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Message-ID: <47665asstr$1083391804@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Vulgar Argot <vulgarargotREMOVEALL@CAPSinsidejoke.tv>
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Subject: {ASSM} Princes of Mannsborough, Chapter 9 of 22
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Date: Sat,  1 May 2004 02:10:04 -0400
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Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Princes of Mannsborough, Chapter 9 of 22
by Vulgar Argot
(tags at bottom to avoid spoilerage)

Leaving Marigold dozing, curled up on the bed, Thule went into the
bathroom to splash some cold water on his face. Gazing into the mirror
over the sink, he took a personal inventory. He was starting to show
stubble and, in two or three days, would need to shave again. He was
starting to develop dark circles under his eyes again, but they did
not look so bad on his tanned face as they had as when they were the
only color he had. Still, he was getting deep into sleep debt and
would have to catch up soon.

He ran a hand through his mass of hair, easing out a few tangles that
he'd accumulated while making love to Marigold. He would get it cut
tomorrow or the next day. He'd been debating a shearing before Jonas
suggested it. The hair had given him a certain social credibility
among the stoners and burnouts at school, but it was a nuisance,
taking up far too much of his time on maintenance. Shorter hair meant
more sleep and more code, which meant more money for MIT next next.

Glancing in the medicine cabinet mirror, he could see the image of
Marigold sprawled, face-down on the bed. The form she'd worked so hard
to hide throughout high school was openly on display. It made Thule
want to run back to bed, touch her, trace kisses down her spine. Short
hair would leave more time for other things, too. He chuckled,
imagining that thought hadn't occurred to Jonas.

Thule realized that he was staring at Marigold in the mirror. But,
since she was sleeping, there was no need to look away. He'd always
known she was pretty and, through tantalizing glances at unguarded
moments, suspected that she was even beautiful, but never expected it
to be like this. From the first time she'd submitted to his
attentions, his plans and self-control had taken a serious blow. When
he looked back at the way he'd expected to use Marigold when this all
started, he laughed at his own naivete.

When Thule had imagined getting revenge on Marigold, he had
occasionally allowed himself to daydream about the idea that the
revenge might actually change her. As foolish as it seemed in
hindsight, he was completely blindsided by how it was changing him. In
his more melodramatic moments, he'd thought of himself as a failed
protector, no longer worthy of the mantle, seeking revenge as some
final bit of redemption before falling on his own sword. Any thought
that he'd been able to get away from his role as protector had
dissipated when he burst through Adam's door the day before.

Until this weekend, Thule had two very different visions of the
future. In one, he finished high school, went on to MIT, and lived a
normal life. In the other, he brought down apocalyptic vengeance on a
biblical scale on Randy Vandevoort and the cloud of miscreants who
surrounded him. But, after that, there was nothing. Thule had no exit
strategy. For a long time, he'd been angry enough that it was
all-consuming. He was going to get his revenge. And, if it meant he
ended up dead or in jail, that was a relatively minor concern.

Seemingly without waking, Marigold reached up and pulled a pillow into
her arms, curling around it. Again, Thule considered just giving up
the revenge business. He found that he very much wanted to come out of
this year free and with his skin intact. Reluctantly letting his eyes
track away from Marigold, he stared at himself in the mirror again.
Ignoring the signs of sleep deprivation, he focused on his own eyes
and thought about giving up. People did horrible things every day and
got away with it. Why should Mannsborough be any different? But, he
couldn't get through the thought without looking away.

He tried again, telling himself that he was only doing it because his
crazy ex-girlfriend had convinced him to. The idea rang false. He no
longer felt any connection to Maya. He'd come home to a long, tearful
e-mail from her, apologizing in detail for all of her transgressions,
real and imagined. He hadn't answered. There had been another long,
ranty message, blaming him for all of the things she'd just apologized
for when he got home today. He would have to deal with Maya at some
point, but that could wait a few days.

Thule thought about what he had on Randy so far. It should be enough
to get an indictment and ruin the Vandevoorts' reputation. But, was it
enough for a conviction? Thule didn't know. Was he willing to hand it
over to the proper authorities and hope for the best?

He looked himself in the eyes a third time and knew the answer.
Conjuring up his best John Wayne impression, he said, "Well, pilgrim.
A man who can't look himself in the eye when he makes a decision ain't
really much of a man." 

He lowered his head and laughed at himself. He could certainly be
melodramatic when he put his mind to it.

