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Message-ID: <34110asstr$1008558611@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Laura Davis" <ldavis4@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Repost: Meat2;Kidnapped;The Board Meeting
Date: Sun, 16 Dec 2001 22:10:11 -0500
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


   <1st attachment, "meat2.txt" begin>

   Meat II by Laura Lynn Davis SF F/F Snuff Copyright 2001, all rights
reserved

   I don't care what your sexual orientation is, being in a crowded hallway
with 200 other women, all nude, is a very sexual experience.  I'd been on
my way home from work when I was caught up in one of the D'Alaan's periodic
sweeps.  I knew I'd been targeted because I was young and fit.  The fact
that I, like most of the other women in the hallway, was also fairly
attractive meant little or nothing to the D'Alaan.

   Some of them liked to fuck human women but most of them considered it a
perversion.  We'd have felt the same about a human fucking a sheep before
he slaughtered it for food.  But, like human society, there were a growing
number of perverts among the D'Alaan.  And, surprisingly, a growing number
of D'Alaan females were taking human women for pets.

   The D'Alaan had arrived in 2010.  The first D'Alaan warship arrived in
Earth orbit on the 22nd of March.  By the end of the month there were more
than fifty ships in orbit.  No contact had been made.  The D'Alaan ignored
all attempts to contact them.  Did we ever pay attention to the bleating of
sheep or the lowing of cows?  A shuttle launched to attempt contact was
destroyed before it reached orbit.  Then the manned space station was
destroyed and the D'Alaan landings began.  Earth was subdued within ninety
days.  The D'Alaan subjugated us with very little destruction of our
infrastructure.  Our military capabilities were wiped out but they left
most everything else intact.  Life went on and the D'Alaan began their
selective harvests.

   The D'Alaan are slightly larger, on average, than humans.  Their males
average about 6' and the women average about 5' 10".  Physically they are
very similar to humans.  The main difference being their slightly bluish
skin color.  Their hair tends to be so black as to appear blue in some
light.  The other external differences are very subtle.  Internally, they
are quite different from humans.  They have two hearts for one thing.  And
they are more muscular, leading to speculation that their world is somewhat
denser than Earth.  The arrangement and function of their sexual organs is
very similar to humans.  The males tend to have a thicker penis than humans
but the lenght is about the same.  There is little noticeable difference in
the female sexual organs.

   The D'Alaan sweep had caught me as I waited for a bus.  I was stripped
right there on the street, graded, and loaded into the back of a step-van
that the D'Alaan were using as a collection vehicle.  There were already a
dozen other women inside, many of them crying.  Others just stared off into
space.  Knowing that you're meat isn't something that brightens your day. I
pushed my way to one side of the van and sat down with my back against the
side, hugging my drawn-up knees.  The van lurched into motion and stopped
just a few minutes later.  The back door opened and a blonde teenager
climbed in.  She was crying but quietly, not hysterically like some of the
others.  She stood there for a moment looking around.  She caught my eye
and nodded.  Then she pushed her way through the crowd and sat down next to
me.

   "You're the only one who doesn't seem to be on the verge of a total
breakdown." She smiled and held her hand out.  "I'm Annie Sutliff."

   I shook her hand.  "Amanda Adams." She looked awful young to me but when
you've just turned thirty a lot of people start to look impossibly young.
"How old are you, Annie?"

   "Seventeen.  I was on my way home from school." She took a deep breath
and whispered, "I'm scared."

   I slipped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.  "Don't give
up hope yet.  We might be able to escape before ...." I let my voice trail
off.  Annie put her head on my shoulder and we sat there in silence for
several minutes.

   "What's going to happen to us?  I mean the details.  I know we're going
to be processed."

   I shrugged.  Processed was a much nicer term than butchered but it meant
the same thing.  "I'm not sure.  We'll be regraded at the processing
center. Nobody's figured out their system yet but since you and I have the
same mark I assume we're the same grade.  After regrading we'll be sent on
to the processing center.  There's a chance along the way that we could be
diverted and used as sex slaves.  But I wouldn't pin my hopes on that. 
Although, the D'Alaan seem fascinated by blondes.  At the processing center
we'll be washed and given an enema with a hose.  After we're cleaned out
we'll be killed, hung on a meat hook while our blood drains out.  Then
we'll be gutted, cleaned, and butchered.  The processed meat is frozen and
shipped back to D'Alaan."

