the conclusion of an FBI investigation gone bad.  He
was taking some heat, but the important part to him was that Rhianna wasn't.
Vessor had felt very ineffective throughout the entire case, it was the
least he could do.

The Council had come through too, taking over Diane Brahms assets and
examining every aspect of her empire.  James Vessor had been brought in
there as well; utilizing his position to prompt investigations into all the
illegal activities the Council told him about.  It would be months before
things were sorted out, but camps like the one that raised Kiri would soon
be raided and closed down.  The FBI looked forward to closing the books on
several unsolved kidnappings.

Matthew knew a lot about the plans the FBI and the Council had for the near
future, but he was unconcerned at the moment.  Only one person was on his
mind right now, and as he watched her, Rhianna would periodically scan the
crowd, a police habit.  She had picked him out early, and would occasionally
look his way.  She had also picked out Bart, and Matthew would catch her
looking at him as well.

Matthew was tired; he was done with the city and with chasing Rhianna.  He
had come all this way over a month ago to catch her and take her back home
with him, only to find that she loved another man.  After the funeral, he
was going to leave, he was going to head back to Colorado.

He only wished he didn't have to go back alone.

The service ended and the crowd began to disperse.  Matthew stood where he
was, waiting to see what Rhianna would do.  Would she come to him, maybe to
say goodbye?  Or would she think it better that they not talk at all?

He watched, losing sight of her from time to time as she talked with her
boss.  He saw her hand him something and part from him.  She started
walking, and for a second he caught her eye.  She looked away.

Matthew watched as she went to Bart, and after Bart bent low so that Rhianna
could whisper in his ears, Matthew turned away and began to walk.

It was done; she had made her decision.

He was therefore surprised, as he approached the gate to the cemetery, to
feel a hand on his arm.

He turned to find Rhianna standing behind him.

She looked good to him, no longer wincing in pain every time she moved,
having had four days to heal.  She had also been to see a doctor, who found
the metal beads in her body, and extracted them.

Her voice they could do nothing about, although with blood tests they had
determined what had been done to her.  They said it might take weeks or
months for her voice to come back, but come back it would.

For now though, she was still a mute, but that didn't mean she couldn't
communicate.  Rhianna reached up and pulled Matthew's head close.

"Take me home," she whispered.

"Sure, we can get a cab to your place."

Rhianna shook her head and pulled two leather straps out of her jacket
pockets.  Matthew recognized them instantly as the complementary pair to the
straps he still wore on his wrists.  These were Rhianna's wedding bands, the
way married couples were identified in the Compound in Colorado.

She held them up for Matthew to see.  "Take me home, to OUR home."

"What about Bart, and your job?" Matthew asked.

Rhianna hesitated.  "I just gave Vessor my badge and gun; I married YOU, not
Bart."  She looked down for a moment, before looking back up at him.  "I
need you too!"

Matthew smiled, a sense of relief pouring through his body like a cold
stream.  He took Rhianna under one arm, and the couple moved slowly out into
the world together.



---***---



ONE YEAR LATER:

Matthew Anderson waited patiently near the north gate to the compound.  He
had been there most of the day, even though he wasn't expecting Rhianna
until about now.  She had been gone for a week, enduring the survival test
given to all the Compound's young people before they could be trusted to go
out on their own or leave the community for the outside world.  It was a
mark of passage, a passing from childhood to adulthood.

That Rhianna was already an adult was obvious to the community, but
newcomers from the outside were still required to pass this test, if only in
the interests of safety.  Survive alone on the mountain for a week, taking
nothing with you at all, and you could survive anything.

Matthew knew that once Rhianna was taught the skills, she would handle the
test with ease.  If there was one thing he was sure about, she was a
survivor.

As he waited, he kept an eye on the people of the community as they worked
and played in the summer sun.  Unlike in the wintertime, when the weather
forced everyone to stay inside the huge huts that made up the Compound,
summertime was spent for the most part outdoors.  If it could be done
outside, it was!  Also, unlike the wintertime, during the summer the people
here wore hardly any clothes.  Nudity wasn't a taboo here, except for
courting couples, so not only the children, but also most of the adults
spent these months nude.  It had been an adjustment for Rhianna, considering
how the hair that covered her groin had been permanently removed.  That kind
of shaving was not done here, so apart from the young children, she was the
only one exposed like that.  It made her uncomfortable, so she always wore a
loincloth in public, and Matthew was holding one for her now.

