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Subject: {ASSM} The Innocent Fugitives Ch26 {Varkel} (MF MM Fm oral anal rape bd bi)
Date: Fri,  2 Mar 2001 15:10:06 -0500
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The Innocent Fugitives
a Novel by Varkel
Copyright (C) 2001, Varkel



Chapter 26:  Studies in Depth



One hall of Bobbie's floor contained rooms, each with its own 
combination lock of numbered push-buttons on the door.  Residents 
here might be locked in all the time.  With no staff in sight, 
Bobbie tried one door after another.  Shortly she found one 
unlocked and stuck her head inside.  The room was exactly like 
her own with bed and stand, except this bed contained only a bare 
mattress.  The room obviously was unoccupied.  She strolled 
inside and used its bathroom.

When she returned to the hall the skinny nurse from breakfast was 
just passing.  She glared at Bobbie.  "What were you doing in 
there?" she demanded loudly, then guessed more quietly, "Diddling 
yourself?"

"I had to pee," the girl answered.  "Why do these doors have 
special locks?"

The woman sniffed.  "If you could see some of these poor little 
devils, you'd know."  She cocked her head with a sneer.  "We're 
waiting to find out if you ought to move to the secure hall."

"How can you tell?"

"We can tell."  Her voice dropped almost to a whisper.  "Catching 
you fucking the janitor would be a good reason."

"Is he fun?" the girl asked with an innocent expression.

The woman looked over her shoulder.  Not another person was in 
sight.  Tucking the paper bag she carried under her arm, she held 
out both forefingers about a foot apart and stared at Bobbie 
expectantly.  "He's got a black one this long."

The girl allowed her eyebrows to rise.  "Did you just love it?"

The woman frowned.  "A fast ass _and_ a smart ass, are you?  Get 
out of here.  You're not allowed on the secure hall."

Bobbie turned obediently, moving silently in her Mickey Mouse 
slippers.  When she heard the woman's footfalls cease behind her, 
she turned back, pausing to watch.  The nurse's forefinger jabbed 
four times at a lock.  Even at a distance of 50 feet Bobbie could 
see the pattern: the zigzag of 1, 2, 3, 4.  Resuming her exit, 
she chuckled at its simplicity, adding a second chuckle for her 
surmise that very likely all the rest of the locks were set to 
the same sequence.


* * *


When Calhoun returned to the torture chamber, he wore slippers 
and a dark velvet robe, streaming open from his shoulders.  His 
dark penis was visible and to Jenny's surprise, considering that 
he had presumably been closeted with his mother, fully erected.  
Paul's eyes rounded.  He was unable to stifle a gasp.  Under 
other circumstances this might have amused Jenny, but she had 
seen this organ's amazing dimensions when withdrawn from Paul the 
previous evening.

Calhoun came to her and massaged her belly, watching her as she 
winced.  "How sore is it?"

She took a deep breath.  "I don't think you ...  I don't think 
anything is ruptured."

He nodded.  "It shouldn't be.  That was a blow calculated to 
disturb the lower organs without causing real damage.  If another 
must be dealt, it may not be so gentle.  Mamma talks of applying 
a baseball bat."

Jenny squeaked involuntarily.

The man chuckled.  "Yes, you made an impression on her.  She has 
much less interest in keeping you alive now than she did an hour 
ago."

His hand dipped, fingers forcing her labia apart, then 
penetrating her.  She cringed back, closing her legs in vain.

"Now why should that hurt you?" he inquired.  "You would do 
better to follow the Chinese advice for women in your 
predicament.  There is after all absolutely _nothing_ you can do 
to prevent me invading your body as I wish!  I could put my arm 
up your rectum to the elbow, for example, and swooning would be 
the most response you could manage."

Jenny stared in horror.  He chuckled.  "You tempt me, sweetie.  
But in fact I am no sadist.  Unlike Mamma, I take no particular 
pleasure in causing pain to others.  I prefer to stimulate my own 
mucous membranes, thanks just the same."