   'How will they kill us?"

   "Depends on the processors.  Some favor decaptiation, others a shot in
the back of the head with a small-caliber pistol.  Some just brain you with
a heavy mallet."

   I felt her shiver and I squeezed her for a moment.

   She turned toward me and turned her face up.  "Oh, God!  I want my
mother."

   She began to cry and not knowing what else to do I slid my hand up to
the back of her neck, drew her closer, and kissed her.  Her lips were soft.
I pushed my tongue into her mouth and she sighed.  Her body melted against
mine and I rubbed her back as our tongues met.  I heard someone mutter
"Fuckin' dyke." But I didn't pay any attention.

   We had sex right there in the truck, surrounded by other nude women. 
Annie was wet when I slipped my hand between her legs after kissing and
fondling her for several minutes.  She was a virgin and tight but I managed
to get three fingers into her while she moaned and whimpered.  I
masturbated her to orgasm, her first.  I licked my fingers clean, savoring
the sweet taste of virgin pussy.  I wanted to lick her and she wanted it
too so she stood up and braced herself against the side of the van, her
back to me.  She arched her back, pushing her butt out, presenting her
pussy to my eager tongue.  I brought her to orgasm again and she screamed
with pleasure as she came.  It was her last.

   We arrived at the processing center a few minutes later and were herded
inside.  We stood in the hallway, holding hands, with 200 other women
milling around us.

   I made some space by pushing people back and then pushed Annie to her
knees.  I stood there, ruffling her hair, while she licked my pussy.  She
wasn't very good at it but she got the job done.

   The line finally began to move and we were direct to the right when we
finally emerged into a large room with tiled walls.  There were four
processing stations.  As each woman reached the head of the line she was
doused with a detergent solution.  At the same time a nozzle was inserted
into her rectum and the water turned on.  Each woman was required to void
twice while squatting over a hole in the floor.  Then the woman was hosed
down and sent through a door into the killing room.  I caught a glimpse of
a slender redhead just as her head jumped from her shoulders.  Two D'Alaan
grabbed her body and carried it out of sight.

   I was in front of Annie when we reached the head of the line.  I cried
in shame as they inserted the nozzle into my ass.  I voided twice and was
hosed down.  Then, as I was walking toward the door to the killing room I
was intercepted by a D'Alaan female.  She took my arm and guided me off to
the side.  I stood and watched as they hosed Annie down.  I glanced at the
D'Alaan female.  "Please, save her too."

   She shook her head and led me through a door into a room with a window
that looked out over the killing floor.  I watched in horror as Annie was
beheaded.  Two D'Alaan grabbed her body and carried her forward.  They tied
her ankles together and hung her from a hook.  They let the blood drain out
of her for a good ten minutes.  The D'Alaan female made me stand and watch.
When the blood flow had mostly stopped, one of the males gutted Annie and
they cleaned her out with a hose.  Then she was butchered and wrapped and
her parts were placed in a freezer.

   The female turned to me and waved her hand at the window.  "Your choice,
human.  Do you want to follow your friend or would you perfer to be my
pet?"

   I stared at her in silence for a moment.  Part of me wanted to tell her
to go to hell.  But I didn't want to die, not then, not like that.  I sank
to my knees and kissed her hand in submission.  "Please, let me be your
pet." I stayed on my knees, sobbing, while she registered me with the
D'Alaan military authorities, using a wireless digital device.  I was
collared and tagged and then I began my new life as a D'Alaan pet.  My new
owner informed me that she'd been given a twoyear permit.  At the end of
two years, if the permit wasn't renewed, I'd be processed.

   The End.

   <1st attachment end>

   <2nd attachment, "kidnap.txt" begin>

   Kidnapped by Laura Lynn Davis M; F/F Copyright 2001, all rights reserved

   Looking back, she was embarrassed at how easily he'd taken her.  She was
waiting at the bus stop with her backpack and sports bag when the
non-descript Toyota 4Runner pulled up.  The driver, a man in his early
thirties, pointed a 9mm automatic at her and said, "Get in." When she
hesitated he said, "I'll kill you right her and then drive to school and
kill some of your friends." She put her things in the back seat and got in.
He glanced at her as he pulled away from the curb.  "Fasten your seatbelt."
That was the last thing he said to her for close to an hour.

