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Subject: {ASSM} RP: Survivor 1/3 MF FF Mf Rape
Date: Fri, 6 Sep 2002 19:10:04 -0400
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The usual disclaimers apply. Reposted in three parts
of about 80KB each.
Elmo
<1st attachment, "x.1" begin>
Survivor Part 1 of 3
A graphic tale of betrayal, slavery, death and love.
Synopsis: An F.B.I. agent is raped, later kidnapped, and held in
slavery. Her twin daughters are kidnapped and held for sale by the very
same slave ring with ties to the F.B.I. These slavers specialize in female
law enforcement officers and kin of prominent government officials. The
execution of the slave after years of captivity, and the consummation of
the sale of her daughters are interrupted by an unlikely pair of rescuers;
a bald eagle, and a Shodan in karate. The tale takes place in upper
Michigan and near Eagle River, Wisconsin.
Characters:
Shannon McDonald, 43, independent socialite daughter, FBI agent, 5' 8"
strawberry blonde.
Cynthia McDonald, 15, twin daughter of Shannon, exact clone in
appearance, manner, and voice of her mother.
Samantha McDonald, 15, twin daughter of Shannon, exact clone in
appearance, manner, and voice of her mother.
William "Butt-hole Bill" Andrews, 47, FBI Special Agent in charge of the
Domestic Sex Crimes Unit. 6' 3".
William "Black and Blue Bill" Anderson, 50, Importer and Jet Set trader.
King maker.
Richard "Dry Dick" Anderson, 50, Jet Set trader. King maker. Twin of
William.
Jenny "Frizzy" Murphy, 45, Domestic partner of Shannon, guardian of the
twins, FBI agent.
Lisa Murphy, 23, California Highway Patrol Officer, 5' 6" platinum
blonde.
Tom Stafford, 25, California Highway Patrol Officer, 6' 6", Godan in
karate, fianc of Lisa.
Mark Stager, 48, best friend of Bill Andrews, Owner of Stager Grocery
Stores. Father of two sets of identical twin girls.
Mark Chandler, 44, FBI agent, former partner of Shannon. 5' 6"
David Lightfeather, 28, Michigan State Police Lieutenant, Sioux Indian.
Fred Jones, 40, FBI agent, Duluth office.
Toivo Nordstrom, 57, Chief of Police, Michigan State Police, Wakefield
office.
John Johnson, 55, Area Supervisor, Duluth office, FBI agent.
Elmo Sizorbil, 44, Computer Programmer, Shodan in karate, instructor,
father of 3 teens.
Story Codes: MF, Rape, Mf, FF, ff, anal, A2M, Slavery, bondage, and
torture.
At 26, Shannon McDonald had been out of the academy for some years now.
Assigned to the St. Louis office, she continued her interests in events
and causes linked to the Social Register. She also continued to have a
friendship with Jenny Murphy, a tall leggy blonde, with heavily waved hair,
and a deeper voice than expected. Shannon was partnered with Mark
Chandler, a specialist in organized crime. Mark knew that there was
something extra-curricular between Jenny and Shannon, but being a
professional, he didn't ask about it. Their current case load included a
spate of young teen kidnappings, bank robberies, and extortion rackets.
There was not much time left in the day for office chit-chat. Certainly
none for an arrogant, newly promoted, God's gift to the office stud pool,
agent Bill Andrews.
Bill wanted to sample Shannon's assets. Her ass really came foremost to
mind when thinking of Shannon. Small breasted, a tight, high, table-grade,
write home to Dad, quality butt. The long strawberry red hair (more berry,
less straw) flashed and caught the light like no other women in the office.
Forceful and unrelenting, Bill lusted after Shannon. He never noticed, or
even bothered to look for, anyone else in Shannon's life. This was a
conquest he was going to have, one way or another. He outweighed her by
125 pounds. He was much taller, and had 8 solid inches to match his frame.
"All the better to stick you with, my little pretty!" he thought each
time he saw her. "Once in the cunt, once in the ass, then in the mouth,
that is what stuck up Bitches should get every day. Women were put on the
earth to serve men, have children, and be dominated." Bill had an attitude,
and he usually got his way. By force when he needed to.
His diary entries, a religiously kept obsession, became more detailed
over time. The whores he obtained on Washington street, and shared with
Mark Stager, quickly realized they were in for a beating if they did tricks
for him. Beaten by your pimp or beaten by your John. Have a nice day,
Girls. If the pimp did not want to provide for Bill, it was the pimp's
turn to get a beating, a trip to the room with a view, or whatever was on
tap that week.
Always the brown noser, Bill could "talk the talk" to the higher ups in
the bureau He could also "walk the walk" by manufacturing pinches when he
needed them. Of course the rival pimps, and underworld types were quite
ready to provide what Bill needed. It was through these mutual admiration
contacts that Bill met the Anderson brothers. Both Bill and Dick liked the
rough end of the sexual spectrum. It was a penchant that would be quite
profitable in the years to come.
Mark was getting married, so Bill wanted to provide a wedding present
that would be as fine as possible. Bill was ready to finally teach Shannon
about saying "No!" to him. She was going to a late night function. He was
on stakeout duty, there were witnesses if needed. Shannon never made it to
her car. The well dressed thugs overpowered her, and had her well out of
sight before the next debutant exited the gala. When she regained her
senses, Shannon was strapped down tightly to a rough wooden structure. Ass
high in the air, head tilted to provide throat access. Duct tape on the
eyes, headphones on the ears blaring KXOK, Mason Lee Dixon spinning the
discs. A canvas bag covered her head on top of that. She was not going to
identify these creeps. A penis gag was strapped to her face.
"This is a fine one Bill. You said she really likes it rough? I'd like
to see what she can take." Mark sneered as he ran his hands over the prize.
"She costs quite a bit. Her pimp lent her to us for the night. I had
an addition done just for the event tonight, Mark." Bill proudly declared.
"An addition? What kind of addition? A new toy for entertaining the
ladies, maybe?" Mark was curious. Bill had a habit of finding new
appliances to employ on the girls they shared.
"It is just a tattoo on Rover. One line for every inch, just to measure
the progress of getting it down Pat!" Bill said, swelling with pride and
lust. "I got it just for this one here."
"Which end are you going to break it in on tonight, Bill?" asked Mark.
"All three of them Mark!" Bill's grin lasted longer than usual.
Whack! The birch switch landed on Shannon's upturned butt. The ripple
of pain spread across her body. Pop! The drilled ping-pong paddle
connected with her dangling tits. Smash, whack, yank, pull, twist. The
two abused the woman for an hour before they got down to serious business.
"You will like old rover, Bitch! I've even had him monogrammed just for
you!" Bill barked at his captive. He lined up on the suffering woman's
tail end and doing a Dick Anderson, thrust his cock in dry. The scream was
audible even through the gag. "Wow, 8 inches on the dip stick. Take that
Bitch!" Bill hit her exposed right cheek with the paddle. She bucked again
with pain then sagged and lay still.
"I'll just make use of the jaw block and service this one's mouth while
you entertain her butt hole, Bill. Say, this is a nice one here. I can
feel the constriction behind her tongue." Mark said while holding his
victim behind her head. Forcing his cock as deep as it would go he could
feel the gag reflex in operation. "Nope, not for you, Bitch. You keep
what you swallow." Mark said jamming his cock in again. "Hey, let's trade
Bill." Mark looked at Bill with a leer.
"Sure, see how she likes her own shit fed back to her." Bill said, being
greatly amused at the thought of Shannon eating the shit she had fed him
for so long. Brown smeared his dick, covering the depth lines he had
etched on Rover. Bill rammed his pole into the limp form of Shannon's
head. "Over the lips, past the gums, lookout stomach, here it comes!" Bill
roared.
"Ah, pussy galore. Thanks for this present Bill. I'm quite sure my
prim and proper wife to be would not go for this kind of action. The shit
chute shuffle! Squeal like a pig, Bitch!" Mark bellowed as he shot his wad
way up inside the helpless woman. He had no idea how accurate that shot
was. Shannon was directly between periods.
After many hours and many cums, they untied Shannon and were readying
her for the trip back to her car. Regaining consciousness for an instant,
Shannon raked her nails down Mark's forearm leaving a bad cut, and later a
scar. For her efforts, Shannon received 20 more blows from the big green
weenie, a four foot section of garden hose. The well dressed thugs
deposited her back in her car, minus her underwear and bra. Life for
Shannon had changed forever. One of the many shots she took that night had
hit the spot. She found out she was pregnant just after leaving the
hospital. Frizzy saw an opportunity to play Dad. Shannon saw only ruin
and despair. The burly local officer, Sergeant Martin, named the rapists
the Holder, and the Poker. The holder likely had damage to one or both
arms from the scratch Shannon had inflicted. Bill wisely did not jump in
to investigate the rape, but marveled at how subdued Shannon was once she
returned to the office.
"I'll have that one again. One day she will be my private plaything."
Bill mused as Shannon's belly began to swell.
