Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Strange Relationships
Part: 24
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A full-length novel that follows several young couples from Second
Best and their families.
Keywords: nosex

Keywords for full story:  rom, mf, MF, mmf, MFF, M+F, mm, F-solo, ir, D/s,
bdsm, mdom, spank, oral, anal, 1st, reluc, nc, voy

Strange Relationships

Copyright © Thinking Horndog, 2006 im_a_thinker@yahoo.com

Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. Reproduction for profit
is forbidden.  Any distribution must include this note and the author's
email address. Don’t be caught attempting to make a buck off me!

Warnings and disclaimers:

This is adult entertainment!  Be warned!  If you’re not into graphic
depictions of sex, this is the wrong story for you!  If you’re too young to
be legally reading this, move along!

This is a work of fiction.  It is not intended to reflect any particular
person or persons, and the incidents portrayed exist in their current form
solely in the writer’s imagination.  You get the idea.

Chapter 24
Various Interviews in a Hospital Room


	Tabitha started swimming toward consciousness around five-thirty.
It was slow going, at first because of the sedative, and after because her
mind shrank away from the wall of agony that being fully awake brought with
it.  Dumbjohn had kept her clothing; he'd tied her wrists behind her with a
plastic cable tie, but left her legs unfettered.  Also present was her
wooden brassiere -- her breasts were still nailed to the plywood and her
nipples were still pierced and stretched by the rubber bands.  Between the
dull agony of the nails and the sharper pain of the stressed piercings,
Tabitha would have welcomed a double mastectomy.  The alleyway road surface
was cold; it was in the mid-fifties, which is just a bit too cool to be good
for someone stretched out naked on the ground.  This added exposure to blood
loss from various wounds and debilitating pain.  On top of everything else,
the nail tips had bored shallow flesh-wounds in her ribs...

	Any movement made things worse.  The loss of the use of her hands
made attempting to sit up an agonizing, iffy process.  The gag was gone, but
pain robbed her of any ability to project her voice.  It was six forty-five
before anyone heard her plaintive cries for help; then came the obligatory
interminable delay for the police and the paramedics...

	The team in the ER had frankly never seen anything like it.  The
initial plan was to cut off the nail heads, but the roofing washers
protected them too well.  Besides, any grinding or sawing transmitted itself
to Tabitha.  The paramedics had removed the rubber bands, which brought
things down quite a bit as far as the pain went, but Tabitha was still
shocky.  Finally, they used a two by four and a couple of C-clamps to press
the tips of the nails back to something resembling flush with the plywood,
and pulled them with a claw hammer as Dumbjohn had.  They bandaged various
wounds, gave her a tetanus shot, and moved her up to the ward.  Tabitha
raised a ruckus over the needles, declaiming, "The fuckin' things are
pierced -- might as well leave 'em that way.  Git me somethin' to stick in
the holes before you pull the goddamn needles out!"  The nurse shrugged,
irrigated the piercings, and left the needles in place.

	After that came a short, useless interview with a police detective.
Both of them knew who was behind the attack, but both of them ALSO knew that
there was no way they'd be able to pin it on him -- and Tabitha said as
much,  "Even if we get the bastard did this, we won't pin it on the asshole
who ordered it.  This muthafuckah was good, too -- you ain't catchin' HIM,
either!"  The cop nodded and shrugged, took her statement, and left.

	Nate got the word at school; when he left home that morning, he was
unconcerned, since his Mama had been known to stay out for days when she
felt like it.  So when Principal Hollenbeck's voice over the intercom
interrupted Industrial Arts class with, "Please send Nate Adams to my
office," Nate looked up, frowned, and muttered, "I ain't done nothin'..."
Coach Johnson scribbled him a hall pass and nodded toward the door; for him,
the jury was still out over whether Nate had done anything or not.

	This wasn't Nate's first visit with the Principal by any means, but
the secretary was missing her usual look of irritation when she noted his
presence.  She buzzed the Principal on the intercom, "Nate Adams is here."