He whirled around in front of her and forced her legs apart with 
his knees.  Stooping while guiding himself into the center of her 
groin, he pushed her back to the limits of her chains, at which 
point her flesh, dry with fear, nevertheless parted before him.  
Hands gripping her buttocks forcefully, he worked his huge organ 
into her tender vagina.

"You liar!" she hissed.  "You'll tear me!  You do love to hurt, 
don't you!"

He licked her neck and drew back, grinning.  "I feel no pain, my 
dear, and in case you haven't noticed, your pain doesn't matter."  
He thrust in and out of her several times.  "Getting easier, 
isn't it?"

He turned to look at Paul.  "What do you think about all this, 
Mr. Lanning?"

Paul shook his head.  "I feel very sorry for my poor Jenny."

Calhoun grinned.  "Do you think it's worse for her than for you 
last night?"

"Well --"

"Cunt was meant for cock, after all, even a dry and impatient 
one, even one large as mine.  But your asshole, sir --  Did I 
correctly surmise that it was virgin?"

"You son of a ..."

When Paul's voice trailed off, the big man grinned.  "I'm glad to 
see you're still teachable, Mr. Lanning."

He withdrew from Jenny, turned and went to the control desk.  The 
motors rumbled, playing out clanking links of the chain attached 
to Jenny's wrists.  She sagged to her knees.  As the chain 
continued to emerge, she folded to a kneeling position, head down 
almost to the floor, hands between her legs.  Paul's chains were 
not affected.

Calhoun picked up a straight chair and bore it onto the tile 
behind Jenny.  He stooped, caught her by the hips and pulled her 
backwards up into his lap, her legs straddling his own.  One arm 
encircled her waist, holding her in position, while his hand 
delved into the pocket of his robe and reappeared with a tube of 
lubricant.  His fingers applied it liberally to her anus, 
suggesting what he meant to do next, but she only sagged over his 
arm, head lolling dispiritedly and hands trailing toward the 
floor.

She made no resistance.  Indeed his second entrance was easier 
than the first because of the lubricant.  His hands rose to her 
breasts and closed into fists.  She groaned and shuddered as the 
muscles stood out on his forearms.

"And now, my dear, the faster you bounce on my cock the easier 
I'll squeeze your tits."

Taking a deep breath, Jenny began frenziedly to bounce up and 
down to the accompaniment of her rattling chains.  Soon she was 
panting.  Her body glistened with sweat.  Calhoun pulled her head 
back to his own and tongued her ear wetly.  His body stiffened 
and he emitted a choking sound.  Her eyes opened wide as her 
bouncing eased.  Hands on her hips forced her erect.  She 
staggered forward and fell to her knees, from there again to her 
elbows.  Calhoun rose and took the chair away.

"Did he come?" Paul whispered.

"Yes," she whispered back.

"Was it cold?"

She turned her face up toward him and screeched a bitter laugh 
through her tears, cut short as her chains began to tighten.


* * *


The skinny nurse had been gone now for several minutes.  Bobbie 
threw her magazine on the table and sauntered casually around the 
corner to the secure hall.  No one was visible except the little 
girl who wouldn't talk, still sitting on the floor at the 
intersection, her thumb in her mouth.

Bobbie came to the first door with a combination lock.  It 
wouldn't open; presumably it contained an occupant.  She punched 
in the combination, 1, 2, 3, 4, and heard a click.  Hand again on 
the knob, she looked over her shoulder one last time.  Though a 
hundred feet away, the child with thumb in mouth was watching 
avidly.

Bobbie faced back and turned the knob.  Now the door swung 
silently inward.  She slipped past it and closed it quietly 
behind her to the click of the latch.  Remembering too late, she 
twisted the knob and found that the door was again locked, but 
she breathed a sigh of relief when she spied the same combination 
plate on the inside.