With fresh resolve, Thule turned back towards the bedroom. He had
thought he was done with crazy women. But Marigold had the potential
to be as bugfuck bonkers as Maya in her own, special way. Looking at
her gave him pause. His first attempt at the revenge business had been
a rather spectacular failure. His plan had had a certain poetic
elegance to it. Marigold had made Maya feel like a whore, so Thule had
done the same thing to Marigold.

But, this was not the planned end result. Marigold was supposed to be
broken and miserable because of it, like Maya had been, not sleeping
peacefully in his bed, probably looking forward to more of the same
treatment that had been intended to break her.

Again, Thule's resolve almost faltered. Thule had started with
Marigold because she was the least of Maya's transgressors. How in the
hell was he going to take down the real bad guys after such a
spectacular failure on what had effectively been a trial run?

He physically shook his head as if his doubts were so many cobwebs
that could be physically torn away by violent motion and growled to
himself, "Fuck it." Randy and Brianne were going to jail. If they
turned out to enjoy it, so be it.

But, he was done with revenge on Marigold, whatever games she might
want to play about giving and taking orders. He wanted to protect her,
not expose her. He needed to make sure that he didn't inadvertently do
so if something happened to him.

He'd collected an extraordinary amount of blackmail material on her.
Crossing the room, he started up his DVD-ROM burning software and
started to burn everything he'd collected to a couple of discs,
encrypting and password protecting it so that, even if someone else
found the DVD, they couldn't see its contents. He considered just
deleting the files, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

As he started burning the first disk, he realized that he had one more
file to take care of. Unlocking the top drawer of his desk, he
extracted a thin metallic tube, not much wider than a finger. To
someone not familiar with such devices, it didn't look like much of
anything. Even having drooled over this particular model in catalogs,
Thule had almost missed it yesterday.

Fortunately, it fit the adapter he had gotten with some much less
expensive units. Plugging it into the adapter attached to a second
computer, he started the software that would allow him to view what
the tiny camera had recorded.

Marigold stirred and looked up.

"I should get home," she said. Thule could hear the remorse in her
voice. He checked the clock and saw she was right. He said, "Call
Jonas. Tell him you'll be home soon. I just need to finish this."

Marigold walked over to the desk, still blinking sleep from her eyes.
As she reached for the receiver, she asked casually, "What are you
doing?"

Thule put an arm around Marigold's belly, drawing her to him, and
kissed the top of her head. Even the casual gesture brought his
momentarily dormant libido into the forefront of his attention.
Focusing on the question, he said, "I'm moving all of the
incriminating files I have of you to DVD so that there's no chance
they will fall into the wrong hands. Then, I'll delete them off of the
hard drive and run a special utility to make sure that they can't be
recovered.

Marigold looked at the second screen, "What's that?"

"That's you and Adam," Thule said quietly.

Marigold leaned forward to look more closely, but didn't pull away,
"How the hell did you record that?"

"I didn't," said Thule. "Not only did Adam sell spy cameras, he
apparently used them as well. While you were in the bathroom, I
spotted this one," he held up the tube, "on top of his TV. It's an
Atech-Terra Model 1500, very high tech and state-of-the-art. That's
why the picture is so clear."

Marigold watched the image for a while, her face unreadable, "Are you
going to keep this file?"

"I was planning to," said Thule.

"Why?"

"Force of habit," said Thule. "It's in my nature to be thorough. If
you would rather, I could destroy it."

"Would you want to watch it?" Marigold asked.

Thule shook his head, "No. I only watched it now to see whether I'd
been right that it was recording when I took it. I would hate to think
I stole several thousand dollars worth of camera based on a faulty
assumption."

"So, you don't like seeing me with another man?" asked Marigold. "It
doesn't do anything for you?"

Thule shook his head again, "No. I don't like seeing you with another
man."

Marigold's looked back at the first screen and seemed to change the
subject, "So, this is all the blackmail material you have on me?"

Thule nodded, "Yup."

"Thule, do you want me all to yourself? No other men? I know you said
you don't deserve it, but would you want it if you did?"

Thule watched the image of Adam slobbering all over Marigold on the
second monitor. Actually, he doubted the man was slobbering, but it
helped to pretend that he was.

"I want to protect you from guys like Adam," said Thule. Then,
thinking about the people they went to school with, he added, "and
worse."