	"Send him in."

	'What?  No stewin' in the hall first?' Nate wondered, as he strode
to the door.  He opened it and Mr. Hollenbeck, on the phone, waved him into
a seat.  Nate settled warily.

	In a moment, Mr. Hollenbeck pinched of the call and looked up.
"Son, I have bad news."

	"I ain't done nothing."

	"Anything."

	"I ain't done anything."

	Hollenbeck rolled his eyes.  "That's not at issue, here."  He
sighed.  "I called you in because the police called me, looking for you;
your mother was attacked last night."

	"Shit."  Nate studied the floor.  So, it had finally gone down.
Mama'd been lucky for quite a while...  "She dead?"

	"No, but she's hospitalized.  She was rather thoroughly raped, and
pretty fiendishly tortured, I'm told.  The police said that she's going to
recover, but she had exposure, some wounds, blood loss...  You should go on
up to the hospital and see her.  I told them that you were here as usual,
and their interest in you as a suspect dropped off."  Hollenbeck eyed Nate.
"I take it that she didn't come home last night."

	Nate shrugged. "Night before, either.  She runs with a rough bunch.
Lotsa times, I see her when I see her."

	"I see."  Hollenbeck sighed.  Having had to chase her on occasion
when Nate was in trouble for something, he was aware that she 'worked
nights', and had a pretty good idea what Ms. Adams did for a living...  "I'm
going to excuse you so that you can go to the hospital.  Call me if you need
to be out tomorrow."

	"Uh, thank you, Sir."  Nate got up and handled Hollenbeck his hall
pass to receive the proper signoffs.

	"Good luck, Son."

	"Uh, thanks."  Neither of the pair was used to dealing with the
other amicably, so both were oddly uncomfortable at the parting.  As the
door closed, Hollenbeck picked up the phone to call the police detective,
wondering if relating the contents of the interview with him was entrapment.
Apparently, it wasn't in Nate's case; while the boy seemed unsurprised that
his mother might be attacked in general, it was also pretty clear that he
hadn't expected anything last night in particular...

	Nate went back to IA and gathered up his things.  Coach eyed him
warily, so he displayed the Principal's note.  "Goin' home.  Family
problem."  He cleared out and went to his locker, dumping his stuff and
collecting his coat.  Second period was about over, anyway, so he headed
over to the English Department to catch Nora as she popped out of class.
His timing was just about perfect; the bell rang as he arrived at the door.

	Nora sensed trouble as soon as she looked at him.  "Honey, what's
up?"

	"Gotta go to the hospital.  Somebody beat the shit out of Mama."
Nate looked seriously off his feed.  Things were settling in.  The shock was
over and he was off automatic, actually thinking about it.

	"Want me to go, too?"

	"Nah.  This was always somethin' that could happen.  It just never
has, before.  I'll go get a look and call you."

	"Okay.  If you need anything, let me know.  Maybe I can come up at
lunch."  Nora was worried for Nate; he was starting to look kind of pasty
grey.

	"Okay.  I'll call you when I know more."  Nora bussed him on the
cheek and he returned it, then turned away, distracted.

	Nora watched him go, troubled, then got a move on, headed for her
next class.  At her locker, it suddenly occurred to her that this might be
related to the attack on her mother, so Nora snatched her phone out of her
purse and called the newest number programmed into it.

	"Wilson."

	"Daddy?"

	"Nora?"

	"Daddy, somebody beat up Nate's mother last night.  She's in the
hospital.  You don't think..."

	Armand blinked.  The obvious answer was 'No', but he couldn't afford
to BE that obvious.  Besides, this was going to be an issue with Nora and
her boyfriend.  "I doubt it -- Nate's mother is in a somewhat dangerous
profession, so it is probably unrelated.  But I'll have an investigation
started."

	"Thanks, Daddy."