She spun around.  This bed, head raised perhaps 30 degrees, was 
occupied.  The body lying in it was naked above the thighs and 
clearly male, another boy about Gerry's age, she thought, with 
curly black hair, wisps on chin and chest and somewhat thicker 
pubes.  The glans of the circumcised penis glowed pinkly from its 
dark surround, hardly protruding from the hair.  Its extreme 
brevity did not surprise the girl; she had seen many in that 
state temporarily.

But something was wrong with the owner's legs.  The bedcovers 
were bunched close below his genitals as if pushed down off his 
torso, but no long furrows of legs and turned up toes appeared 
beneath them.  Were they folded under him somehow?

Bobbie drew near the bed.  She thought his green eyes were 
beautifully clear.  "What's wrong with your legs?"

The green eyes stared at her for a moment.  "Got to pee."

"Then go to the bathroom."

"Can't."

She had acted as a nurse, which besides cooking, washing and 
fellatio had included fetching the urinal bottle for her Uncle 
Kenny the time he fell while drunk and broke his leg.  Thus she 
recognized the bottle on the floor at the foot of the bed.  She 
raised it up and found it half full.

"Hold on a minute," she advised.  In the lavatory she dumped the 
contents into the toilet, returned to the bed and tucked the lip 
of it under the boy's shrunken knob.  She smiled at the green 
eyes.  "Cut loose."

Urine rattled strongly into the plastic bottle.  She moved the 
bunched covers lower in the bed, letting the bottle lie at a 
steeper angle -- and froze.  Now she understood about his legs.  
He possessed none.  No buttocks, either.  His lower body sloped 
roundly from his hips to a blunt point, occupied by scrotum and 
penis.

She looked up into the green eyes.  "What happened to them?"

"Born that way."

She took a deep breath.  "I wish you hadn't been."

"Yeah."

"But ... what are you doing here?  Don't they have a school for 
people like you?"

"Did have.  It burned down."

"I'm sure they have another."

"Maybe.  _I_ burned it down."

"You did?"

"I did.  I set the linen closet on fire."

The liquid had ceased to rattle.  "Squish it," she ordered.

He understood and closed his sphincters, causing the demanded 
sound.

"Any more?" she asked.

"No."

Careful not to spill it, she removed the bottle and took it 
immediately to the toilet.  When she returned, she set it back in 
its original place and stood beside the bed with arms akimbo.

"Why did you burn your school down?  Didn't you like it?"

He shrugged.  "It was all right.  They took Gracie away."

"Gracie?"

"My girl friend."

"You mean she moved somewhere else?"

"No.  They took her away from _me_.  We were perfect together.  
She was born without arms.  I made her bleed."

"You fucked her!"

"Only once.  Then they took her away."

Bobbie wanted to laugh but she remained carefully solemn.  
"You've got arms.  Why didn't you get Gracie to bring you a clean 
sheet?"

"She couldn't.  _She_ didn't have arms."

Slowly Bobbie nodded.  "I see your point.  How would a legless 
boy and an armless girl make a bed?"

"You think it's funny?"

Slowly she shook her head.  "I think it was terrible.  I'm so 
sorry for --"

Something rattled the door.  Someone was working the combination, 
apparently incorrectly.  The knob turned to no effect, followed 
by a muffled curse.  Quick as a flash Bobbie dashed into the 
adjacent lavatory.  She pushed its door nearly closed just as the 
main door finally opened to admit the huge nurse who had 
literally held Bobbie for Alice yesterday.

The big woman waddled across the floor, fat lips wreathed in a 
smile.  "How you feeling, honey?" she asked, reaching the foot of 
the bed.

"Okay," answered the boy indifferently.

"I'll just empty your urinal," the woman declared, stooping and 
hefting the bottle.  "It's empty.  Do you need to go?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"You're not drinking enough, Billy," the woman admonished, 
returning the bottle to the floor.  "I'll bring you a coke in 
just a minute."

