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. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+