If there was ever any hope of Shannon getting a boy friend, it died with
the rape. Frizzy did her best to manipulate and direct Shannon into
keeping the children, by now known to be twin girls. She moved into the
house on Portland Drive as a "Nanny" for the two infants. It was a simple
procedure for Shannon to tie her tubes after the delivery. No more
accidents later in life, please. Shannon was committed to raising the
girls as if they were not the product of a rape. Mary Institute it would
be when they were old enough as money was not an issue with Shannon. The
girls were cute and strawberry blonde too. Much like her mother was when
she was small.
Bill's diary entries for these events were not silent. He indicated a
desire to have the twins too. Certainly, he was their father; it just
couldn't be any other way. He had a vasectomy when he took his next
vacation. "No need to be getting the stock into an un-sellable condition."
He muttered to himself. He had an idea for a business, with the backing of
the Anderson's and some remote property in Wisconsin. Bill's prowess at
the bureau were rewarded with a group all his own, the Sex Crimes Unit. He
picked each and every member of his team by hand. Eventually there would
be twenty agents assigned to it.
Mark Stager's first set of twins arrived two years after his marriage.
They were little copies of his trophy wife. His business prospered, and
after a time, he could not take leave of his work to participate with Bill
in his fetishes. Another set of twins arrived looking strangely like the
first set. Clones of their mother the grandparents cooed. Mary-I had seen
its share of twins, but three sets over four grades were something to talk
about in the staff room. Larry Logan, head of the math department and
computer teacher set about figuring the probability of such an event taking
place. A larger probability of that, than one of his former students (one
Elmo Sizorbil) figuring into their later lives.
Elmo was a standout at the nearby Country Day School. Not for good
grades either. If there was mischief being made, Elmo was at least nearby,
if not in the thick of it. "A's" in the classes he liked. "F's" in those
he saw no use for, like history. Since high school, Elmo had majored in
applied mathematics, obtained a doctoral degree in computer science, and
discovered the joys of a regular beating in Chinese Kenpo. Elmo had
dabbled in Tae Kwon Do and Judo as well. He found that Tae Kwon Do was for
linear thinkers with a head hunting complex. Excellent physical shape,
rigid discipline, lots of show and flash. A good TKD is not to be messed
with, not by most people at any rate. Kenpo on the other hand, is strictly
utilitarian. Get the job done now, and worry about the mess later. Self
defense was the core of the training at the local Kenpo dojo. Single or
multiple attackers, weapons or size, there is a quick answer. "It is best
not to engage in a fight at all, if you can avoid it. But if you must,
then be sure you are the one to walk calmly away." is a core Kenpo
philosophy. So is "If you cut my hand off, I now have a jagged bone to
stick you with!" Never give up, ever.
If you give up on your black belt test, for the rank of Shodan, you
lose. That test is not even close to fair. Three to eight black belts
fighting you after two hours of kata and techniques. If you are still able
to stand, you deserve a black belt. More nationally ranked champions have
come from that studio than any other, in any style. Elmo started when it
was bare knuckles, and no wimpy protective gear. These days the attorneys
and insurance agents require combat participants to have full gear, hands,
feet, head, cup, mouth piece, and elbow pads. Somewhat more relaxed today,
it still speaks well of someone who gets a Shodan or better from that
studio. Don't piss off a black belt, they can hurt you. Don't piss off an
instructor, they make black belts. Don't even consider trying to
intimidate a black belt regardless of the style. You will not like the
outcome. Elmo had his first black belt from the TKD dojo he studied at.
The black belt he wore came many years later in Kenpo.
Elmo liked being in the woods, especially the north woods. Stars,
storms, trees and critters were all part of the big picture. The only
things in the woods that could hurt you were Vespids. Poison Ivy really
did not grow that far north. An Eden in Gogebic County was what he thought
of the north woods. As the roofing gang said between bongs, it is another
reality altogether. Between the six-hoot owls, the osprey and the lake
resident eagles, there was always something to watch and enjoy. When Elmo
inherited the cabin and lake property, he set out to build new structures
so that his children could enjoy the place with their families (whenever
that would be). Wood sheds, tool shed, water system, and a large bunk
house down by the waterside, there was room for 12 without temporary
bunking. Being built into the side of a glacial scar, the camp was
protected from all the bad storms out of the west. The woods were easy to
navigate in. To the east was the lake. To the west were a swamp, and some
section line forest service roads. A seasoned traveler could move quickly
and quietly over the game trails, being able to disappear like the fauna.
Elmo cruised on autopilot through three children, two cats, and a
born-again-Bitch of a wife who would rather Bitch the stripes off the
street than render hugs and kisses. "Enough is enough. I am the only one
trying to be loving in this marriage. I will not take it anymore!" he
declared reluctantly, and started planning his divorce.
Shannon had night duty on the surveillance crew, watching a Don by the
name of Vittale. As she was leaving the office for her assigned trail,
Bill Andrews handed her a thermos of coffee. "Here, this should help some,
Shannon." Bill smiled as he handed it to her. Yeah, it will help me much
more than you, with all that Ketamine in it, you'll be out like a light in
no time. When the other suits saw her go lights out, they replaced her
with a used up model from Bill's private dungeon, and put enough plastic
explosives under her car seat to make the 1970's Lucier bombing in Clayton
look like an M80. The car and its occupant were atomized. The surrounding
buildings were greatly damaged though none collapsed. The word got out
that an agent was killed working on the Vittale case. Mr. Vittale went
into hiding. The whole office was devastated. Bill had to file the
reports. Mark Chandler became suspicious of Bill, and his instant
production of evidence. Where were the hard parts, like Shannon's 9mm
browning? If the rear view mirror was identifiable, where was the gun?
For his efforts, he was railroaded to Minnesota and an office looking after
drunken Indians. Bill had his personal plaything that he vowed to have at
any cost. Sam and Cindy had a terrible summer break, and the butch woman
filled the role of home educator with glee. Orphaned just before age
thirteen, the twins had to deal with the loss of mom, their first periods,
and all the issues of adolescence. Bill watched them grow up and out,
biding his time
Shannon awoke to find herself in a cold, dark cell. She had a dog cage
for a bed and some new jewelry on her neck and wrists. So began three
years of beatings, butt fucks, bruises and performances on camera.
Whatever her tormentor wished, she did. After two years she was taken out
into the woods, in the snow naked, to watch another used up slave get the
blue butt plug of death. The howling and agony and stench were brief. The
impression was never ending. There never was a schedule for Shannon. It
was eat shit covered dick, eat sloppy pussy, and get a beating, freeze.
Get stuffed into a trunk and driven for hours. Then get beaten and
sodomized again. The other women she had contact with changed every few
months. Six months was about the longest any of them had been around her.
Some were there only long enough for her to perform with their immobilized
bodies while the visiting dicks picked up their consignments. Mexico,
South America, Middle East, India, Bill delighted in telling Shannon where
the helpless stock was destined for. Sometimes it was just the Iron County
mine #6. The mine shaft dropped sixteen feet to 42 degree water. The
water dropped over 600 feet from the surface to the floor, not all the
girls were dead before they hit the water.
The young ones hurt Shannon the most. Pre-teens and proud 8th or 9th
graders just gave Shannon the shivers. She thought about her twins, and a
rescue by Frizzy. But Frizzy was glad she was dead, and only one person
had even asked about looking for her. He was now only several hundred
miles away, but light years from the truth. Baradur, the dark tower, the
guests called the multiple underground playpens. The Anderson brothers had
money to spend, and hide. Most of it cash, some of it laundered through
their import export business. Fully computerized, net connected, any cell
or prisoner could be toyed with remotely. Sales pitches could show the
actual merchandise being pedaled. No keys, no sounds, no hope of escaping
through the concrete into a Wisconsin swamp.
Bill began taunting Shannon about the twins when they turned 14. At
fifteen, he was ready to make them personal pets too. They disappeared on
a trip to the Galleria. No trace of them even on the mall video tapes.
Jenny would have to find someone else to play daddy for. The twins were
treated much better than the norm for the Sex Crimes Unit's guests. At
least at the start that is. One day Bill began to wonder about the
multiple identical twins at Mary-I, now MICDS. He had a paternity test
performed by a pliable local lab. These two were clearly NOT his. He said
nothing to Mark, but looked for a buyer. Someone out of the country who
would pay dearly for such prime beef. Mark took an interest in Karate
after a threatening phone call; he was a public figure, after all. He
signed up at World Class Martial Arts, a storefront TKD belt mill. The
head instructor, Master Po, liked to sign up stupid people to long
contracts, and then run them out of the studio. He enforced their
contracts to the letter, months and years afterwards. Master Po was
despised by the others in the Korean community. His black belts could beat
up a newbie, but not a wet paper bag.
Bang! The gavel slammed on its block. Divorce granted. Elmo got his
car, his house, the two oldest children, and a large alimony to pay.