	"Thank YOU, Daughter.  Good thinking."  Armand hung up.  It gave him
an odd glow that she should come to him for support...  "Get me
Witherspoon," he directed his secretary, Charlene.

                         --------------------

	It took forty-five minutes for Nate to get to the hospital and run
down his mother's room.  He blew off the gift shop, figuring seeing her
sooner was better than coming later with something stupid in his hands.
Women were weird, but maybe not THAT weird...  "Mama?"

	"Nate?"  Tabitha sat up.  " 'Bout time..."

	"I was in school..."  She didn't LOOK that bad...  "You okay?  I
figured..."

	"Most of it don't show," his mother replied.  "He fucked up my ass
and my pussy on the insides, and he did this..."  She flipped down the
covers to expose her bandaged breasts.

	Nate looked -- and couldn't see much.  They were all bandaged...
"What'd he do?"

	"Nailed 'em to a board," his mother replied flatly.  "An' he pierced
the nipples, too.  Oh, an' this..."  She stuck out her tongue.  "Forgot to
mention that to the docs."

	"Shit!"  Nate shook his head.  "Who was it?"

	"Dunno," Tabitha grunted.  "Professional.  This guy's fucked up
women before."

	There was a tap on the door.  "Can I listen in?"  There was a
muscular white guy, forty or so, with a mustache, there.

	"You a cop?" Tabitha asked suspiciously.

	"Nope, P I.  But looks to me like you were on the right side of the
law for this one..."

	"I cain't hire no private investigators.  Run along..."

	"I work for Armand Wilson."

	That got the man two amazed looks.  "Say what?" Tabitha blurted.

	"Mr. Wilson keeps the firm I work for on retainer.  Given the
relationship between your son and his daughter, he would like us to see if
we can't discover who did this and get you a little payback, if not
'justice'."  The man put quote marks around the term with his fingers.
"There is the possibility that this was meant as an attack on him, as his
ex-wife was also attacked yesterday -- but even if the attacks are unrelated
we're prepared to bring resources to bear to discover the perpetrators that
aren't too closely fettered by the law..."

	Tabitha shook her head.  "I will be dipped in shit..."

	Nate scratched his head.  "Yeah, I see that."  Turning to his
mother, he amplified, "Three guys pretending to be plumbers showed up at
Nora's Mama's place and stuck dicks in her about everywhere.  They moved
back in with her Daddy last night."

	"They fuck her up?" Tabitha asked.

	"Nope, jus' fucked her.  Three at a time was kinda new, though."

	Tabitha cackled, winced, and turned to the investigator.  "So, what
do I call ya?"

	"Paul.  Paul Matheson."  The PI came forward and extended a hand.

	Tabitha took it, but she watched his eyes.  "Okay, what d'ya wanta
hear?"

	"Everything."  Matheson took out a tape recorder.  "Whatever you
told the cops, and whatever else is relevant.  I don't care what you were
doing, for instance.  Well, I want to know, but I'm not going to be
judgmental."  He grinned.

	Tabitha nodded warily.  "Okay.  You know what I do, right?"

	Matheson was up-front.  "Prostitute, right?"

	"Yeh.  I got a strip of sidewalk off the corner of Fourteenth and
Womack.  Mebbe nine o'clock, the john wheels around the corner.  Nice
car..."

	"Make?"

	"Ummmm, Beemer, I think.  German.  Anyway, I wave the merchandise
and he pulls up an' rolls down the window, an' we start negotiating."

	"What did he look like?"

	"Average.  Wasn't nothin' special 'bout him, anywhere.  Nice suit.
Thinning hair.  Forty, maybe.  Acted like he knew basically what the plan
was, but he'd never actually done it, so I got ready to whip my higher price
list on him.  Then, no warning, he sucker-punches me."  She shook her head.
"When I woke up later, I had a needle mark; dunno how long I was out.  This
guy was a pro.  He had everything laid out, everything planned.  I was in
some basement, somewhere -- I think."