She grinned fatuously at the boy then turned her back to him, 
leaning backward over the bed while supporting herself with hands 
on the bedside.  She said nothing, but Bobbie could see the boy's 
shoulder twitch, followed by the sound of a zipper.  The woman 
stood up.  The zipper sang briefly again.  She stepped forward 
and shrugged out of her white knee-skirted uniform, which she 
folded neatly on the tray table.  The boy had obviously unzipped 
it for her.

Her slip went over her head.  Hands behind her unhooked the plain 
brassiere, freeing huge melon-like breasts to dance as she 
stooped to force panty hose and panties down her fat legs.  
Removing one shoe, she stepped out of that hose, leaving the 
garment bunched around the other ankle.

She turned around to face the boy.  Bending at the waist, she 
converged hands and face on his truncated extremity, but only 
briefly.

She raised her head.  "Smells like you need to pee.  Are you sure 
you don't?"

"I'm sure."

"I'd give you a bath but I'm running late.  I'll tell Covey."

"Okay."

Down went the head again and commenced to bob.  The boy's hand 
rose to fondle a huge breast.  Bobby saw it close on a nipple 
larger than it could hold.  The woman's hand plunged between her 
legs.  Bobby could see the knuckle's rhythmic appearance.

Presently the woman stood up, looking down with a fond 
expression.  Her chin glistened and at first Bobbie thought she 
had taken the boy's ejaculate, then recognized enthusiastic 
slobber.  One of the fat hands gripped the newly erected member.  
Bobbie's eyes widened.  She had nearly handled the tiny version 
of this one herself, but from her vast experience she could 
recall none that grew so far from so little.  This knob was thick 
as Professor Hawker's had been, and the shaft was half again 
longer!

"Billy, I'm in too much of a hurry for you to lick me.  Are you 
too disappointed?"

"It's okay."

The woman crawled onto the bed with her back toward the foot, her 
legs spread around the lad's torso.  Reaching forward, she caught 
his arms and pulled him up and over on top of her.  His rotation 
exposed her genitals momentarily.  To Bobbie it seemed that the 
swollen cock simply fell into the crevice between the hairy, fat 
lips.

The woman giggled.  "I don't need a licking, do I, honey?  Oh, 
god, you are so _fine_!"

Her feet rose into the air as her plump thighs closed around his 
shrunken bottom.  His arching back in counterpoint to her rocking 
hips together produced a thoroughly wet and lubricious enfolding 
of inflamed tissues.  The thrusts and withdrawals caused gurgles 
of suction, soon drowned out by the woman's guttural cries.

Bobbie watched the working flesh with wide eyes and wet lips, her 
hand sneaking under her shift.  But she shook her head violently.  
This was probably her only chance.  The woman was sure to come 
into the lavatory afterwards on one excuse or another.

Bending low, the girl slipped silently by the panting couple.  
The door opened readily after she keyed the simple sequence.  She 
paused on the threshold to look back.  The woman's head was 
thrown back, her mouth open to grunt between gasps of breath.  
Fortunately her eyes were clenched shut.  The boy's head was 
turned up above hers.  His green eyes were wide open, staring 
into Bobbie's.  As she watched, his lips puckered as if in a 
kiss.

She closed the door noiselessly and turned away.  The little girl 
was still sitting across the intersecting hall, still watching 
and still sucking her thumb.  Bobbie walked toward her 
purposefully.  Standing over her, she asked, "Well?"

Out came the thumb.  "Did you see them fuck?"

This was a child of maybe eight or nine.

"What do you know about it?" Bobbie asked.

"Hinkle does him in the morning and Covey in the afternoon."

"So they have to check on him.  And empty his pee pot."

The girl grinned.  "That ain't all."

"What else?"

"When they come out, they smell like jism, but not when they go 
in."

"Where'd you ever smell jism?"

"I used to live with a nasty pedo."

Bobbie sniffed and started to turn away but paused.  "Why do you 
call him nasty?"

"He only wanted to fuck up my ass.  Ain't that nasty?"