"Then order me not to be with other men," Marigold said. "at least for
now. On some level, I knew what going with Adam was going to lead to,
but I couldn't think of any compelling reason not to go."

Thule wrapped his arm more tightly around her. Marigold's naked body
pressing against him was making it hard to think, "You want this?"

Marigold nodded, laying her head back on his shoulder, and nuzzling
against his neck, "I want this."

Letting his fingers roam gentle over her belly, Thule said gravely,
"Marigold,"

"Yes, Thule?"

"No other men. That's an order."

She lowered her head in a gesture of submission, "Yes, Thule."

Thule kissed the back of her neck and the top of her spine. His hands
roamed more freely over her body.

Marigold leaned forward, resting her elbows on top of the desk,
pressing her bottom against Thule's groin. Thule almost didn't hear
her ask, "So, what would happen if I were to turn this computer off
while you were moving files from the hard drive to DVD? Would it
destroy the files forever, like none of this had ever happened?"

Thule knew what would happen. One file of the several dozen he had
might get corrupted. He'd also have to start the burn over. He didn't
say that, though. Instead, he laid a hand on the small of Marigold's
back and said, "I don't know. It might." Then, he watched her
carefully.

Marigold spread her legs slightly and began to rub herself against
Thule. He stiffened immediately. Marigold lowered her head further,
staring intently at the power button on the computer.

Thule laid his free hand on Marigold's shoulder and said, "Little
flower, if you don't stop that, you're going to get home awfully
late."

Marigold stood up straight, pulling away from Thule a little so that
she could turn around and face him. Her eyes widened in what Thule
presumed to be feigned surprise, "You're right," she said, "I should
get dressed. It's too bad I can't stay all night. Thule, don't you
think it will be nice once we get to Boston and we can be together all
night?"

Thule smiled evilly, "Actually, I've got to wait at least another," he
glanced at the screen, "six minutes before I can take you home." Then,
he took Marigold's shoulder, turned her around and bent her over the
desk again.

"Six minutes isn't..." Marigold started to say, but Thule was already
pressing himself against her bottom. She only had time to gasp before
he was inside of her. It didn't take Marigold long to start moaning
and mewling, her body trembling under his onslaught.

Six minutes into sodomizing her, Thule slowed down. Marigold looked up
at him, disbelief in her eyes, "Please, don't stop," she begged.

"I'm not," said Thule, "hold still." Then, he reached over, grabbed
his keyboard and balanced it on her shoulders, pounding away at her
the whole time. Marigold made a little squeal of protest when she
heard him start typing, but held still. Less than a minute later,
Thule put the keyboard back on the desk and focused his attention back
on driving relentlessly into Marigold. As he did, he glanced over at
the second screen again. The file was just getting to the part, a
black streak of pre-coitus interruptus. Gripping Marigold's hips in
both hands, he drove harder into her, seeking to possess her totally.
It didn't take much of that before he exploded inside of her.
Marigold's whole body was trembling as if with fever by that time.
Thule pulled her backwards onto his lap in the desk chair where she
sat panting as he shrank out of her.

Marigold leaned back to kiss Thule on the neck. Thule said shakily,
"Now, you'd really better go get cleaned up. Then call Jonas."

"Okay," said Marigold. She skipped off, a look of smug satisfaction on
her face.

Thule sat back and sighed. If he survived to make it to Boston,
Marigold would probably be the death of him. After a few seconds of
relaxing, he began gathering his clothes and putting them back on. He
would need a shower after he got back from dropping Marigold off. At
this rate, it was going to be another long night.

Once dressed, he sat down at his desk again, ejected the DVD, labeled
it "MARIGOLD 1," and put it in the free-standing safe under his desk.
With the evidence he'd collected from the coach, the DVD, and the
video tape he'd retrieved from Paul in New York, it was starting to
get very full. Only he and Maya had the combination. He'd spent an
extra two hundred dollars on the safe so that he'd know that no one
else could open it.

He'd had doubts about Maya's suitability as a partner in crime all
along, but this weekend had really put things in perspective. He was
going to need another confederate he could trust. Marigold seemed an
obvious choice, but she really hadn't proven herself to have a mind
sufficiently twisted to deal with the safe's contents. If it wasn't
going to be her, his list of options was pretty much down to one.

As Marigold emerged from the bathroom, Thule had just piled the last
of the magnetic media onto the bulk eraser and powered it up.