   Her name was Mollie Maguire and she was seventeen years old, a senior at
Cathedral High, an honor student and an athlete.  She was a tall,
heartbreakingly beautiful blonde with a strong, athletic body and long
beautiful legs.  Her green eyes blazed with a fierce intelligence.  When
her kidnapper failed to answer any of her questions she settled down in her
seat and began to think about ways to get out of her predicament.

   The man, known as Hawk to those few who knew him at all, glanced at the
girl and wondered who wanted her dead.  Someone did, enough to pay him
$25,000 to do the job.  It was too bad because she was a beauty.  The
stubborn look in her eyes told him to be careful.  He watched, amused, as
she eased her skirt up, showing off more and more of her long, firm thighs.
But he gave no sign that he noticed and she soon gave up.

   By 9:00 a.m., just when Mollie's absence was beginning to be noticed,
they were parked in a deserted spot out in the desert, at the head of a box
canyon.  Hawk walked Mollie to a spot five yards away from the 4Runner and
made her kneel with her hands laced behind her neck.  Then he walked back
and unloaded her backpack and sports bag.  Next, he took a spade and a
shotgun, a Remington pump action, and a small canvas bag out of the back of
the 4Runner.

   He locked the 4Runner and then gestured for Mollie to get up.  "Get your
backpack and bag." Then he marched her into the canyon, keeping a good five
yards between them at all times.  They marched up the canyon for a
quarter-mile and turned off into a narrow cut.  A hundred yards in he
halted her and she dropped her backpack and bag and waited.

   He put the shovel, bag, and shotgun down and opened the bag, taking out
a pair of work boots, a pair of heavy socks, and a pair of canvas gloves.
He tossed these items in Mollie's direction.  "Strip and put those on." He
walked over and sat down on a small rise and watched impassively as Mollie
slowly removed her clothes.  When she was naked she sat down on her clothes
and pulled on the socks and work boots.  Then she stood up and pulled the
gloves on.  "What now?"

   Being naked didn't seem to faze her.  He supposed it had something to do
with being rich and beautiful.  Or maybe it was because she was an athlete.
He got up and walked a few yards to a relatively flat spot.  He marked off
an area roughly 6' x 3'.  "Dig."

   Mollie picked up the spade and glanced at the spot he'd marked.  She
went pale for a moment as she realized he was making her dig her own grave.
He moved back to his spot on the rise and sat down with the shotgun resting
across his lap.  She measured the distance.  He was a good twenty feet
away. There was no way she could get to him with the shovel before he cut
her down with the shotgun.  Hawk watched her calculate everything out and
saw her shoulders slump when she realized she couldn't get to him before he
killed her.  Smart kid.

   She began to dig.  She was nicely tanned except for some milk-white
triangles where she'd been covered by a rather small bikini, a thong
judging by her tan lines.  She was going to suffer under the desert sun,
especially where she wasn't tanned.  Hawk watched as she dug.  The kid was
strong and she made steady progress.  He watched the play of muscles in her
arms and legs and watched the way her firm, full breasts bounced with her
movements.  He liked the way her buttocks flexed as she drove the spade
into the ground.  But he was careful not to get too interested because he
knew if he did she'd be on him with the spade in a flash.

   After fifteen minutes she paused and glanced at him.  "There's some
sunscreen in my sports bag.  Can I have it?"

   He thought about it for a moment.  No sense in torturing the kid.  He
nodded and watched warily as she crossed to the bag and opened it.  She
took out a tube of sun screen and spread it over her body, working
steadily, ignoring him as if he wasn't there.  Then she went back and
resumed digging.  He allowed her a ten-minute break at hourly intervals. 
He was in no hurry and she certainly wasn't.

   When she took her first break she sat down on the mound of dirt that was
piling up and glanced at him with frank curiosity.  "Who's paying you to
kill me?" When he didn't answer she shrugged and said, "I can't think of
anyone who hates me." She was perspiring heavily and her skin gleamed.  She
was streaked with dirt and her long, blonde hair was in disarray but she
was still stunning to look at.  He opened his bag and took out a bottle of
water.  He tossed it to her and she plucked it out of the air with casual
ease.  "Thanks." She took several short sips and then capped the bottle.

   She worked steadily for another hour and he admired her for not breaking
down.  During her second break she glanced at him and asked, "Are you going
to rape me?" He threw her a disgusted look and shook his head.  She smiled.
"Okay, so you're a murderer but not a rapist.  Reason I asked is I don't
want to die a virgin."