Bobbie sighed.  "Sometimes.  Does Alice go to see Billie, too?"

The little girl nodded.  "She's only here twice a week, you 
know."

"And does she smell like jism when she comes out?"

"I don't know.  She smells too different anyway."


* * *


Calhoun left the room for a long while, leaving his prisoners 
hanging erect though with fair slack.  He returned wearing the 
same unbelted robe but now with flaccid penis swinging loosely 
between his legs.  He bore an opened coke bottle in one hand that 
he presented first to Paul's lips, then to Jenny's, permitting 
each to take about half.

He brought the chair and sat in it at the edge of the carpet, 
rocking back to study their sagging bodies.  After a moment he 
got up and went again to Paul, bending to examine his genitals at 
close range.  He turned around, hooked the chair with his foot 
and dragged it onto the tile in front of his prisoner.  Again he 
sat and looked up into Paul's wondering eyes.

"The last cock I sucked was Bud's," he noted almost clinically, 
"right after he pulled it out of Beth's ass.  Did you ever taste 
your wife's ass, Mr. Lanning?  I mean inside her rectum.  Ever 
stick your tongue in there?"

Paul swallowed.  "Yes," he admitted in a low voice.

"How did it taste?"

"I didn't do it for taste."

"Too bad.  After a couple of enemas and a good reaming by a pair 
of cocks, it was actually sweet.  She was a rare woman.  
Everything about her was delicious.  Everything, that is, but her 
personality.  I despised that.  If she had been just a little 
less grasping, I wouldn't have killed her."

"She couldn't help that," Paul declared stoutly.  "It's how she 
was brought up."

"And how was that?"

"Her mother was a whore.  She never knew her father."

"Is her mother dead?"

"Yes.  She came home drunk and broke the key off in her trailer 
door.  She passed out and froze to death on her own stoop.  Beth 
was her duplicate in looks."

"And personality, no doubt."  Calhoun's hand lifted the penis 
before his face.  "Did you put this in her ass, Lanning?"

"You must know she liked it everywhere."

"I know."  The big hand manipulated Paul's foreskin.  Calhoun 
added with a sigh, "Killing her is one of the few things in my 
life I regret.  I built this room for her, in case you wondered, 
and another person I had in mind, exactly her opposite."  He 
laughed ironically.  "Isn't it strange how things turn out?  I 
needed to put Beth here to protect my secrets and Ruth to make 
her behave like Beth.  Beth forced my hand, threatening to rat 
before this room was ready, and it turned out that all Ruth 
needed was for me to ask her.  Now she does all Beth's tricks, 
only with more enthusiasm and stamina.  How ironical!  I didn't 
need this half million dollar room after all."

"Oh, no?"  Paul sniffed.  "We've noticed the BB-shot along the 
carpet.  We're not the first victims."

"That's true.  In fact you're the fourth and fifth.  Few people 
seem to last around Mamma."

"Why are we here at all?"

Calhoun shrugged.  "Bad luck for you, good for me.  With you here 
the prime suspects for that double murder are reliably out of 
reach, thus permanently reducing speculation about the real perp.  
Another reason to bring you here is so that I could suck Beth's 
next-to-last cock.  Did you know that your sperm was found in her 
womb?"

Calhouns's handling had partly erected Paul's organ.  Now the big 
man leaned forward and sucked it into his mouth.  Paul stiffened, 
cutting his face around to stare at Jenny.  She stared down at 
the spectacle of the powerful hands clamped on Paul's buttocks 
while their owner's mouth worked on the completely engulfed 
penis.  She craned her head further to look along the line of 
Calhoun's belly.  His own substantial organ remained flaccid.  
Her lip curled in bemused disgust.

She looked up at Paul and cocked an eyebrow.  A line of spittle 
was dangling otherwise unnoticed from his lip.  Residue of the 
sweet coke or sign of fascination?  She opened her mouth to ask 
Calhoun if he were a rich man but caught herself in time.  Did 
she really care that he seemed to prefer Paul? ... For cocks, at 
least.  She was ahead on cunts.  Assholes were a tie.