Fortunately, his early work in software development at the large university
had been sold to a specialist concerned that his own software would not
compete with that from the university. The contract had some large royalty
payments to go with it. Elmo finished his usual Wednesday sparring group
class, and headed north to take a break from the rat race. A week of green
trees and quiet puttering loomed before Elmo. Arriving Friday evening at
the cabin, Elmo had to deal with the hornets, the mice, a years worth of
absence and not one boat out on the lake. Soon there would be his boat,
and then a night of bliss and national forest noises. Getting up with the
sun at around 0500, Elmo set to work on the paths and finishing unpacking.
For a break, he went for a spin around the small lake his property fronted
on. Some years back, the local baron had sold off his property on the
other side of the lake. A developer had turned the lots quickly. There
were houses where he used to shoot 400 yard shots at communist lawn mowers.
One of those new residents seemed to be up. A red Dodge Ram truck was
being unloaded not far from the waters edge. The eagle was circling way
high up over the site. One of the grunts unloading brown packages noticed
Elmo driving the boat towards them. He flashed the silenced MAC-10 as he
moved it to a close and ready position. Elmo lazily turned and continued
around the lake. Just another day in the neighborhood...
"That didn't look right. A suit and two goons stockpiling heavy
packages into a concrete bunker. Well, if they want to cause trouble, I've
got some ammunition now." Elmo thought to himself as he docked the boat and
went back up the hill to work on the woodpile. Tightly focused on his
work, Elmo shut out the noises of the woods around him. Axes and machetes
do not care who's leg they run into, just like bullets. When one is in
use, nothing else gets in the way.
"Screeeeee! Screeeeee! AheeeeeeeeeeeeEE!" The eagle screamed.
"Something has pissed that eagle off. That is not even close to normal.
I wonder what is up?" Elmo thought to himself.
"Screeeeeee!" The eagle dive bombed below the trees into the clearing
just below the woodshed where Elmo was stacking stove wood. "Screeeee!
Screeeeeeeeeeeee!" The eagle recovered west each time and circled back.
"What the fuck is wrong with my eagle!" Elmo wondered aloud. "Time to
find out."
The Eagle's eerie was south of the cabin. This bird was heading west.
Strapping on the Browning .380, loading the 8mm Sony digital with a new
cassette, stepping into his soft boots and off up the hill heading for the
section line road Elmo was on safari.
"Screeeee Aheeeeeeee!" Another dive bomb run by the eagle.
"That eagle is seriously out of character. Is this bird is calling me
west...? What is to the west? Swamp?" Elmo was thinking hard why this was
happening. The twilight zone coming to Gogebic County... Crossing the
property line, follow the logging road to the section line.
"AAARHGHAAAA!" A woman's scream shattered the otherwise calm woods
noises.
"That was no eagle. That was female and in pain. Good, the camera is
still rolling. The .380 came out and the safety was off. Low, slow and
carefully Elmo moved down the section line. "200 more yards to the bushes
at the swamp's edge. Wait! Color in the clearing beyond." Elmo was
attacked by piloerection. His whole body bristled, ready to fight.
Crack! "AAAAHHHHH!!!!!" The woman screamed again.
"3... no, 4 men, one girl, she looks about 14 or 15. She's tied over a
large log and being beaten with a length of hose. Shit, the suit is poking
her. The other suit is watching. Those two other thugs look familiar the
other side of the lake!" Elmo was thinking hard. The suit with the dropped
trousers was banging and beating the girl.
"Well, Bitch! You always liked a good butt fucking! All 8 inches up
the shit chute for you. When I'm done this time you'll get some relief.
The blue butt plug special. 18 Mohler nitric does such a good job of
cleaning out well used asses. I've really enjoyed you for these last few
years, Shannon. After I had you 17 years ago I knew I'd be having you a
lot one day." Bill was calm and methodical as he spoke. Poke, whack!
WHACK! "Ah, so deep, so soft and yet still firm. Your twins have not had
as much practice as you, but they do have some talent. Training will make
up for it I'm sure. Little clones of you too. They don't like it up the
ass as you do. Oh, I feel that Shannon. They are on their way this
afternoon to join a harem in Jordan. A nice long boat ride out of the
Charles River in Boston. Abu Sayeef is driving here right now in his long
custom grey limo. Interesting back seat; it folds down under power from a
switch in the ashtray. I'm going to trade the twins for a 12 years old
filly and $250,000 apiece. The girl was plucked from a Minnesota mall
yesterday. That will give Senator Snort something to worry about besides
me for a while!" Bill continued in a calm voice. "A cute little blonde
number! The young ones are much more pliable."
"Larry! Get ready to go. We have a two o'clock on the other side of
the lake from here." Bill turned back to Shannon's predicament. "Abu has
lots of passports, one of them is red. If you can get up Shannon, I'll let
you go. You or your friends can take anything they can carry with them.
What's wrong Shannon? You want to suck me clean first? I know you'll do a
good job too!" Bill was losing the cool tone of voice.
"Shit, four on one. MAC-10's with suppressors!" Elmo was not sure a
frontal assault was the best course of action.
"Screeeeeeeeeeeee!" The eagle dropped low and screamed.
"Somebody nuke that stupid bird!" Bill was clearly annoyed.
"Okay, too many for the .380. I'll take the two behind the truck hand
to hand. Shit! Same red truck. Park the Sony to have a clear view. If I
don't make it, maybe someone will find this and get a clue." Elmo went into
battle mode. No outside interference allowed.
"The two thugs in the jeans first. This girl? Woman? Isn't going to
last long. He's got the blue plug out!" Elmo watched.
Elmo moved ever so quickly and quietly just like a woodland native.
Appearing from behind a blue spruce, Larry was startled and backed into the
truck. The web hand to the throat made sure there would be no screaming.
The only noise was the crunch of the top two vertebras becoming
discontinuous. "Larry, you don't pay much attention, do you?" Elmo was
already advancing on the other thug, who was pissing into the swamp. He
went down with an elbow smash to the back of the head. The stomp was the
same as for Larry.
"Okay, it might be .380 time now" Elmo continued to analyze the
situation. Where had the other suit gone? It is not good to lose track of
a hostile in the heat of combat!
"Screeeeeeeeeeeee!" The eagle dropped low and screamed yet again.
"Hey, Bill! It's Showtime here. Okay, Shannon, take my love deeply.
How's that feel? Bitch!" Andrews was getting excited. Whack! The garden
hose slammed again across her back. "This blue baby has 50 CC's of high
grade nitric acid in the enclosed glass ampoule. I crush the ampoule
inside and shove it hard in your ass. Thirty seconds later, it's fireworks
time. Yeah, this time it is for real, Shannon. No more trial runs,
Bitch!" Bill always did like the thrill of the kill.
"Bill, make sure there is a good picture on the laptop. I just love to
watch these moments over and over again." Bill was grinning again.
"Perfect, two Bills, one intent on the PC, the other intent on murder.
He's watching the screen, time to go." Elmo performed a colored belt
technique, "Turning the Key" on Bill Anderson. Twist the shoulders, stomp
the back of the knee, head smash with the near elbow.
Crunch! "Hmmmmmk!" Shannon's breath left her. The butt plug was wedged
seven inches into her rectum, leaving a small blue lip visible.
"Here you go Shannon. Nice and tight! Time to watch the show. See you
later BITCH!" Bill's excitement was at apogee.
"God, no time now!" Elmo thought as he launched into a diving head smash
and sweep combination. A quick sidekick to the head kept Butt Hole Bill
down, but not quite out. Bill was still a big man. It takes a lot to hurt
a human, more than many people would think.
Grabbing the end of the plug, Elmo wrenched it from Shannon's terribly
abused rectum. "Damned, it is starting to smoke. Well, one good place for
this thing... Into your mouth, you servant of Sauron. Suck on that!" Elmo
thrust the smoking plug into Bill's gasping mouth and wedged it in his
teeth. He then stepped back out of range of any spray or counter attack.
"Huck Huuuu!" Bill grunted as the acid released, and traveled by gravity
and air pressure down into his throat and lungs. Tissue literally vanished
along the way. Eyes bulging with disbelief, Bill coughed once. The spray
was red and smoky.
"Yikes, that reeks. Flop Flop, Fizz Fizz. Gag, what a mess he is!"
Elmo had seen a few gruesome scenes before, but live and in person was
something new to him. "That's all four down now. How is the woman? Butt
hole still gaping open. No fumes, no blood; She still has a pulse. You
can't cut it closer than that!" Elmo though aloud as his Red Cross training
was running the show.
"Iron collar, iron wrist bracelets! Man, these guys were totally
serious about domination. Keys, where are the keys to this chain and
lock?" Elmo was going much slower now that the immediate threat had been
dispatched. He could relax a small bit.
"Screeeeaaaaaaaaa" The eagle circled above watching intently.
"Okay, its okay! She is still alive, I am just in time. Thank you for
bringing me here. I'll try to do something for you while I'm still up
north." Elmo was talking to the bird as if it understood him. The bird
dipped low, and then went off south.
"Nice looking woman. Grade A ass, table grade in fact. However, she is
totally out of the current tactical situation. No keys on Butt Hole Bill.