   He shook his head and pointed to the hole.  She shrugged.  "Well, it was
worth a try." She got up and went back to work.  He smiled when her back
was turned.  The kid hadn't given up.  She wanted to get him within arm's
reach.  He might have fallen for it if he didn't know that her father, her
birth father, had trained her to defend herself.  He'd been a marine, Force
Recon, and he'd taught her all the deadly little tricks he'd learned over
the years.  He remembered the way she watched him when they'd been in the
4Runner, just waiting for a chance to pounce.  But once she'd fastened the
rigged seatbelt she didn't have a chance.

   At her third break she took several sips of water and then stared out
across the desert.  "I never thought I'd die before my eighteenth
birthday." Suddenly, her body stiffened and she hissed, "My stepfather. 
That bastard!  He wants to keep control of my trust fund!' She glanced at
Hawk and saw him watching.  The look on his face told her that he wouldn't
be receptive to being bought off with promises but she tried anyway.  She
promised him any amount he wanted if he'd just let her go.  He stared at
her without replying.  She went back to digging.

   At her next break she knew she was close to the end.  They were well
into the afternoon and the sun was scorching the desert.  She drank some
water and applied some sunscreen.  She stood facing Hawk, staring directly
at him as she applied sunscreen to her buttocks and breasts.  She took him
time and he saw her nipples harden.  She squeezed more lotion into her hand
and began to rub it between her legs.  After a moment she sat down with her
legs spread and masturbated openly.  After a minute he motioned with the
shotgun and told her to get back to work.

   She smiled and continued working her fingers between her legs.  "What
are you going to do, kill me?"

   He stared at her impassively as she continued to masturbate.  Her eyes
lost focus and she began to moan.  Her left hand moved up to her breasts
and she squeezed one and then the other.  She pinched her nipples and
pulled them.  Her breathing grew heavier, a little ragged, and she rubbed
harder, her motions almost frantic.  He saw her pinch her clit and her back
arched as she came.  "Oh my GGGODDDD!" She slumped forward, her head
drooping, and hugged herself as her body shivered in the aftermath of what
had to be a very intense orgasm.

   She remained motionless for a good two minutes.  Then she got up, picked
up the shovel, and continued digging.  Hawk stopped her thirty minutes
later.  The hole was just over three feet deep.  She climbed out and took a
long drink of water.  "Take everything off."

   She stared at him for a moment and then she removed the gloves and
tossed them aside.  She sat down on the mound of dirt and removed the
workboots and socks.  Then she stood up and redid her ponytail.  Finally,
she glanced at Hawk and, in a quiet voice, asked him not to use the
shotgun. "I don't want to be mutilated."

   Then, as Hawk watched silently, she turned and got down on her knees at
the foot of the grave.  As he approached she reach up and held her ponytail
to one side, bowing her head to present the back of her head for the fatal
shot.  Hawk held the muzzle of the automatic an inch from her neck and
listened as she prayed quietly.  When she was done she took a deep breath
and said, "I'm ready.  You can kill me now."

   She heard a click, followed by the sound of the slide ejecting a spent
cartridge, and saw a puff of dust from the ground at the head of the grave.
She realized two things immediately - he'd screwed a silencer onto the
automatic and he'd missed the first shot.  How could he miss at that range?
She heard another click and saw another puff of dust from the same spot. 
Then she felt his foot against her back, between her shoulder blades.  He
shoved and she tumble forward into the grave.  She scrambled to turn over
on her back.  Hawk stood there staring down at her in silence for a long
moment.  Then he picked up the shovel and for a few terrifying moments she
thought he intended to bury her alive.  But after tossing two small loads
of dirt down onto her legs he tossed the shovel aside.  "Don't move for at
least ten minutes." Then he was gone!

   She waited for five minutes before climbing out of the grave.  Her bags
lay where she'd left them.  Nearby were two bottles of water and the 9mm
automatic.  The silencer was gone.  She opened her bag and took out a hand
towel.  After soaking it with water she sponged off the worst of the dirt.
Despite the sun block she had a painful sunburn so she dressed carefully
nothing with straps, nothing that would chafe.  In the end she put on the
oversized t-shirt she carried for emergency sleepovers, her panties, socks,
and a pair of Nike cross trainers.  The tshirt came below mid thigh and
covered more than some of her skirts.