Calhoun raised his head.  "You're about to come, aren't you?"

"God, yes!" Paul proclaimed.  "Jiggle it, at least."

Calhoun laughed.  "I'll do better than that.  I'll show you the 
advantage of being chained up."

He closed his lips again around the pulsing organ, cheeks 
collapsing with suction.  Paul groaned once, then a second time, 
louder.  He tried to withdraw his hips, but Calhoun's arms had 
encircled them.

Paul's next groan was a scream.  His body twisted, feet kicking, 
arms flailing to the limits of their clanging chains, not nearly 
far enough to dislodge the sucking mouth with its keen pleasure 
that was now also the purest agony.  The experience became 
literally unbearable.  He slumped, his whole body sagging, 
heedless of the cuffs biting his wrists with his entire weight.

At that development Calhoun released him and sat back.  A last 
white dribble fell from the tip of the inflamed penis.

"My god!" Jenny exclaimed.  "Is he ...  Is he --"

"Passed out," announced the big man, grinning up at her.  "Now he 
knows the meaning of 'unbearable pleasure.'  Everyone should try 
it once.  I'll do the same for you in a day or two, if Mamma 
doesn't kill you first."


* * *


After such an interesting start, Bobbie's morning went only 
downhill.  She roamed the wards, looking through doorways at 
other patients.  When the rare nurse saw her, she was invariably 
shooed away from those rooms and told to stay close to her own.  
Her gray linen hospital shift, full size at last, reached just 
below her knees.  Her forearms were bare.  The Mickey Mouse 
slippers on her feet contrasted incongruously with the dull 
blandness of everything else around her.

She could not win over any of the nurses with cutesy smiles or 
affectations of innocence.  They sneered at her, and at lunch one 
of them actually slapped her hard on the back of the head when 
she refused to eat the boiled cabbage on her dinner tray.  The 
woman had also called her a little slut and claimed to fear she 
had diseases no one had yet discovered.

She did manage to find herself an amusing boy sometime after 
lunch was over.  She found him hiding on the floor behind a couch 
in one of the lounging rooms.  His smock was tucked up under his 
chin and he was fingering his small penis in fascination.  He 
seemed only somewhat younger than she.

"What are you doing?" she asked innocently as sat beside him on 
the floor.

He did not respond, although he looked at her face and moved his 
lips in a curious way.

"I know how to make it feel better," she said sweetly, taking the 
small, hard rod into her grasp.

A frightened look came over the boy's face when Bobbie began to 
masturbate him expertly.  She formed a circle of forefinger and 
thumb and worked him within it, her trailing fingertips tickling 
the underside.  He soon broke into a large smile.

"You like that, don't you?" she asked as though she were 
addressing a dog whose belly she was scratching.

"Oh!" the boy exclaimed before long and looked down in amazement 
as his cock erupted for the first time in his life, producing a 
surprisingly copious squirt that splashed on one of his knees.

"Bobbie Gentry," she heard her name called from the hallway.

She jumped to her feet and licked the boy's spunk from her hand.  
"I have to go now," she said regretfully, edging toward the door.  
The boy looked dumbly at her, then turned again to pull on his 
cock.


* * *


"Bobbie Gentry.  Come with me!"

Bobbie pulled a wedgie from the rear of her shift and walked at a 
leisurely pace toward the waiting nurse, whose expression of 
impatience had graduated to annoyance.

When she was in range, the woman grabbed her arm.  "Come on, 
slow-poke!  The doctors are almost here."

Bobbie lurched willy-nilly down the hall behind the nurse.  "I'm 
not sick," she protested.

"That's what _you_ think," the nurse countered enigmatically.

"What do the doctors want?"

"You'll find out.  Do you need the restroom?"

"No."