I hope she doesn't have any diseases." Elmo continued to think out loud.
Checking the PC, it was an IBM Stink Pad. "Windoze 2K, Better create an
account before shutting this down. Yes, it has admin privs, good! Huh?
Shutdown and Arm Safety? I don't think so. Arm what? Bears?"
"Okay Butt Hole, who were you?" Elmo started searching for the things he
needed. "No ID in the dropped trousers. Wait, here it is in his jacket.
SHIT! This was an FBI agent! William Andrews, Special Agent in charge,
Domestic Sex Crimes Unit. St. Louis office." Elmo was worried; it's not
nice to mess with law enforcement. A few too many episodes of "Cops" on
Saturday nights. "Well, Bill, I guess you were in charge of committing sex
crimes." Elmo didn't find any keys, so he moved to the other suit and
frisked the corpse. "William Anderson, Land-O-Lakes address, and a pair of
key rings. Excellent!" Elmo was feeling better with the keys in hand.
Elmo kept the key rings.
Unlocking Shannon, he covered her with the other Bill's coat, and set
her in a slightly head down, right hand side up position, prone on the
ground. Then he went to see about Larry and the Pisser.
"No ID's, Gee, I wonder why thugs don't carry ID on them? Hey, a cell
phone. Does it have service? You know it, it is an Iridium cell, a
Brick!" Elmo considered using it for a moment, then answered his own
question. "Stir the pot!" Elmo had a plan.
906-265-1047 "Michigan State Police, Officer Yates speaking, May I help
you?" The voice was nearly cheery.
"I'm calling to report the probable abduction of a pre-teen female.
There is a large grey limo with Massachusetts plates headed for Taylor Lake
in the southeast of your district. The occupant's destination is at the
east side of the lake, right at the one-two section line. The passenger is
one Abu Sayeef; he will have a number of different passports, one of which
might be red. The important thing is that there is a hidden compartment
behind the back seat. The control is stashed under an ashtray. I believe
there is a 12-year-old blonde girl there, a daughter of some Senator Snort.
If the girl is there, you might also want to contact someone in Boston, to
check on an ocean going yacht moored on the Charles River linked to the
Sayeef character.
"Do you have a route that this person is taking?" The officer pressed
for details.
"I would suspect US2 through Watersmeet, sir. The limo is coming from
Minnesota." Elmo recalled Bill's speech to Shannon.
"What is your name please?" Pressing for info, the officer went though
his usual questions list.
"Sizorbil, Elmo Sizorbil. I've borrowed this phone to make the report.
I have no other method of communications sir."
"How did you come about this information?" Ah, the loaded question from
the boys in blue.
"Confidential Informant. I'm not permitted to talk about him on an
insecure medium. I've got to go; things are getting a bit hot for my
liking here. I'll call back eventually." Elmo dodged the first hard
question.
"We have an interest in a young female fitting that description. We'll
check into it." The officer was non-committal.
"Bye!" Elmo hung up. More places to explore, he thought. The trunk of
the black Ford had some backpacks, rucksacks really. "Holy Shit Batman!
There are LOTS of dead presidents in this one. This one too!" He examined
the pair of olive drab packs. "What is this?" Elmo found a package with a
Caucasian toned coat in it. Kevlar, metal discs, Velcro seams. "This
comes with me. And these zip drives, and the packs. Time to vacate the
premises." Elmo began to feel the need for speed. It wouldn't be good to
get caught here at the current time, with all the booty he had on hand. He
retrieved the Sony camera and turned it off.
"I'm sorry, Shannon, but I'm going to have to fireman's carry you back
to my cabin. There is no other way my back will take the load. Ugh!! I'm
not in shape for this kind of labor!" Elmo spoke softly to Shannon. He
began to go over the things to do when he got back to camp. Metal cut-off
blade, Transite board, canvas coverall, bolt cutters...
As the pair was passing the tall bushes at the east end of the clearing,
Shannon spoke very softly "Ah, Lisa, that PBJ and lemonade."
"Hey, Shannon, can you hear me?" Elmo paused. "Nope. Who is Lisa? Are
there others being held by this bunch? WHOA! Look where you are going,
Elmo! That's a monster bald faced hornet's nest for this time of the
season." Elmo slid around the nest, not making eye contact with the guards
at the opening. Huffing and puffing, Elmo made it to his 16' by 16' deck
outside the tool shed, and carefully laid Shannon down.
"Let's have a look at the prize here!" Elmo had not had the time to ogle
the pretty woman in the forest. 5' 8", under one hundred pounds he
thought. Ugly red scars around the neck where the collar is. It must have
been there quite some time. Black and blue bruises, some in the green
stage. She's been beaten before too. Turning on the generator, and
placing Shannon on an old Coleman cooler, he set a pair of earmuffs on her
head. Then he began to saw the iron jewelry off the woman. Once that was
done, he carried her inside then examined and treated her cuts and other
wounds. H2O2 and Neosporin on the wounds. A set of hospital scrubs
(designer name NOT!) on her body, Elmo tucked her into his queen bed. It
was the only bed of four in the main cabin that was made. He then
proceeded to make a PBJ and a batch of lemonade, which he put in a sports
drink bottle. He set the pair to the side of the sleeping Shannon.
"Time to make a journal entry. Something I can show the judge later.
Date, time, pulse rate, general conditions, everything I've done so far.
That 8mm tape is going into hiding. What's this in this package? A 9mm
browning? Another ID? TRIPPLE SHIT! This woman is an FBI agent too.
Shannon McDonald, St. Louis office. What do I say to the cops now?" Elmo
was really worried at this turn of events.
"Cops... No time for what ifs right now. There are some twins back on
the other shore of the lake to deal with. They would certainly have an
escort, and the storm is getting closer. I can see the wind on the forest
floor. At least I have better equipment to deal with any jail keepers!"
Elmo smiled for the first time in an hour. Gathering the funny vest, one
of the MAC-10's and three life jackets, Elmo rev'ed up the 20-horse Jet
outboard and cruised over for a look.
"No cars, several sheds, one with a big American padlock behind some
screening." Killing the motor, Elmo coasted up to the shoreline and looked
again. The storm was much closer now; waves were growing on the small
lake. "This could get very messy!" Elmo thought to himself as he searched
the key ring for a matching key. "This is the one, barrel key, high
security." Elmo looked around again. Sliding the newly unlocked door to
the left all the way, Elmo found his targets. Butt plugs, penis gags,
chained to a padded bench, the twins had their upturned bottoms pointed at
the door. With still no sign of any guard, Elmo unlocked one, a 15 year
old, perfect body. She said nothing as the gag was removed, but eyed the
MAC-10. The other girl had a black eye, a real shiner. She glared hard at
Elmo but said nothing as well.
"You ladies are truly clones of you mother. Please come with me
quickly, the storm is upon us." Elmo said smoothly, as if he expected their
cooperation.
"Our mother is dead. What would you know about us and her?" The
black-eyed youngster hurled the works at Elmo with spite.
"I know you do not want to go to Jordan to be a breeding sow for some
inflated camel jockey." Elmo had no sooner spoken than KABOOM! Lightning
and thunder and hail pounded the shed. One bright flash showed a shadow
outside the doorway. Handing the non-speaking twin the MAC-10, Elmo spun
into a front cat stance. The twin's eyes went large as she went white with
fear.
"Who's in there?" A voice bellowed as the unfortunate thug walked into
the shed.
Cross grab, groin kick, left parry the gun into his mouth, and release
the hammer hold... BANG! A case of instant suicide for the thug. The
body collapsed straight down against the shed wall where the torso was
caught by a metal screw. The gun was still in his grip.
"I'll take that now, thank you." Elmo retrieved the gun from the twin,
who had backed away from the bloody scene. "Ladies, you have a choice; you
can come back to my cabin across the lake in this storm, or you can make
your way half a mile around the lake on foot to the right here, and find a
telephone on your own. Or you can wait here for Mr. Sand Camel to take
you off to oil land." Elmo did not sound threatening; he spoke from one
knee on the floor of the shed. His body language was intentional.
KABOOM! CRASH! The storm was in full swing on the lake now. The twins
visually conferred, then headed for the boat.
"Please put on the preserver, get in the bow, and stay low." Elmo still
didn't sound like he was giving orders to the girls. The 20-horse started
with a light pull and backed off the beach. No problems with the depth of
the water, jets take only 6 inches to move. The waves were topping 18",
and the tops were blowing off. Kiting and pounding the boat ran at 40
miles an hour across the lake. Not the brightest move in a thunderstorm, a
metal boat on a lake, but it was much better than hanging around. Cutting
the motor, Elmo slid the boat home at the pier and made the stern line fast
even in the hard blow.
"Get out and go inside the boathouse, please ladies." Elmo said as he
moved forward to grab the bow line. He cleated it securely as he had done
it many times before.
"Please?" The twins mouthed at each other as they entered the small
waterfront shack. Please was not a word they had heard in many months.