When you went on your survival week, you went with nothing, and that
included clothes, although Rhianna was allowed the wedding straps sewn back
onto her wrists.

As he watched, he saw the community's newest addition.  Working with the
horses in the paddock were Cory Lincoln and his companion Ruthy.

Rhianna had told her ex-boss of her discovery that the former FBI agent was
still alive, and the day before Joseph's funeral, a squad of FBI Agents
backed up by local state police raided Yochim's farm.  Yochim had already
gone, along with several of his associates who were now all on the FBI most
wanted lists, but Cory, who was still known as Patch, was there, as were
almost all the slaves.

Some of the slaves were kidnap victims, but most were there by their own
choice, and after being screened, they were let go.   The FBI sent Patch to
the same hospital Rhianna visited after her first encounter with Hiro Atamo,
and the doctors came to the conclusion that Cory had suffered too many brain
injuries to recover completely.  Cory Lincoln effectively didn't exist any
longer.

Rhianna got word to him though, and arranged for him to come live here at
the Compound.  She knew that here he would be welcomed, and she was right.
The community welcomed him and Ruthy, who never left his side, with open
arms.  They were especially happy when his talents as a horse trainer became
known, and now he practically ran the stables.

The happy couple married soon after their arrival so they could live
together.

"Any sign of her, Uncle Matthew?" said a voice, shaking Matthew out of his
reverie.

It was Lilly, his brother Paul's pretty teenage daughter.  Lilly was a big
fan of Rhianna, and the two had grown close.

"Nothing yet," he said, peering out at the trail again, and then he saw a
flash of movement.  "Wait a minute."

Lilly and Matthew watched, and presently saw a figure walking down the
trail.

It was a woman, her hair long, her skin tanned, her body trim and well
muscled.  She walked with a confident air, her bare feet no longer stumbling
on the rough ground, her mannerisms no longer showing her
self-consciousness.

She wore a fur loincloth tied with leather, two leather wedding straps
around her wrists, and she carried a long sharp stick.  You had to leave the
compound with nothing, but there was no rule about what you brought back.

As she drew closer, she smiled at her two favorite people, and Lilly waved
back, hero worship visible on her face.

Matthew smiled and waved as well, and when Rhianna got to them, he took her
his arms and gave her a big kiss.

"Hmmm, that felt good!" Rhianna said.  Her voice had come back, but not all
the way; there was still a huskiness, a loss of power that used to be there,
but she could talk, which was the main thing.

"I missed you, Pet," Matthew said, enjoying as always the way her naked
breasts pressed against his chest when he hugged her.

"Me too," she replied.  She broke free from him and gave Lilly a hug as
well.

Matthew noticed a few bruises, some scratches.  She would have to be taken
to Doc Miller to be checked over, but she looked in good shape.

"I can't wait until I get to go next year!" Lilly was saying.

Rhianna laughed.  "I can't wait either, you'll do fine!"

Matthew moved to take his wife in his arms again.

"Come on, Pet, let's go home and celebrate."

"Yes, Sir," said Rhianna with a shy smile, and Lilly watched as the happy
couple walked off hand in hand.




The End of the Rhianna Summer Series.


Author note:

As is usual, I have a lot of people to thank for helping me with not only
this story, but the entire Rhianna Summer series.   I got help with research
when I needed it, with ideas and character help, and most important with
support that I wasn't wasting my time trying to write.

Specifically I need to thank BlueWords, for taking the bit character of
Rhianna Summer and turning her into a leading lady in her own right.  Thank
you Mike Ink for cleaning up my work so it's readable.  Thank you the
collected peoples of the BDSM story groups who kept me going with your
comments and your help with research.  Thank you Rhianna for the use of your
lovely name.  Thank you Meghan for your help in a time of need.

This story is dedicated to the memory of my wife, Maria, who helped me most
of all by just being there for inspiration.

Peter.

Catch up on all my stories at http://www.dajungle.com/stories/leviticus
If you're having problems contacting me, try leviticusthebard@hotmail.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations.         |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+