The woman led her into an antiseptically white room with a padded 
examination table at one end and a curiously made chair at the 
other.  It reclined, and it had two sets of armrests, one set 
raised in front of the chair.

The nurse released her.  "Take off all your clothes and get in 
the pelvic chair."

Several ordinary chairs graced the room.  Bobbie doubted that any 
of them deserved a special name.  She pointed at the peculiar 
chair.  "That one?"

"That's what I said.  Now hurry up.  They'll be here any minute."

The nurse hung shift and slippers on a coat tree and helped 
Bobbie raise her legs into the chair's stirrups.  The girl 
laughed.  "So they're _leg_ rests!"

The nurse sniffed.  "You never had a G-Y-N, did you?"

"What's that?"

"You'll find out."

A lamp was attached to one of the stirrups.  The nurse turned it 
on and positioned it to illuminate the girl's groin.

Bobbie looked down at herself and suggested, "They can't miss it 
now, can they?"

A male voice sounded from beyond the open door.  "This is an 
interesting case, doctor."  Two men wearing long white lab coats 
strolled into the room.  One was quite old, bald, face adorned 
with a flowing white beard, the other a clean-shaven young man 
with brown hair whom Bobbie, eyes widening with interest, thought 
to be much like Tom and even more handsome.

"Here is her chart."  The young man put a clipboard into the 
elder's hand.

"Summarize it," ordered the elder in a gruff voice.

"I know the term has fallen into ill-repute," the young man noted 
diffidently, "but since you ask for a summary, I believe I can 
give it in one word: nymphomania."

"Indeed!"

"We are not certain of her age; her birth certificate has not yet 
arrived from Michigan.  But judging by --"

"Ask her."

"Ah, yes, sir.  Miss Gentry, how old are you?"

This young doctor had the most interesting eyes!  But he'd be 
like Tom, Bobbie supposed, with no interest at first in a mere 
child.  She winked at him and replied, "22."

"Preposterous!" declared white beard, glaring at her.

She tossed her head.  "Well, it's the age I'd like to be!"

The young man's eyes twinkled but he cleared his throat.  "As I 
was saying, judging by size, weight and the lack of developing 
secondary sexual characteristics, we believe her to be twelve, 
perhaps verging on thirteen."

"Rather young for your primary diagnosis, wouldn't you say, 
doctor?"

"Yes, sir, indeed she is young.  But I must protest your 
characterization of my summary as a diagnosis.  No such 
conclusion is possible yet.  We need much more information, of 
course.  And nymphomania is no longer recognized as a true 
psychological deviation."

The older man chuckled.  "Yes.  Nowadays it almost seems to be 
the preferred state.  Then one may presume this young lady is not 
_virgo intacta_.  Nurse, a speculum, please."

The woman opened a drawer in the front of the chair and handed 
the doctor an instrument made of clear plastic.  The man leaned 
forward, one hand directing the light, and applied the tips 
delicately between Bobbie's labia.

"Ooo!" murmured the girl.

The nurse suggested, "Doctor Felder, don't you need jelly?"

"Nurse, do you see that moisture on the perineum?  This one needs 
no jelly."  As he spoke he slid the collapsed spokes into the 
girl's body.  Her only response was a slight twitch.

"This patient is certainly suggestible," white-beard noted.  "But 
tell me, Dr. Sonnenschein, what is the basis of your summary?"

"She recorded a tape in her voice in which she reports her sexual 
exploits to an apparently affectionate male friend.  I have a 
copy of it and its transcript, if you wish to study them.  I have 
counted the incidents.  She claims contact with 87 different men 
and boys in a three-year period, and I understand the police have 
verified some of them."

"87 different men?"

"Yes, sir, with many repetitions in some cases."

"Well, I'd say that qualifies!"  The elder doctor had compressed 
the handles of the speculum and was peering into the girl's 
recesses.  "Look here, doctor," he ordered.  The young man bent 
beside him.  "I know gynecology is of little concern to 
psychiatrists, but this should interest you, especially in view 
of your, ah, _summary_.  Do you see this cervix?  It is prolapsed 
upward and apparently imperforate, more appropriate to a girl of 
six or seven than one entering adolescence."