"Please hang your vests here, and we will exit the back door and move
100 feet up the hill to the right and into the main cabin." Elmo was calm
and unconcerned by the storm outside. Sore, soaked and naked, the girls
marched up the hill with Elmo right behind them. Even in the rain, it was
a sight Elmo liked quite a bit.
Once the trio was inside, Elmo latched the door, and stowed the MAC-10
on the shelf, in plain sight by the door. "My name is Elmo Sizorbil. You
two can call me Elmo." Elmo looked at the black-eyed girl.
"What is your first name, Miss McDonald, and who gave you the shiner?"
Elmo said softly.
"Samantha, and the guy you off'ed over there did this to me." Sammy was
still unsure what the drill was. She was sure that something had changed;
a new path was being taken in her odyssey. What this bearded older man was
planning remained a mystery.
"Well, Sammy, he is no great loss to the world, I expect. Your mother
is named Shannon, right?" Elmo slid into the question.
"Is? Who told you? What business is it of yours anyway?" The other
twin could talk!
"I've not asked your name yet, dear, but a completely despicable shit
ball called Butt Hole Bill spoke of you two, just before he ate an acid
filled butt plug, earlier this morning. What is your name, young lady?"
Elmo still was not the least perturbed by the outburst.
"Cynthia. Cynthia McDonald" The other twin had a name.
"Okay, Cindy, here is the deal. All the knives in this cabin are sharp.
The guns are all loaded, and some have one in the tube. Please do not play
with them unless I ask you to. Okay? You may do as you please here;
clothing is optional, though I can likely provide something for you to warm
up with. Which would you like to do first? Shower, eat, get dressed or
take a nap?" Elmo smiled at them.
"Who are you? What do you have to do with Butt Hole Bill?" Sammy took
charge of asking the questions.
"I became acquainted with Mr. Andrews about two hours ago, when I found
him in the forest west of here. He didn't get to know me very well, but I
saw enough to know I didn't like him or his comrades at all. As for whom I
am, I'm a father of three, the oldest is a young man of 15, and the other
two are girls of 13 and 11. I'm your friend as you may have gathered. I
will do everything I can to keep you the two of you safe and secure until a
higher authority relieves me. I am a first-degree black belt in Chinese
Kenpo Karate, a ranked instructor in self-defense. Here are some scrubs
and two tooth brushes for you after you have showered." Elmo sounded like a
father. The twins noticed that Elmo had planned ahead.
"Why did you say we are clones of our mother? Why did you use the verb
"Is" ?" Cindy asked this time.
"Because you are, identical down to the black eye, Sammy. We'll discuss
the verb tense more after you get clean and warm. I'll get some lunch
going now. There isn't a lot of water, so you should lather up with the
water turned off." Elmo smiled at them.
The pair, still naked and lightly shivering, stepped off to the bathroom
to clean up. Whatever discussion they had was drowned out by the wind
outside, Elmo was not listening anyway. This surely was a monster of a
storm. The idiots on the local rock-n-roll station, the Bear, had managed
to read the right forecast this time. The pair, shampooed and conditioned
(yes, a name brand this time), appeared together in the kitchen. They
moved closer to the wood stove, which crackled and popped with the maple
logs inside.
"You look much more presentable now, ladies. Will it be a PBJ or tuna
for lunch?" Elmo queried them.
"A PBJ, please." Cindy answered. Elmo wielded the knife and the spread.
The twins remained near the stove as they ate.
"When did you last see your mother?" Elmo broke the silence of eating.
"Over three years ago. She was killed on a stake out by a car bomb."
Cindy replied.
"When were you two last out in the real world?" Elmo continued
questioning them.
"Nearly nine months ago. We had just started school. Why do you ask?"
Sammy answered this time.
"I was just trying to put together a timeline in my head. Bill was
quite vocal in his ranting this morning. It didn't make a lot of sense
then. As to your grammar question, if you promise to NOT try to wake her,
your mother is NOT dead. She is asleep (at least she was before I went out
for you) in the south bedroom. This way please." Elmo stepped out of the
kitchen, leaving the plates on the counter for later. The twins did not
believe a word of it, but followed anyway. They were not going to believe
it, until they saw her.
A collective gasp escaped their bodies as they saw that the figure under
the three Hudson Bay blankets was indeed their mother. She had a black
eye, the same as Samantha. Her hair was dull and tangled, but her face was
clean. She was clearly thin and starved, but their mother lived still.
Time stood still while the event was processed by their minds.
"Mom! How, Where? What is wrong with her?" The twins spoke in unison.
"She was a guest of Butt Hole, just like you. Only today Bill was not
going to sell her to a camel jockey. He was trying to kill her for real
this time. She has had a VERY difficult morning. I think it is best that
she get to sleep until at least dinner time before we try to wake her."
Elmo replied softly.
KABOOM! BOOM BOOM! The storm was not letting up at all. Shannon
didn't flinch from the noise. She was out of this world for now. The rain
was running off the roof, and overflowing the large gutters on the sides.
It was difficult to even see the sheds to the south, much less the
boathouse or the lake. Elmo walked back into the kitchen to stoke the wood
stove. He hung the towels and his clothes on the line over it to dry.
"You two may wander the house, play board games, or stay with mom.
Please do not hurt yourselves, or my cat. Tootles, a lost boy, is up in
the attic now, but he may come down behind you there. I've still got
chores to do outside in this mess. I'll be back when I'm done." Elmo
started for the door, but was stopped by Samantha.
"Why didn't you just shoot the Son-of-a-Bitch across the lake just now?
You had a machine gun." Sammy gave Elmo the eagle eye stare.
"Professional satisfaction, my dear. Besides, I did not have a backup
plan, and you didn't shoot him when you had the chance." Elmo quipped at
them. "I would rather use my hands. Every shooting is just another
opportunity for the anti-gun media to rant about disarming the populace.
Take away our guns; then take away our freedom."
"What are you going to do with us, Elmo?" Cindy asked.
"Do to you? I will do nothing to you without your consent. Do for you?
Anything I can to help you. Backrub, food, warm clothes and warm bed, wild
sex on the floor, even a phone when conditions improve." Elmo winked at
them when he mentioned sex. "When your Mother has both feet on the floor,
her head erect, and both eyes looking forward, I will drive the three of
you wherever you ask me to go."
The girls said "Frizzy" and held their breath.
Once back out in the tool shed, Elmo relit the gas lamps, and extracted
the Stink Pad from its covering. "Does smell a bit like 4198 nitro powder,
maybe there is something to arm inside it." Elmo reached for his Torx bits.
The twins were searching the house. They found Elmo's ID, Mom's ID
(WOW!!!), several guns, lots of ammo and a friendly tomcat who liked to be
scratched. They decided that Elmo might be trusted, at least until Mom
woke up. The cat was fed with the food in the cabinet. He munched and
crunched, then curled up on Mom. Cindy found a copy of the Social
Register; the bookmark was placed on Shannon's page. They looked for Elmo
on a whim. He was listed many pages after their mother.
Elmo found nearly six ounces of orange plastic explosive, and several
tamper switches inside the case of the Stink Pad. All were then neatly
removed, and the case was reassembled. After coming out of standby, the
laptop was a gold mine of data. The desktop showed icons for a diary, an
organizational chart, an inventory program, spreadsheets, a plain text
password list (major no-no, Bill!) and a directory, locked, labeled "Dirt".
The icon that interested Elmo the most was "database search and xref".
Starting that application, Elmo entered "Frizzy" and hit the search button.
Entries appeared in the calendar, the diary, and personnel bios. Clicking
on the bio reference, a full report came up. A picture, vital stats,
psycho workup, the whole nine yards. Name: Jenny Murphy, 45, Super butch
dyke, life partner of Shannon McDonald (also hyperlinked), Scheduled for a
Givadictome September 21st. Cell phone # 314-707-7874. Legal guardian of
Cynthia and Samantha McDonald Missing in action.
"Wow, blow me away. This Butt Hole Bill dude had the details on
everything. What is the calendar entry?" Elmo chased that hyperlink with
the stink mouse, and was rewarded with an entry on a pair of Ketamine
equipped backpacks and a camping trip to the Porcupine Mountains starting
the next day. "Multiple backpacks? That hyperlink shows a radio beacon
and an immobilizer unit. She's going to be obtained by the bad guys.
Trying the hyperlink to Shannon, Elmo found an entry for her execution, the
sale of the twins, some info on her rape 17 years ago, and her location in
the complex; cell #1. A list with thumbnails of performance partners, Lisa
Murphy platinum blonde, Sharon Quest... Also there was a link to her
former FBI partner, Mark Chandler and a phone number, with email address.
The email was hyperlinked. This was getting fun, following the hyperlinks.
Elmo tried the entry for Lisa. "Lisa? Could this be the same Lisa?" Elmo
wondered aloud again. Lisa What a little bombshell. 5' 6" California
Highway Patrol officer. Obtained 03/10/2002. Fianc Tom Stafford, CHP
phone 714-743-7038... It even lists her eyeglass prescription and
turn-on's. The hyperlink to cell number 2 wanted an online connection, but
it also listed the location as both UTM coordinates and as a company name.