	"What could you see?"

	"Dark room, cement walls, wood floor.  Well, there was wood
everywhere I could see.  There was tile behind me -- a big, open shower, I
guess.  I never saw it, but he said sumpthin' 'bout tile an' a drain durin'
the enema."

	"Enema?" Nate echoed.

	"Yeah.  Lemme get through this in one pass, Boy, an' we can go back
for loose shit after!"  She leaned back.  "Ummm.  I was bent over a
sawhorse, an' my arms an' legs was tied to it.  Couldn't see behind me under
the sawhorse 'cause there was a hunk of plywood tacked to it.  He said
sumpthin' 'bout my luck runnin' out -- like I didn't know THAT -- an'
mumbled sumpthin' 'bout I shoulda had a pimp.  I got feisty with him an' he
slapped the shit outta me, 'bout a half-dozen times.  While my head was
spinnin', he stuck this dentist's gadget between my jaws, an' jacked 'em
wide open."  Tabitha paused.  "Boy, would you get me some water outta that
pitcher, there?"  She nodded at the tray table against the wall.

	"Sure."  Nate collected a paper cup, poured, and handed it to his
mother.

	Tabitha thanked him with her eyes while she gulped down several
swallows.  As Nate took the cup to refill it, she continued her tale,
"Anyway, I was fucked -- couldn't hardly talk.  Bastard announced that he
liked blowjobs from women wit' their tongues pierced.  He got a hold of my
tongue with some tongs and stuck a big fucking needle through it, then
replaced it with this..."  She stuck out her tongue.  "Hurt like Hell, an'
you could tell he was milkin' it for that.  He squirted some shit in my
mouth -- said it was Listerine, alcohol, an' salt -- an' got a big kick
outta me yellin' at the pain."

	"Big needle?" Matheson asked his first question since the start.
"How big?"

	"Say, this long?"  Tabitha measured out about four and a half
inches.  Paul looked dubious, and Tabitha grunted.  "Awright, you two help
me wit' this wrap..."

	Paul stepped forward, not knowing why, and Nate got the clips from
the Ace bandage wrapped around Tabitha's saggy bust.  The two of them took
up positions on either side of the bed and handed the roll to each other for
the six passes it took to get down to gauze padding.  Tabitha lifted packing
from her nipples, revealing the needles still piercing them.  " 'Bout THAT
long."

	Nate's eyes bugged.  Tabitha glared at him challengingly and said,
"Since the bastard did 'em, I might as well keep 'em.  Get me somethin'
proper to replace these fuckin' things, willya?  Damned ER docs wouldn't put
in anything -- I had to piss an' moan to get 'em to leave these for now."

	Matheson was non-plussed.  "Sorry I disbelieved you.  Some people's
perceptions get distorted at times like this..."

	" 'S'okay."  Tabitha waved it off.  "While we're here..."  She
peeled the surgical tape off the wound on the upper side of her left breast,
grimacing.  "He did THAT with a big fuckin' nail -- nailed 'em both to the
plywood!  Cops got pictures..."  Nate was weaving a little.  "Siddown, boy,
before ya fall down.  It's over, an' I guess I'm gonna make it.  Let's get
this shit put back together before a fuckin' nurse shows up..."

	The rewrap wasn't as professional-looking as the original, but it
did the job.  Tabitha resumed, "Anyway, then he like to drowned me, rinsing
my mouth wit' a garden hose.  Fucker was enjoyin' hisself.  Then he put a
ring gag on me.  You know what a ring gag is, don'tcha?"  Matheson, somewhat
embarrassed, nodded.  "Well, this 'un was special.  He had a buncha rings,
an' he custom fitted it, like.  Then he stuck a rubber stopper in it, an' he
snapped this strap over that to keep me from pushin' it out wit' my tongue.
Like THAT was gonna happen...  Anyway, the thing also had a flat ring of
thin rubber on it, bigger than my mouth.  Sonofabitch pinched my nose, an' I
couldn't breathe through the mess!  Thought I was gonna die!  Fucker waited
til I wasn't hardly there before he let up..."