The old man raised up to regard the girl's interested face.  
"Miss, will you confirm that you have never experienced menses?"

Bobbie cocked an eyebrow.  "What's the right answer, doc?"

The hovering nurse responded, "He means, have you ever had your 
period?"

The young man was watching her intently.  She replied with a 
shrug, "Oh, yeah, lots of times."

Dr. Felder grunted and glanced meaningfully around to 
Sonnenschein.  "I'm beginning to understand why you're prime on 
this one."  He leaned forward between the girl's legs and pressed 
one side of her belly near the hip with his thumb.

"Hey, that hurts!" Bobbie complained.

He transferred his thumb to the other side, pressing again.  
Bobbie snarled, gripping the arms of the chair as if preparing to 
rise, but he drew back.  "I know that was painful, miss, but it's 
over now, and I'm sorry that I hurt you."

She grated, "Haven't you learned where to push on a girl _yet_?"

The young man flashed her a grin but the nurse growled, "Shut up.  
The doctor has to examine you."

The old man said, "You may take the cultures now, nurse.  And 
draw 50 CC of blood.  We need a full workup on this one."  He 
drew back to let the woman bend between Bobbie's legs, bearing a 
kit of swabs and glass slides.

"Also, Dr. Sonnenschein, I want an X-ray of the pelvis, including 
the ovaries, if any are present."

The young man's eyebrows rose.  "If what?"

Felder shook his head.  "I couldn't feel them, doctor.  This girl 
is far less mature reproductively than your count of conquests 
would suggest.  Are you certain that tape was more than mere 
braggadocio?"

"I understand the police have verified some of the incidents 
described.  She was arrested with semen in her vagina and 
Vaseline in her rectum.  What could have happened to her 
ovaries?"

"Many things, doctor, including brevity.  What if she is a six or 
seven year old suffering from giantism?"

"What?  I can't believe that!"

"Why can't you?"

"She is far too confident and self-assured for such an age."

Felder grinned.  "Under those criteria perhaps her claim to be 22 
is valid."

"Huh!  Dr. Felder --"

"And here's something else consistent with extreme youth and a 
tape full of brags: this vagina looks to be as healthy as any I 
ever saw -- no streaks of yeast, no sign of any infection 
whatever, just glowing pink tissue glistening with its own 
secretions."

Sonnenschein cocked an eyebrow.  "'Glowing pink,' eh?"

"Excuse me.  I am apt to wax rhapsodic over this subject.  I have 
always considered a healthy vagina to be the most beautiful 
object into which the eye might probe.  Ahem!  Of course, to 
pronounce her completely healthy we must wait for the lab 
results.  But I should be surprised if they show any bacterial or 
viral problem."

"Thank you, doctor."

The older man hesitated then shrugged.  "I don't mean to tell you 
your job, doctor, but if that tape is to be believed, shouldn't 
you be leaning toward a diagnosis of OCD?"

"Well, perhaps, but not everything is on all fours here.  Of 
course, it seldom appears so at first, especially in cases of 
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.  But thank you for your concern.  
I certainly have it in mind."

The elder chuckled.  "In other words, tend to your own knitting, 
eh?  Okay, what's next, Sonnenschein?"

They turned toward the door.  The young man answered dryly, "A 
second case of Jesus Christ, if you believe the young lady.  
She's about at term but swears that no man ..."

The voice trailed away.  Bobbie said to the woman presently 
inserting small cotton-tipped rods where the plastic stretcher 
had been, "What's Obsess -- Obsesser Distorter?"

The nurse answered absently.  "You'll find out."



NEXT:  Chapter 27: Histories
Varangian:  ludmax11@hotmail.com
Kellis:     kellis@dhp.com

-- 
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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