"What's that?" she asked.

"That is a bulk eraser," said Thule. "It's the only reliable way to
destroy magnetic media."

"Is the movie of me and Adam on there?"

Thule held up a silver disk of metal no wider than a fingernail and
less than a quarter inch thick, "This is the movie of you and Adam.
The model 1500 uses solid state media and is radiation hardened to
survive a nuclear near-miss."

"So, you can't erase it?"

"I didn't say that," said Thule. He placed the disk on the table with
the bulk eraser away from the computers and went to get his toolbox.

When he returned, he extracted a claw hammer. Raising it over his
head, he brought it down on the disk as hard as he could. The disk
broke into three large pieces and some silver powder. Just for good
measures, he hit each of the three pieces, breaking them down further.

"Well," said Marigold. "That was emphatic."

Thule ran a hand through his hair, pulling it back from where it had
fallen into his face from the hammering and grinned at her. There must
have been something in the grin he hadn't meant to express because she
took a step back in alarm.

                                -=-

In the car on the way back to Marigold's house, Thule said, "All this
transferring of video files reminds me that there's a present for you
on the back seat."

Marigold climbed over the seat and came back with a small gift-wrapped
box. Her eyes glowed with pleasure, "Can I open it now?"

Thule nodded, smiling at her childlike joy.

Marigold tore off the wrapping, revealing a PC camera. She looked up
quizzically.

"With that," said Thule, "you'll be able to call me at home and see
me. It won't tie up your phone line, so you don't have to worry about
someone accidentally picking up another extension. Plus, I can watch
you sleep."

Marigold asked, "You would do that?"

Thule smiled, "I would like that."

They were in front of Marigold's house now. She hugged the box, then
slid it into her backpack, "Can I call you later if I have trouble
setting it up?"

"Of course," said Thule, getting out of the car to come around to her
side. He opened her door for her.

"Thule," asked Marigold, "you're not going to keep up the good
boyfriend routine, are you?"

"Actually," said Thule, "I need to talk to Jonas."

Marigold frowned, "I think I liked it better when you and my
stepfather were on opposite sides. You two being all chummy makes me
nervous."

Thule smiled, "If that were still the case, I would have had you home
two hours ago. And think of all the fun that we would have missed."

Marigold's smile just missed demure, "Oh, all right. How much does he
know anyway?"

Thule laughed, heading up the path, "More than I would like him to."
Marigold was forced to follow and, before she could formulate the next
question, Thule was standing at the front door, about to knock. Before
he could, the door opened.

"Hey, you two," said Jonas. "Am I interrupting anything?"

"No, sir," said Thule, "We were just about to say good night. But, if
you had a minute, I would like to talk to you about something."

Jonas nodded, "I'll get my jacket."

While he was gone, Thule kissed Marigold good night. Marigold started
to melt into the kiss, but Thule pulled back. As he expected, Jonas
appeared shortly thereafter. He bade Marigold good night and she
headed up the stairs.

"Walk with me," said Jonas as he crossed the porch.

Thule trotted a few steps to catch up. Jonas shrugged on his jacket.
Neither spoke until they were on the sidewalk, away from the house,
and in front of a wooded area.

"So," Jonas asked, "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Thule said, "I came up with something you can do to help me. I need
someone I can trust in case things go wrong."

"How wrong could they go?" Jonas asked. It was not a dismissive
question, but an earnest one.

Thule sighed, "The potential for havoc is unbounded. If I should wind
up...If something should happen to me, there's a safe in my room.
Inside of it is everything I've collected about all of the dirty
dealings going on in this town. I need you to get it to Officer
Richard Tulley in Perth Amboy."

"Perth Amboy is a long way away," said Jonas, "Why there?"

"Officer Tulley has a vested interest in seeing that the information
in there is used, although he doesn't know it yet. If you do this, I
recommend you make a copy of everything for yourself. There's a tech
in your company's IT department named John Xiu who also has a vested
interest in this case who can copy the computer media for you if you
need help."

Jonas pulled a small pad and pen from his pockets. Thule laid a
warning hand on this, "Don't write any of this down. I'll repeat it as
many times as you need. As far as I can tell, I've worked for three
years without anyone involved getting a whiff of this. I'd hate for
some scrap of paper to fall into the wrong hands and blow the whole
thing."