	Tabitha nodded toward the water, and Nate handed her the cup.  After
a sip, she continued, "Then he went 'round back.  Oh, he pulled the stopper
out so he could listen to me makin' noise -- he said as much."  She grunted.
"Big joke was he was cleanin' me up -- that was his excuse for a bunch of
shit...  He sucked up some stuff in a big bulb, like an ear bulb -- soap, I
think.  I hope to fuck it was soap!  And he shot it in my ass.  THEN, he
took this cone tip, screwed it on a garden hose, an' poured I don't fucking
know HOW much cold goddamned water in my ass!"  She shivered, remembering.
"It was soooo cold...  My stomach felt like it swelled up to where it was
when I was eight months out with Nate..."  She shivered again.  "He pulled
it out an' I probly shot shit forty feet -- but I was out of it.  The
cold..."  She shook herself.  "Oh, yeah.  Bastard was makin' a video!  He
had a camera on my ass while he pumped that shit in, an' he pulled a TV over
in front of me so I could watch!"  She hung her head.  "An' I couldn't look
away..."  She shook herself.  "Cramps was awful.  I fuckin' passed out
watchin' shit squirt everywhere..."  She shook her head.  "I THINK he did me
again, with warmer water, but I ain't sure.  All I know is when I woke up
when he threw some water in my face, an' I was warm again an' it felt like
some time had gone by..."

	Matheson was shaking his head.  "Pretty wild..."

	"Gets worse," Tabitha asserted.  "Sumbitch shoved a bottle brush up
my twat an' went to town with the fuckin' thing!  I think he scraped all the
lining outta my pussy!  And THEN, the fucker took a turkey baster and shot
alcohol up there!  Jeezus fuckin' Christ!  I passed out again, sometime in
there, but came to pretty quick."  She sipped from the cup.  "Fucker decided
I was clean, so he came around an' stuck his cock in my mouth through the
gag, wantin' head.  But I couldn't work -- God knows I didn't feel like
screwing around with the muthafuckah! -- the goddamned ring gag and the
tongue stud got in the fuckin' way.  He got all pissed off, an' said I was
fuckin' around on him; next thing I know, he's standin' there with a hammer
and a bunch of big fuckin' nails..."  She gathered herself, took a breath.
"He nailed the left one, an' it hurt like fuck -- then he starts talkin'
'bout what'd happen if things didn't get better.  I dunno how I did it, but
I managed to get across the idea that I'd do better without the fuckin' gag.
He pulled it an' mumbled sumpthin' 'bout next I'd want my hands, an' I got
stupid an' agreed with him.  He decided that if he nailed BOTH my tits down,
an' put big fuckin' washers under the heads so I couldn't pull free, he
could let go my arms.  At that point, I was tryin' like Hell to back pedal,
but..."  She shook her head.  "He did the right one, then he pulled the left
one back OUT to put a washer on it.  Felt AWFUL -- I puked my guts out!
Goin' back in wasn't no picnic, neither..."

	Matheson shook his head.  This was the damnedest thing he'd ever
heard, in twenty-plus years of detective work.  "Jesus."

	"Funny, he let up an' wandered off for a while, an' I managed to get
sorta used to it.  When he came back, he wanted that blowjob -- an' I made
DAMNED sure he got what he wanted, I can tell you!  He didn't shoot in me,
tho -- kinda squeezed hisself off -- instead he went 'round back an' shot
some more alcohol in my pussy, and started humpin' away.  Felt like he was
pushin' around ground glass in there, but he tol' me if I didn't get him
off, he'd find sumpthin' else to do...  I got humpin' -- I jus' couldn't
take nuthin' else!"  She sipped from the cup.  "I got him off, so he came
'round and shoved it in my mouth to get it goin' again, which took some
work, but I managed it.  So he goes around to do my ass an' he picks up some
lube -- but the muthafuckah was usin' Ben-Gay!  Then he put on another
rubber an' pounds away -- I fuckin' lost it, totally; it was jus' too
fuckin' much!"