Anderson Associates, Land-O-Lakes Wisconsin. The street address was closer
to Eagle River, just off US45.
"Who is this Tom guy? I bet he would like to know where his honey is."
Elmo was forming a plan, and it needed outside help. He followed that
hyper link too. Tom Stafford, CHP, Godan in Kenpo, San Diego based. "Ok,
Tom lets see if you are home." Elmo winced as another thunderclap shook the
building. He switched the cell on and dialed.
"Officer Stafford here." Tom answered his cell promptly.
"Hello, Tom, my name is Elmo. This is an insecure link. I understand
you are looking for a petite platinum blonde named Lisa. She is another
CHP like yourself." Elmo measured his speech.
"You have my undivided attention, Elmo." Tom's voice was on edge.
"Lisa is alive, and is being kept by professional slavers in northern
Wisconsin, near the Michigan state line. There are four other women being
held with her in an underground dungeon. A quick look says they are all
law enforcement personnel. Another captive's name is Sharon Quest." Elmo
needed a breath.
"Yeah, right!" Tom thought he was being played again.
"On my honor as a Kenpo Shodan, I'm telling you the truth Tom. Lisa is
at 16 500200.0 North by 346000 West, UTM coordinates. Depth is -20 feet.
DO NOT contact the FBI directly, use state assets only. I'll call back
when I can get a better picture of her condition. You can trust one FBI
agent; Mark Chandler, his number is 707-345-2292. Mention the name of
Shannon McDonald. I've got to go. Good Luck!" Elmo was pressing his luck.
"Thank you, Elmo I'll look into this." Tom hung up his end. He was
elated at the tip, even if it sounded suspicious. People he had arrested
had given him blind alleys before. This could be another case of it.
Still, he had to hope something would break his direction.
"Murphy" Frizzy answered her cell on the fourth ring.
"Hello, I'm trying to reach someone named Frizzy. I'm calling on behalf
of two identical somebody's. Would that be you?" Elmo was firm and direct.
"Yes, this is Frizzy" Jenny replied feeling quite annoyed at being
interrupted from her box lunch at the Y. Her camping partner had arrived
not long before. They were in the Eagle River Motel, right on the river.
"Good, Jenny you need to listen to everything I have to say before
asking questions. Okay?" Elmo pressed that with a bit more volume.
"Okay, I'll bite." Jenny scowled at the phone. The deep voice became
hoarse.
"Seventeen years ago someone, I'll call Mr. X, raped Shannon McDonald.
This yielded the two identical somebody's I mentioned before. Both are
alive and well, and nearby. Three years ago Shannon was allegedly killed
in a car bombing while on a stakeout. A Mr. Y. filed the report. Nine
months ago the two somebody's were abducted. Mr. Y also filed the report.
Now Mr. Y has given you and your escort a pair of special backpacks. Two
backpacks with locator beacons in them, and another unannounced part. That
part is a Ketamine injection system. You should have a state police dog
sniff them. When the dog reacts, or sits down, you'll know that Mr. X and
Mr. Y are the same person, and you shouldn't go camping in the Porcupines.
Any Questions?" Elmo was not expecting the response he got.
"Just who the fuck put you up to this, chump?" Frizzy was frothing at
the mouth in rage. "What business is it of yours to go shitting on my
private activities? Shannon is DEAD! She was blown to bits too small to
pick up with a tweezers. Rigged back packs, my ASS!"
"Have the backpacks examined, Frizzy. You don't need to suffer like
Shannon has. And stop taking those pills; they are affecting your brain.
Goodbye." Elmo had had enough. He could lead the horse to water, but was
not about to make it drink.
"Vicious Bitch!" Elmo did not like her already.
"Okay, Mark Chandler, you are next. I think some extracts from Bill's
diary would be nice to send. Can I go online? Yes, there is a cable in
the pack from modem port to the phone. Activate the network connection and
wow, a secure tunnel to where ever it dialed." Elmo was getting into it.
At least Butt Hole Bill did not use Outleak Express to forward viruses.
Greetings Mark, Your former partner, Shannon McDonald and her twins are
alive, and safe for the time being. I've attempted to attach a few files
you might find interesting. The owner of this account, Butt Hole Bill
Andrews is dead. He chewed on a nitric acid filled butt plug meant for
Shannon this morning. Please don't disconnect this account. I may need it
to facilitate the rescue of at least five other women that Bill was holding
captive. You might hear from Tom Stafford, a CHP who is interested in one
woman in particular. Shannon was beaten very badly this morning, prior to
the execution attempt. Those four perpetrators will not get another chance
at it, I made sure of it.
The twins are clones of their Mom. They are watching her right now.
For now, they are in Watersmeet Township, Gogebic County, Michigan. I hope
you have an empty stomach when you see the attachments I've got for you.
Later, Elmo.
PS: check on one Abu Sayeef, and a boat on the Charles River. Try the
Wakefield office of the Michigan State Police." Quick and to the point, if
he reads it Elmo thought.
Attaching a small video clip of Butt Hole Bill's corpse, the org chart,
three days worth of diary entries, and a "stock" listing of current slaves,
Elmo hit send. Five minutes later, the deed was done. "Damned fast link!"
Elmo thought of the setup in his hands. He disconnected from the net. He
thought of visiting CNN, but battery life is a finite resource. He might
need it later.
Somewhere in International Falls, Minnesota, a frustrated and
downtrodden agent noticed a large email from his long time nemesis. "What
does that asshole want?" Mark said rather loudly.
"What kind of sick joke is this?" Mark continued as he read on. The 6
seconds of video showing Bill eating the butt plug got Mark's attention.
"A diary attachment?" Mark said aloud again. Another agent looked over the
cube wall, and shook his head. Word for Windoze popped up; it was an entry
on capturing Shannon. Another popped up, detailing the bogus transfer of
Mark out of state. Another appeared this one on the execution date, and
selling the twins.
"Hmmm... I was right all along. Shannon is alive, and with the twins
now. Who is Elmo? Who is Tom? What should I do now?" Mark had a lot to
do. He started by calling St. Louis, to the probate judge that was doing
Shannon's estate case. Next on his list was the Wakefield office.
"Cindy, how is your mom doing?" Elmo spoke as he shook the rain off
himself and closed the cabin door.
"She has not woken up, but has said "Lisa" a few times. Who is Lisa?"
Cindy looked puzzled.
"Lisa is another slave, held a few miles from here. She is a petite tow
headed CHP officer. Your mother was forced to perform with her and others
for Bill's amusement. Baradur is the name of the dungeon; it is just north
of Eagle River, about 45 minutes away by car." Elmo deadpanned the answer.
"And just how do you know so much, Elmo, if you are not friends with
Butt Hole Bill?" Sammy had a sarcastic tone to her voice, and had one hand
hidden.
"Bill left his laptop online to film Mom's execution. Do either of you
do Windoze? I'm a UNIX sort. I never got into Satanic Software products.
I can bring it in, but there are quite a few things on it I doubt you
really want to see." Elmo was apologetic.
"Such as...?" Cindy still didn't buy it.
"Video of the mornings execution attempt, complete with the beating and
horrible sounds. Other successful executions, memorable beatings, and
torture sessions, things Bill treasured. Not what I wanted to see before
cooking dinner." Elmo was concerned; those were nightmare materials.
"Does it show Bill eating his butt plug?" Cindy was still at it.
"Yes, it is very graphic." Elmo turned pale.
"Get it!" Sammy knew what she wanted, and that was to watch Bill die.
It would please her to no end, especially if he suffered a lot. Friends
may come and go; an enemy is forever.
"I don't think that is a good idea. I'll get the machine, but you
really don't want to watch that video. It is very, very horrible. I'll
take you to see the body in the morning. Is that a fair compromise?" Elmo
was back into father mode.
"How did you know to look for us? Mom certainly didn't tell you where
we were! You did have two extra life jackets handy when you came over.
Did you lose weight? You don't look as thick as before." The twins
bombarded Elmo with questions. He took the subject change for a yes
answer.
"I give up. Butt Hole Bill had a very loud mouth, he yakked at your
mother as a psych game. He said he was trading you two to a camel jockey
for a 12 year old and $500,000 in cash. The jockey was to pick you up from
across the lake at 14:00 today. Two Virgins at $250,000 each and a new
play toy in trade." Elmo watched closely at their body language. Sammy put
something away in the bedroom by Mom.
"Virgins? No way! Frizzy took care of that the week after mom was
killed in the car bomb. She used a 10" black strap on. At least she used
some lube. That bastard Anderson never did. Frizzy said we could grow up
faster knowing about what men wanted. Anything larger that 6" only comes
in black she said." Cindy looked sad. Sammy came and sat beside her on the
day bed, in the windowed corner of the room. The rain beat on the windows;
it smeared the outside world away.