Jonas raised an eyebrow, but put pen and pad away. Reaching into his
jacket pocket, he came out with a half-full pack of Marlboro reds and
a lighter. He offered them to Thule. Thule waved them away, "Thanks,
but I quit a year ago."

Jonas lit himself a cigarette, "I quit six years ago. Took it up again
today. The more I started thinking about what you and Marigold are
involved in, the more I needed one."

Thule nodded, "If you want a secure place to keep all of the
information I'm going to give you, I can help you configure a PDA to
encrypt and secure it, but it's still important to keep it in your
head, in case something happens to the PDA."

Jonas took out the pad and pen again, "Is it all right if I write down
what sort of PDA to get?"

Thule snorted, then told him. Jonas took quick, efficient notes. Then,
putting away the pad, he pulled out his wallet. Searching through, he
came out with a business card, "If you need him, this is a criminal
defense attorney. He got my juvenile record sealed after I cleaned up
so that I could be an officer in a publicly-traded company. I've let
him know that he's to help you in whatever way he can."

Thule nodded gratefully, "Thank you."

"I thought of something else I can do to help you, but I need you to
take me into your confidences first," said Jonas.

"If I can," said Thule.

Jonas stopped walking. They were still alongside the road, but forest
stretched from horizon to horizon. He face Thule, took a long draw
from his cigarette, its tip burning incandescent in the darkness, then
asked, "Is Ivan Vandevoort one of your big sharks?"

Thule didn't answer. He walked a yard up the road, then back past
Jonas, then back again. Jonas offered him a cigarette again. This
time, he took it, lit it, and took a long draw before speaking.
Finally, he said, "You, Ivan Vandevoort, and Thom Gregory, Marigold's
father, were known as the Unholy Trinity in high school. You were
inseparable. Greg and Ivan were known for their womanizing, you for
your drug habit. Greg went to Harvard; you and Ivan stayed in town and
went to Farraghut University. You two were crown princes to your
respective family fortunes. You dated a girl named Holly Wentsworth,
who is Marigold's mother, your current wife and later Greg's sister,
Abigail. After you left Holly for Abigail, Ivan dated Holly. The first
time you were caught with heroin, it was Ivan who bailed you out. You
used his lawyer on your two subsequent arrests."

Thule took another drag. It seemed clear that he wasn't done and Jonas
did not interrupt. He went on, "When Thom got into his accident, he
asked you to take care of Holly and Marigold. Eighteen months later,
you were married. Six months after that, you became a born-again
Christian and began to take your job seriously. After Ivan, you are
the wealthiest man in a town crawling with millionaires. You and Ivan
have gone into partnership on three ventures. You have been approached
for partnerships in at least three other ventures, which you have
declined. At least two of those ventures were subsequently
investigated for some degree of malfeasance." He took a deep breath,
then a drag on the cigarette.

Jonas let out a low whistle, "That's pretty damned close to accurate
and displays a disturbing lack of data security on my end. But, I'm
not sure that it answers my question."

"It doesn't," admitted Thule, "It asks why I should answer that
question to someone who seems to have a history of friendship and
cooperation with Ivan Vandevoort."

Jonas dropped his cigarette and ground it out violently, "This is a
very strange town," he said, "Why did you tell me as much as you did
if you don't trust me?"

"I do trust you--as far as I can trust anyone," said Thule. "But, I'm
curious."

"If it's just idle curiosity..."

"It's not idle," said Thule, "I want to know if you're involved in
anything that would come out in an investigation of the Vandevoort
family."

Jonas shrugged, "My conscience is clean. Ivan's offered me eleven
business deals in total. I've turned down eight of them because they
smelled funny."

"Are you still friends?"

Jonas shook his head, "Not in a long time. After Thom chose me to
watch over his family instead of Ivan, Ivan did everything he could to
undermine that. He didn't really have any interest in Holly, but he
hated losing. Once he took over his father's company, I started to see
a lot of the ugliness he kept hidden. We do business because that's
business. How in the hell did you get all of that information anyway?
Some of it should never have left my office."

Thule chuckled, "For your high school internship program, add the
question 'Do you have a big mouth?' to the application."

"Damn," said Jonas lighting another cigarette. Then, he was deadly
serious, "I want to see Ivan go down. Between what he's done and what
he's covered up for his son, he deserves to go down hard."