	"Shit, I guess!"  This recitation was frankly unbelievable -- except
for the fact that Matheson was absolutely certain the woman wasn't lying!

	Tabitha nodded.  "When I woke up, he'd put that fuckin' gag in
again, an' he re-tied my hands.  Then he started talkin' 'bout makin'
improvements on me, an' next thing I know, here he come with the fuckin'
needle again!  He did my left nipple, then he started fuckin' with me,
enjoyin' it while he scared me with the fuckin' needle.  Finally, he does
the right, an' I kinda figure, okay, what's next, fer chrissakes?  An' he
takes a coupla rubber bands an' loops 'em over the needles, then stretches
'em under the board an' over the nail tips!  It was fuckin' gawdawful -- I
couldn't hardly handle it!  I wasn't even payin' any attention when he shut
off my nose again...  I remember him sayin' sumpthin' 'bout it bein' time to
say goodbye, now, but it didn't even register, then...  Woke up in an alley,
buck naked, with my hands tied behind my back an' my tits still nailed to
the plywood an' the goddamned rubber bands still on...  Somebody had to call
the paramedics, 'cause I was all cold an' couldn't move..."

	Nate was beyond words.  Matheson shook his head.  "Any idea who did
this?"

	Tabitha shook her head.  "The guy wore a mask in the basement, so I
don' even know if it was the same guy that clocked me -- but I think it was.
He was fuckin' perfect -- there was nothin' 'bout him that stuck out, no
warning I was in the shit.  As for who ordered it, I'm pretty sure of that,
but there ain't never gonna be no evidence."

	"Yeah?  Who?"

	"Rodday," Tabitha grunted.  "Rodney Pinkham.  Pimp tryin' to sew up
downtown.  This got his mark all over it -- 'sides, he came by to fuck with
me the other day..."  She ruminated a moment.  "Maybe I AM lucky -- somebody
else mighta jus' fuckin' killed me or cut off a tit or sumpthin'."

	"I'm going to get right on this," Matheson assured her.  "I'll be
getting back to you.  Ummm, if you'd sign this form, I can get stuff from
the cops..."

	Tabitha eyed him suspiciously.  "This ain't gonna cost me, is it?  I
don' know how I'm gonna pay for THIS place..."

	"Mr. Wilson has already ordered this and agreed to pay.  After
hearing your tale, I'd have been tempted to look for this animal for free!
Some things go beyond money..."  He shook his head.

	"You catch him, I wanna hold his fuckin' balls in my hand again..."
She squeezed her fist together.  She took the paper, glanced at it briefly,
and inked her signature to it.

	"What about Rodday?  What if he ordered it?"

	"Fucker's worse -- I'd rather do HIM than the guy he hired to do the
work!  But of course, the fucker is untouchable...  An' if I can get my shit
to workin' again, I'll probly end up workin' for the fuckin' bastard."

	"Well, you never know," Matheson replied.  "Any number of things
could happen to Mr. Pinkham if we can tie the job to him.  And some of them
might not be strictly legal..."

	"You do sumpthin' 'bout Rodday, an' I might have to move in wit' ya
-- be the easiest way to give ya free pussy fer life..."  Tabitha grinned,
and Matheson chuckled.

	"We'll see," he replied, and picked up Nate with his eyes.  "I'll be
in touch when I have something."  Outside in the hall, he told Nate, "Your
Mama's pretty fucking impressive.  I'm going to pass this to Mr. Wilson,
right away, and I have no doubt that there will be a team on this.  This is
absolute bullshit."

	"Not to be a fuckin' asshole, but why would he care?" Nate asked.
"It's just the kind of shit goes down downtown..."