"I have the feeling that none of your partners ever wanted to let you
enjoy sex. They never put you first, or made you cum until you asked them
to stop. Sex is a two way street. If your partner doesn't care enough to
please you, you should not be with that partner. Who you choose to have
sex with, and when, and where is entirely up to you." Elmo spoke of his
standard line for his daughters.
"Both Frizzy and Bill used us for their pleasure, and theirs alone. It
is better to give than receive they both said." Both twins looked downright
depressed.
"That really sucks. Hopefully, life will improve for you with your
mother back in the equation. Since it is rather hard to barbeque in the
rain, I think a lighter dinner is on order. Would either of you like a
backrub while we discuss something less depressing? I could rub some of
the stiffness out of your back, Cindy. I see you are a bit slow in moving
around. Come on into the north bedroom. Oh, that reminds me. Where do
you two want to sleep? The bunk beds, or in on the queen bed together?"
Elmo still had to manage the house.
"Top Bunk!" Cindy called first. Sammy stuck her tongue out at her
sibling.
"Spoil sport!" Sammy rejoined in jest.
"Alright, I can make them up for you." Elmo started for the chest of
drawers that contained all the bed clothes.
"No, we can do that. You make the queen bed up." Sammy bounced away to
get the sheets. Elmo noted that she had not asked where they were.
"Thank you ladies. I did not think your mother would be ready to travel
for several days. Maybe by Monday morning she would want to move about.
However, she will have to approve everything we do. At this point, I don't
think she has a clue. The blankets are in this wicker chest here." Elmo
pointed to the old chest at the foot of the queen bed. He didn't let on
about their knowledge of the cabin's contents.
"Why is mom in your bed? Is she going to sleep with you?" Sammy sounded
more positive now.
"My bed was the only bed available when I brought her in. Sleep is what
heals the best. When she wakes up, somebody needs to be there so she will
not wake up alone. Butt Hole Bill controlled his slaves in every possible
way. He deprived them of touch and comfort and companionship. Your mother
had an iron collar and shackles welded closed on her. I cut them off with
a power saw before I came to get you." Elmo relaxed on the bed. The girls
were seated on either side of him.
"We saw the marks on her. It did not take much imagination to guess
what they were from." Cindy looked at Elmo. Bill had threatened them with
collars before.
"When she wakes up, she will still think she is a slave, and Bill was
just taunting her again. Bill has done mock executions before. Some
executions your mother was forced to watch live. Now who is first?" Elmo
tried to steer the subject away from the darker issues.
"Why should we trust you?" Both twins asked at once.
"Trust me to do what? To not assault you like Bill? To make you cum
until you say stop? To do what I've said I would do? Or is it trust me to
not take advantage of your mother's condition?" Elmo looked puzzled; he
didn't know where this was going.
"Mainly to not assault us or Mom. To respect our wishes if we say No."
Cindy talked directly to Elmo.
"If I had wanted to, I'm more than capable of having my own way. You
have seen the results across the lake. However, I teach young ladies like
you the art of self-defense. I am a very firm believer in consent.
Forcing anyone to do otherwise is a major turn off. Sex, and sparring are
very much alike. They must be fun for all involved. This is exactly what
I tell my teen-aged daughters. Don't let someone force you to do something
you don't want to do, or don't like doing. I practice what I preach; I
will not force you to sit still for even a backrub, if you don't want to do
it. The other side of that question is why do I trust you two? If you
would just put your arms down here, Cindy." Elmo said as he started rubbing
a knotted muscle on her left shoulder. Elmo's trained hands soon had Cindy
directing him on where to rub.
"You two have had more than enough time to find the guns and ammo I keep
here. You could have done me in as early as the time you were unchained
across the lake. I handed Cindy the gun while yoyo committed suicide in
the shed. I trust you, apart from being listed in the Social Register,
because I see you as adults. You lived through Butt Hole's training camp;
you likely would have a sense of who is evil, and who is a friend. Hmmm...
that is just so tight. Here, put this pillow under your boobs, and relax
your neck more. Is that better?" Elmo went slow and easy on the rub.
Cindy melted into the mattress. Sammy watched just where Elmo was rubbing.
He had not gone near anything sensitive yet.
"Yeah, you do give a good rubdown." Cindy was limp and smiling.
"On to dinner then. I though a salad and rolls from the oven would be
enough. We'll save the tenderloin and Barnaise sauce for when you mother
is better able to enjoy it. Most of it is ready. I only need to cook and
slice the eggs, and preheat the oven for the rolls. When we start the
rolls, you can try to rouse you mother. Do not expect too much, and please
do not speak until she is aware of her surroundings." Elmo was emphatic on
the last part.
"Why is that, Elmo?" Sammy didn't understand; she didn't want to wait.
"We need to take small steps at first - no shocks. I wouldn't want her
to think you two were slaves too, driven here to torment her by Bill. Even
if you were at one point a slave for Bill. Royalty rules apply Think
before acting, only face forward to the subject, back out of the room.
Nonverbal signals count for a greater part of the message that we need to
send." Elmo sounded like a university professor. But it was true; the
subject had to feel elevated to come out of such an injury.
"Where did you two go to school before your "vacation"?" Elmo reached
out for small talk.
"MICDS." Sammy beamed out the answer.
"Hmmm... my alma mater. Then you might have known Larry Logan." Elmo
thought back 30 years.
"Yes, he was the head of the math department. He retired a few years
ago." Sammy was smirking. She remembered having to stand for a whole class
when she did not bring in her homework.
"Larry taught me to program. That was the same year I started Karate.
Oh, my grey hairs, do I feel old." Elmo really did feel old. The girls
giggled thinking about Elmo being taught by Mr. Logan.
"Are you ready to see if mom will join the living?" Elmo sounded upbeat.
Sammy had her backrub, head down to toes and back again. Both girls
enjoyed the rubdown session. Elmo had learned that art in college, staying
in the all-girls dorm as a bouncer.
"Yes!" The twins answered in unison again.
"Okay, let's go visiting. Stay on the other side of the bed for now and
please try to remain quiet." Elmo reminded them again.
Elmo reached for Shannon's hand. Taking it gently, checking the pulse,
he kissed it and spoke softly.
"Shannon, Shannon! Can you hear me? Shannon my queen, you are above
ground. You are free and safe. You can hear the thunderstorm, the rain.
Shannon, you are in a warm bed, the lights are on. Would you please open
your eyes and give us a smile? Shannon, it is dinnertime. The hardest
thing you will have to do today is simply to decide if you will dine with
us." Elmo kept holding her hand. A look of genuine concern stuck on his
brow.
"Master Butt Hole... No, that is a lie. You will only hit me again
Master!" Shannon's faint squeak hit the girls hard. They had heard their
dead mother actually respond.
"Shannon, my queen, feel my hand. Nobody here will hit you. We all
care about you. Here, feel your neck. There is no collar, no chains, and
no dog cage. Trust your senses, Shannon. You are free; your tormentors
are lying dead in the forest. May the wolves carry them off! Feel this...
a soft touch, not an iron collar." Elmo persisted in his calm even voice.
He was not making any progress in his self appointed quest.
"The good witch of the north, Glinda, has run out of ruby red slippers,
so we used emerald green socks instead. Just rub your feet together and
say, "I want to see my twins." Twice mind you, and they will appear here,
now, to wait on you hand and foot." Elmo flashed a Cheshire Cat grin, but
Shannon didn't move a bit.
"Master this is another trick." Shannon still didn't move.
"Has your collar ever been off before, Shannon? This is not a trick.
Please open your eyes and give us a smile. How can you see your twins over
here having three cows and a kitten between them, waiting for you to wake
up, if you don't open your eyes? I will not force you to do anything,
Shannon. Dinner will be ready soon. Cindy, Sammy, please keep your mother
company while I finish dinner." Elmo backed slowly out of the room.
Shannon still didn't move.
"Mom!" Both girls nearly screamed as they advanced in their long lost
mother. Oh, Mother we thought you were dead for so long. Please talk to
us! How do you feel?" Sammy took charge.
"Are you thirsty, do you need some aspirin?" Cindy was not about to be
out-competed for Mom's attention.
"It is so wonderful to have you back!" Sammy was slowly losing her smile
as she talked. Shannon was not present. She was either back asleep or
lost in space. Shannon did not respond to the girls at all.
"She really is in a heavy fog, isn't she, Elmo?" Cindy had left mom and
found Elmo in the kitchen.
"I'm no doctor, but I agree with you that she is not back in our reality
yet. Let her go to sleep. I hope that her mind will clear by the morning.
If not, I'll have to go for help somewhere." Elmo looked sympathetic. He
gave the young teen a hug, which she returned heartily.
"Mom's so out of it. She didn't recognize me!" Sammy was on the verge
of tears.
"Do not take it so hard, Sam, she'll pull through. Supper is ready!"
Elmo was ready to eat, but he gave the distraught girl a hug like her
sister had gotten. Sammy pulled a bit tighter to Elmo, and lingered a bit
longer.
"Why are you doing this for us? I mean you obviously risked your life
several times. You have taken in three complete strangers offhand. What
if we were really homicidal maniacs, and were just lacking our hockey
masks?" Sammy thought she had an advantage.