Thule flicked his own cigarette out onto the macadam of the road,
"Randy Vandevoort and a girl named Brianne Orlean are my primary
targets. But, most of what I have on Randy indicts his father as
well."

Jonas said, "Listen, if you're interested, I have an idea how I can
help you, if you want it."

"I'm listening," said Thule.

Jonas outlined his plan. Thule listened. It was brilliant and
overwhelming in its simplicity. He whistled in admiration and awe,
"That's far more than I ever would have asked for. If you're willing
to do it, it could make a monumental difference."

"Answer me one question," said Jonas, "Why are you doing all of this?
Plenty of people have suffered in this town. Why you?"

"When I was fifteen," Thule said, "Randy Vandevoort raped my
girlfriend, Maya. Brianne set the whole thing up. I promised to
protect her and I couldn't. So, I promised to get back at them if I
could."

Jonas started walking slowly back towards the house. When it was clear
that Thule was following him, he said, "That's a hell of a
responsibility to take on at fifteen."

Behind him, Thule said, "I can't think of any time in my life I would
be more qualified. I've had three and a half years to plan and gather
information. I've had unrestricted access to my targets six hours a
day, five days a week. Come September, I'll be in college or working
full time. If not now, when?"

It was a rhetorical question and Jonas did not bother to answer it.
Instead, as they came up on Thule's car, he asked, "Is there anything
else you can think of that I can do?"

Thule gave a pained laugh, "I could use another cigarette."

                       -=-

When Thule got back in his car, the clock on his dashboard said 10:22
pm. He sighed as he decided with important tasks to let slide one more
day and which to take care of. Making a decision, he skipped the turn
that would lead to his house and kept driving until he found a big
24-hour drug stores that was practically a supermarket. After making
his purchase, he drove home. Checking his e-mail, he saw one from
Marigold near the top. She had gotten her PC camera to work and needed
to know how to set it up so Thule could watch her. He e-mailed
instructions back, assuming she had already gone to bed. But, a few
minutes later, an indicator popped up indicating that
TetheredLittleFlower wanted to establish a videoconference. Placing a
soda bottle cap over his camera's lens, he accepted. A jerky picture
of Marigold, dressed for bed, appeared.

He typed, "Hello, Marigold. Don't tell me you miss me already."

It took Marigold a few seconds to figure out how to respond, but then
she typed, "Of course. I can't see you, though. Did I do something
wrong?"

Thule typed, "No. I want to watch you sleep tonight. When we converse,
I will uncover the camera so that you can see me." He thought about
it, then added, "if the mood strikes me."

It seemed to take her a moment to digest this. Then, she typed, "Yes,
Thule. This is good night, then?"

"Yes," Thule typed, "I have one last thing I have to do tonight, but
then I'm going to sleep."

"If I'd known," typed Marigold, "I wouldn't have worn my schlumpy old
sweat pants."

"Take them off," typed Thule, "Take everything off. Few things make me
happier than watching you sleep naked."

Marigold nodded at the camera, then stripped down, doing a loose bump
and grind. Thule wondered if she'd actually seen a stripper do that or
if women just instinctively moved like that when stripping down for a
man's enjoyment. When she was completely naked, she came back and
typed, "Good night, Thule. Dream of me."

Thule typed, "Good night, Little Flower. Close the chat client before
you go to bed. It wouldn't do for someone to accidentally glance at
this conversation in the morning."

Marigold nodded again and Thule got a message "*** USER
TetheredLittleFlower has exited the chat room. ***." Then, Marigold
got up from her desk, turned the camera to face her bed, walked off
camera for a moment, then came back and laid down on top of the
covers, turned off the light, and seemed to fall asleep quickly.

Once she seemed to be sleeping, Thule laid a few pieces of newspaper
on the floor near the mass eraser, then rolled his desk chair over on
top of the newspaper. Watching Marigold's prone form on the monitor,
he stripped out of his clothes, plugged in the shaver he'd bought
tonight and began to give himself the only haircut he could with any
reasonable degree of professionalism. As he felt his long locks
falling down his body and onto the paper below, he felt like he was
preparing for war. Watching Marigold sleep on the screen, he knew what
he was fighting for.

Princes of Mannsborough, Chapter 9 of 22
by Vulgar Argot
(rom, MF, anal, voy)

--Vulgar Argot
  http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/VulgarArgot/www
--
"Vulgarity begins when imagination succumbs to the explicit."
  --Doris Day

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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