   She left her backpack and sports bag where they were.  She knew the
police would collect them later.  When she left she carried just one bottle
of water and the 9mm automatic.  She followed Hawk's tracks back to the
dirt road and hiked out to the highway, reaching it just after 6:00 p.m. 
She hitched a ride with a trucker who dropped her off at the emergency room
of the nearest hospital.

   She was sitting on an examination table, wearing one of those awful
hospital gowns, when the first cops arrived.  They were uniformed sheriff's
deputies - an older man wearing sergeant's stripes and a young woman with
short black hair and olive skin.  Within minutes a dozen other cops had
crowded into the room.  Most seemed interested in nothing more than staring
at her legs.  Mollie resorted to a time-honored tradition - she cried,
remembering her mother's death in an automobile accident in order to make
the tears flow.  Within moments the head nurse had cleared the room.

   Mollies tears stopped immediately.  "Thanks.  Can you bring that woman
cop back?  The young one with the black hair.  I'll talk to her and nobody
else."

   The nurse smiled and shook her head.  "You're a cool one.  Be right
back."

   She returned a moment later with the young officer.  "I'm Jenny
Sandoval. I understand you're willing to talk to me?"

   Mollie nodded.  "Yes.  You and only you.  The rest of them just want to
look." She paused and swept her gaze over Jenny.  "Navaho?"

   Jenny shook her head.  "No, Huron.  My father was half-Spanish.  I'm
from New York originally." Mollie's frank appraisal had startled her and
she was a little uncertain.  She wondered if she'd been mistaken, if the
girl was just upset.  Mollie's removed any doubts with her next statement.

   "You're very pretty.  Are you seeing anyone?"

   Jenny shook her head, smiling.  "Jeez, girl.  You're pretty direct! 
We're supposed to be talking about what happened to you." She paused and
glanced at the nurse who tried to appear busy.  "And no, I'm not seeing
anyone."

   Mollie's smile lit up the room.  "Good.  Now here's what happened." And
while Jenny busied herself scribbling notes, Mollie recounted everything
that had happened.  She finished by adding her suspicions about her father.
Her account included a good description of her kidnapper.  Jenny went to
the door and spoke to her partner who ran to get the description out on the
air.

   Mollie's stepfather arrived a few minutes later.  He did his best to
appear elated at Mollie's escape but she knew him well enough to know that
he was deeply shocked to see her alive.  He was clearly dismayed when she
informed him she'd be staying overnight at the hospital.  "But darling,
wouldn't you be happier at home in your own bed."

   Mollie smiled sweetly.  "Of course, but the doctor insists that I stay
overnight."

   Her stepfather turned to Jenny.  "Will she be guarded?  He might come
back."

   Jenny did her best hick-cop imitation.  "Nah, he's long gone.  We'll
have someone look in on her once a shift.  That should be enough."

   He did his best to appear doubtful but, inwardly, he was elated.  "Well,
if you're sure ....." The bitch would die tonight and the money would be
his!

   Mollie appeared to be asleep when he slipped into her room at 3:00 a.m.
He was just raising his pistol when the lights came on and cops flooded
into the room.  Mollie sat up in bed, smiled, and said, "Gee, daddy.  Looks
like you're busted!"

   After her stepfather was taken away Mollie clung to Jenny and cried her
eyes out.  Jenny held her while she cried, acutely aware that the skimpy
hospital gown concealed little of Mollie's lithe young body.  After Mollie
stopped crying Jenny stepped back and breathed a sigh of relief.  Mollie
appeared to drift off to sleep and Jenny sat down in the chair provided by
the hospital.  A moment later Mollie's eyes opened briefly.  "I bet the
nurse $20 that I could seduce you by the end of the week." She closed her
eyes and left Jenny staring in disbelief.

   Mollie won her bet.  She was accepted at Harvard and graduated first in
her class.  In August she left for Boston.  In September, Jenny Sandoval
transferred to the Boston Police department.

   The End.