	Matheson's eyes twinkled.  "Well, you're family, kind of, aren't
you?  Mr. Wilson doesn't take kindly to that kind of thing."

	"Huh.  Really?"

	"Really."  Matheson turned, then looked back.  "I meant what I said
about doing it for free, too.  Some things just go too far."

	Nate shrugged.  "Mama was right -- some folk would've just killed
her."

	Matheson nodded.  "True.  In some ways that might have been better.
Does your mother ever fuck for fun?"

	"Dunno.  We don't talk about it."  Nate shrugged.

	"After this, she probably won't.  Even worse, she might not be able
to in order to make a living, either.  She's tough, but she could probably
use a few sessions with a shrink -- which you can't afford...  Rodday may
have sentenced her to a slow death."

	Nate sighed.  "That ain't really no different.  I been waitin' for
the drugs to kill her since I was knee high..."

	"And it hasn't happened.  Know why?  She's tough, that's why.  But
if she can't use her money-maker..."

	"Yeh."  Nate got it.

	"You'd be in trouble, too -- but you aren't, the way things are
right now."

	"Maybe, maybe not.  Me an' Nora -- that's love, not money."

	Matheson grinned tightly.  "Sometimes, you hit the lottery.  You've
got the right attitude.  Don't ride it, and try to pay back where you can.
But take what you have to -- Mr. Wilson can spare it.  Gotta go -- I want
those pictures.  Call Nora -- she'll be worried."  He strode off down the
hall.

	Nate went back into his mother's hospital room.  "What'd he say?"
Tabitha wanted to know.

	Nate grinned.  "Said you was tough as old boot leather.  Talked big
shit about puttin' a bunch of people on this.  Said this thing might fuck
with your head -- screw you up so you can't work."

	Tabitha's eyes narrowed.  "I'll be a lot more cautious -- THAT's for
sure!"

	Nate raised an eyebrow.  "Too cautious?"

	Tabitha glared.  If you were too cautious, you lost customers.  And
income.  And...  "Bastard might be right."

	"He ain't expecting no free pussy, either," Nate added, "although I
bet he wouldn't turn it down..."

	"Well, THAT's out for a while, the Doc says, an' blowjobs don' pay
too well...  I kinda hope to fuck this thing in my tongue is a drawing
card." Tabitha sighed.  "Gotta try to get outta here tomorrow -- there goes
the grocery money, for about six months..."

	Nate sighed.  "I'm gonna call Nora and see what they got in the gift
shop for them holes.  Awright?"

	"Yeh.  I wanna nap a bit, while the pain meds allow it.  Git outta
here."

	Nate kissed her cheek, anyway.  The pair of them weren't any too
demonstrative, but she WAS his mother...  The hospital had all of those
stupid rules about cell phones, despite the fact that the nurses were all
using wireless laptops to record vitals in patient records (morons!) so Nate
had to step outside to call.  Nora's cell wasn't on, since the school was
bitchy about such things, too, so he left a message, "Mama's fine,
basically, but she was fucked with pretty bad.  Some dude came in claiming
your Daddy sent him an' Mama poured it all out.  It like to made my hair all
stand out straight -- you gotta hear it!  Mebbe you can come by after
school...  Love ya!"  Nate hated leaving messages -- seemed like he always
sounded like a dork...  He headed off to the gift shop.

	Matheson went downstairs and tried to get the ER team on duty;
fortunately, the seven to three shift had seen the action.  They didn't have
the plywood or nails -- the police took them for evidence -- but someone had
taken digital pictures and Matheson talked an orderly out of one.  It was
pretty spectacular; everyone in the ER was buzzing about it.  There was a
newspaper reporter snooping around, but he was having a hard time finding a
way to portray the whole thing properly in print; since Tabitha was a
hooker, she couldn't get too much sympathy from a policy point of view, and
they couldn't print the pictures -- which MADE the story -- because little
old ladies and various moral windbag types would be squicked.