"There is a nice 36" full chipper Stihl chainsaw out in the tool shed,
Jason." Elmo was smug. If ever there was a saw that liked wood, that one
was it. Nothing bogged it down, not even wet elm trees. The girls had not
taken even the slightest offensive angle since they had seen Elmo. At
least no blatant actions he thought.
"First off, there is parental duty, and instinct. Protect, Defend, and
Provide. Something my Ex never got into her head. Then there is thirty
years of hard-core Kenpo honor to observe. As the Yaqui sorcerer said, you
have to fight the fight of the impeccable warrior. Have you read any
Castenada? Never run away from something that is your duty to perform. I
could not leave your mother to die, nor could I leave you two to rot in
camel land. Now that you are here, I'm bound to be a good host, and
provide for you until your mother can take over. Is that a sufficient
answer Sam?" Elmo looked pleased with his little speech. Like the riders
of Rohan, and the men of Gondor, he would do just what he said, or die
trying.
"What makes you so sure you could eat my pussy until I begged you to
stop? Frizzy couldn't make us cum." Cindy was calling in the bluff that
was offered in jest.
"Is that a challenge? When I was in graduate school, I had a girlfriend
that was a true nymphomaniac. She was dominant in bed, and insisted that I
learn to please her. I learned a lot of techniques. Any time, any way,
any hole, anywhere, Hollie was ready for sex. After two years, she left me
for another woman. That led to some very interesting three-way sex. I
still chat with her even today. We compare notes on children, and she
teases me mercilessly on what we used to do. I have never had better sex,
before or since. She really opened my horizons as far as dealing with sex
and partners. Her lezzy friend said I was a good lover. That is extra
ordinary, as she was totally butch." Elmo smiled and remembered...
"You would expect reciprocity from us, wouldn't you?" Cindy was not
letting go of it.
"Hey, that is up to you sweetheart. I'm not asking for either. I rate
oral sex a bit higher than many others. I can go for hours, rather than
minutes. My Ex didn't care for it at all." Elmo was sad thinking about
that failure. Sex stopped right after his youngest was born. She didn't
want any more children, so why should she bother with sex?
"So this is why you made up the other queen bed, just to seduce us!"
Sammy battled back into the conversation. She had that I ate the canary
look about her.
"Nope, sorry little sugar. If your mother woke up and wanted a room
with a lock on the INSIDE, this is the only one around." Elmo had her on
that score. He had joked about sex to show that nothing was taboo in the
cabin. He certainly never expected the twins to be forward and eager!
"Would you really do that for us?" Sammy was looking with wide eyes at
being treated as a grown up.
"Sure I would. Provided you keep this to yourselves. Sixteen is the
legal age in this state. I think you are old enough to decide." Elmo
thought it was time to call their bluff.
"What should I do?" asked Cindy.
"You can start by dropping the scrubs, and getting comfortable on the
bed. Sammy you can watch or help out. It's your call." Elmo thought they
would crash in flames at any second. He was wrong. Both girls dropped
their pants and climbed up on the bed.
"Feel free to direct me, Cindy. Harder or softer, faster or slower, I
can take directions and follow them. You will get the picture." Elmo
stopped talking and started looking. Hmmmmm... freshly shaved, clean
mid-teen pussy. How many years had it been? Small firm labia, a puffy
mons. Did old Elmo die and go to heaven? Nope. There was still a storm
outside, blowing and thundering. Elmo was not going to back down.
Clothing was optional at the cabin.
Starting at her neck, he worked his way slowly down to the breasts,
kissing and licking the interesting points along the way. Wonderfully firm
and soft globes these are. Equal attention being paid to both navel orange
sized breasts. Whisker burn the belly button. Savor the aroma of aroused
teenager. Long slow licks, bottom to top. Work outside to inside, hands
staying busy on the thighs. They moved up to the boobs in time to match a
spear to the moist cunt hole with a tongue. Lash that clit and move on,
never staying in one place for too long. Elmo could feel Cindy's thighs
tighten.
"Back there, right, harder!" Cindy guided Elmo's attention to the
correct spot.
"Nope... Not yet Lover." Elmo wanted the crest to be higher. That
meant waiting and using indirect attack. Long and slow licks again. Suck
in the whole mons, and then buzz saw the clit.
"EEEEEYYYYYYYOOOOOOOAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!" Cindy exploded in sweat and hard
breathing. Clutching Elmo by the hair she drove his face into her clit.
Elmo slowed the pace, and went back to the outside to inside pattern. He
speared the cunt again with his tongue. Dragging his fingers lightly
around her breasts, Elmo timed the motions to the beat of the rain on the
window.
"AHHH MMMMmmmmmmmm" Cindy arched again, panting. "Stop; enough!" Sammy
you have got to ride that tiger. Frizzy never was that slow or careful!"
"One down, one to go?" Elmo looked at Sammy, who was considering her
options.
"You do not have to try that if you don't want to." Elmo gave her
another chance to say no, but she wanted to keep up with her more inhibited
sister.
"Please do that to me too, Elmo!" Sammy adjusted up the bed some to make
room.
"Never refuse a damsel in distress, my father always told me." Elmo was
single again, wasn't he? He started on Sammy like her sister, slowly and
from the top. Make the girl want it. Chew lightly on the boobs; brush the
other with the fingers like a small hand groping for a meal. Swirl the
tongue around them; draw in cold air to make the nipple firm. Move down
slowly into the Promised Land. Pull, lick, slurp, using long slow licks.
Perineum to the fuzz, lick up, down, massage the thighs. Finger the boobs
and walk the fingers along the legs. Pulling her legs up onto his
shoulders, Elmo spread Samantha apart and concentrated on her vagina. Suck
and buzz saw. Slipping a finger into the wet honey, he probed deeply.
Oops, she tightened up. Different from her sister, yet still the same.
Spear, poke, and reach for that G spot.
"AYEEEE! AHHHHHMMMmmmm" Sammy wracked on the bed, legs closing together
hard.
"Hey, watch those thighs; I want my head still attached to my neck,
please!" Elmo knew he had scored a home run with that one. Going back to
the outside, Elmo worked broad gentle strokes until she tensed again, then
he hit the G spot a second time.
"AAHHHHHAAAAHHHHHHh Enough! You proved your point. Thank you!"
Samantha worked on catching her breath.
"You are most welcome. Come back again, when you want more." Elmo put
on his best face.
"What about you, don't you want something? You deserve it after that
performance!" Cindy was ready to go.
"Deserve? That is up to you to start something. I won't make demands.
If you are looking for eight inches, I suppose I could give it to you
twice." Elmo looked sheepish.
"Is he really that small?" Cindy didn't think that was right. A big
tough guy should have a rugged penis.
"For some, size is the only thing that matters. He is slightly below
average, but my nympho friend never complained. Unless it was that I
couldn't service her 10 times in one night." Elmo was not lying.
"Your girlfriend said that to you?" Sammy took more interest now.
"Yes, she always wanted more. I found that anal sex was my least
favorite way to please her, but she insisted on that too. If that is what
she wanted, I'd give it to her." Elmo smiled to himself again.
The twins thought about the butt fucking they got from Bill, and
silently agreed that Elmo had that one right. "What do you have for birth
control here?" Sammy asked.
"A Vasectomy." Elmo remembered he did it so his wife would not have to
keep taking the pill. Lots of good it did him then. It was just another
empty promise she made to him. Like shaving off his beard would earn him
kisses.
"I'll ride your cock, Elmo, Sam can ride your face again." Cindy was at
large, and in charge.
"Just don't expect me to last too long." Elmo warned them again.
"Then we'll just have to switch and do it again. Ten was your limit?"
Cindy giggled as the two positioned themselves face to face and began
kissing.
"Shit, 10 was at 22, not 44." Elmo muttered into Sammy's snatch.
"Shut up and eat, Elmo" was her reply.
"No resistance on the way in, squeeze and suck on the way out. Milk
that snake, honey!" Sammy encouraged her sister. Elmo did better than
three strokes, but less than three minutes.
"Perfect!" Cindy giggled. She pulled off and quickly switched with her
sister. The dollop of cum fell right into Elmo's mouth. She rocked back
and forth until she was sure he had the whole load in there. "What's good
for the Goose, is good for the Gander!" Elmo had been there before, Hollie
liked giving him a creampie shake. When Cindy rolled off him, Elmo rolled
over her and kissed her hard. Drooling the copious fluids into her willing
mouth, Elmo returned the favor. Samantha pushed Elmo out of the way, and
the two swapped cum for a while. "Salty, but it has a taste I like." Cindy
studied the flavor like a chef in the kitchen. Elmo was wiped out.
"You ladies have tired me out. I'm going to finish the dishes and go to
play on that laptop some more. Maybe I can use the information tomorrow."
Elmo began to get up to get dressed, but the girls held him down.
"Thank you Elmo for the rescue. And for the lessons too!" Proper young
ladies, those two Elmo thought.
Continued in part 2
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