   <2nd attachment end>

   <3rd attachment, "kirbyh.txt" begin>

   The Board Meeting by Laura Lynn Davis MMMMM/F/F Bnd, Rape Copyright
2001, all rights reserved

   Jessica dressed carefully because the ten a.m.  board meeting was very
important.  Her control of the family empire, Kirby House, would be decided
at the meeting.  At thirty-one, Jessica was the most dynamic chairman in
Kirby House history and the most controversial.  While she'd turned Kirby
House into a multi-billion dollar enterprise she'd also done away with some
of the family's most cherished traditions.  Since Kirby House stock was
entirely in the hands of the Kirby family, the bottom line often wasn't the
major concern, unlike publicly held corporations.

   Jessica Kirby, at thirty-one, was a strikingly handsome woman.  Her
features were too bold, her coloring too vivid to be called beautiful.  She
stood 5' 11" barefoot and weighed 141 pounds.  Her hair was as black as a
Raven's wing and her perfect skin was a deep Mediterranean olive, courtesy
of her Italian grandmother.  Her figure was superb - broad shoulders, full
firm breasts, a surprisingly small waist, trim hips, a firmly rounded butt,
and long, long legs, beautiful legs, world-class legs.  But it was her eyes
that everyone noticed first - big brown eyes that glowed with a fierce
intelligence.

   Jessica arrived at the boardroom well in advance to make sure that
everything was ready.  She was wearing a new Armani suit with a short skirt
that showed off her legs to perfection.  She was surprised to find the
board already assembled when she entered the building.  Her young brother,
Phillip, was sitting in the chair at the head of the table.  He smiled as
she walked into the room.  "Sorry, Jess, we met a few minutes early and
we've already voted.  You're out and I'm in.  If you want to retain your
seat on the board, and your life, you'll do as your told."

   She glanced around the room and saw that she had no supporters among the
members of the board - all family members - three cousins, two uncles, and
two brothers.  Six males, one female, and they were all against her.  Her
older brother, James, refused to even look her in the eye.  She nodded at
Phillip and made her way to the far end of the table.  "What do I have to
do to keep my seat on the board?" She didn't say anything about the other
threat.

   He smiled.  "I'm glad you're going to be sensible about this.  Come up
here to the head of the table."

   She rose and walked the length of the table, fully aware that every eye
was on her.  When she reached the head of the table Phillip pushed his
chair back and stood up.  "Move in her and bend over the table, take your
weight on your elbows."

   "What are you going to do?" Her voice trembled slightly and she cursed
silently.

   "I'm going to fuck you.  We're all going to fuck you.  And from now on
you'll be available whenever and wherever any of us wants you.  You'll be
our fuck slut.  Of course, you'll have an official title and you'll be
nicely compensated but basically you'll be our whore.  Any objections?"

   She glanced back over her shoulder.  He could see the tears in her eyes
and the sight filled him with joy.  Jessica had fucked them over often
enough in the past.

   Now it was her turn to be on the receiving end.  "You can die.  I know
all about your fantasy.  You can go into the next room and take your
clothes off and hang yourself.  The noose is all prepared.  We'll all
testify how distraught you were when you were voted out as chairman."

   She regarded him calmly.  "Will you watch me die?"

   He nodded.  "Gladly."

   She shook her head.  "Not today.  Maybe tomorrow, but not today." She
turned and looked down the length of the table.  She felt a tug on her
skirt and then the sound of cloth being cut.  Phillip slit her skirt up the
back with his knife and spread it wide.  He cut her pantyhose away, then
her panties and finally he stepped back and stared at the furrowed pouch
between her legs.  He was smiling as he unzipped his pants and freed his
cock.  He'd been wanting to fuck the arrogant bitch since they were
teenagers.  Jessica stared straight ahead while he raped her.  A single
tear escaped and ran down her cheek.

   It was rape, even though she made no effort to resist.  One by one the
rest of the board, brother, cousins, and uncles took their turns raping
her. Cum oozed out of her abused cunt, running down her thighs.  Tears ran
down her cheeks, dropping on the polished Mahogany table.  Finally, only
her cousin Katie remained.  Katie contented herself with spitting in
Jessica's face.  The weeping Jessica was escorted to the chairman's private
bathroom where she was left huddled in the shower stall.

   Jessica was subsequently given a small office next to Phillip's where
she handled routine paper work.  She was available to the board and it was
a rare day when one or another of them didn't stop by to fuck her.  She
plotted and schemed but she was never able to regain control of the company
and within a year she'd disappeared for good.  Phillip hired private
detectives to find her.  A month later they reported that she was working
as a nude dancer in a small club in Reno.

   The End.





   <3rd attachment end>

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