	Next, Matheson went to talk to his police contact, who came up with
the file pretty quickly.  "This thing already in the dead file?" Matheson
asked.

	"We gave it to a young sucker this morning, but he's already put it
in the bottom of his in box -- aside from circulating the pics, which are
pretty wild," the cop admitted, shrugging.  "We know who ordered it --
Rodday Pinkham has been making hay with it with other holdout whores all
day, and there's a tale out there that there is a video -- but the guy who
actually did it is a pro.  There have been a couple of other, sort of
similar cases, here and in a couple of towns to the north and west, but no
one has ever gotten a grip on the guy.  Besides, the bitch is alive, and
aside from some puncture wounds, okay.  Viewed that way, she's damned lucky,
and it's not worth a homicide-level investigation.  Given what she does..."
He shrugged again.

	"Well, the external stuff is superficial, but she might never want
to fuck again," Matheson hazarded.

	The cop's eyebrows went up.  "And that makes her different from my
wife -- how?"  The pair chuckled.

	Matheson went to the office and prepared his initial report,
complete with Tabitha's audio description, a transcript, and the pictures,
and got it to the day supervisor, who took one look at the pics, listened to
thirty second's worth of audio, and kicked it up to Witherspoon.

	The whole mess was on Armand Wilson's desk by two p.m.  "You will
make every effort to confirm Pinkham's involvement," he directed.  "And you
will identify who he reports to and what his alliances are with the local
organizations.  I will want to know who I am dealing with when I discuss
this with him.  I am also interested in discovering the identity of his
agent -- but Pinkham may provide me with that directly, given the proper
incentives."  Jason, hovering nearby, grinned his shark's grin while
Witherspoon acknowledged his instructions; the words were innocuous, but
Rodday was in for some time in the playroom, quite probably.  "Oh, and if
there IS a video -- and the evidence says there is -- I want it."

	"Yes, Sir."

	Armand hung up and turned to Jason.  "Inform our medical insurer
that both Tabitha Adams and her son are employees with full benefits,
effective day before yesterday.  The current hospitalization is to be
covered."

	"Yes, Sir."  Jason scribbled notes.

	"Jorge is to pick up my daughter after school and come here to
collect me, whereupon we will depart for the hospital."

	"Yes, Sir."  Jorge was picking up and delivering, anyway, until the
busing issues involved in the change of address were ironed out with the
school.

	"And find a work crew for Nate -- delivery -- he needs income."
Dismissed, Jason left.

                         --------------------

	"Omigod!" Nora exclaimed.  The picture of Nate's mom taken in the
alley by the police was incredibly graphic.  "It's awful!"

	"Hmmmm.  Well, I've done similar things, but I don't think I've done
that many to one person in a single scene," her father remarked blandly,
"and MY play partners consent to their treatment.  Still, it's
impressive..."

	"Oh?" Nora eyed her father archly.  "ALL of them?  Mom, too?"

	Armand eyed his daughter blandly.  "You know the answer to that.
Your mother's noises are just that -- noises.  She gives lip service to what
she's been told is proper behavior, but her REAL tastes reveal themselves
regularly."

	"You trained her to do that!" Nora objected.

	"Well, yes," Armand agreed, "but the latency, the capacity, was
there from the first day that I confronted her in High School.  I but
released the slave in her -- I didn't create it."

	Nora eyed her father sidelong.  "I won't argue.  Do you have any
idea how you're going to handle things now that you have what you want?"

	Armand actually looked bothered, for the first time in their short
acquaintance.  "Er, no, actually.  There are a great number of questions.
I'm going to have to proceed slowly.  Your mother may never become the
dilettante that I am -- but I would like to see her experience broadened.  I
don't foresee us being re-married, but I can't decide whether I should
resume attracting toys...  I'm going to resume using her, perhaps more often
-- but what that means as far as her status in the household isn't clear,
yet..."

	"What is MY status, Daddy?"

	"That is much clearer, Daughter.  You are a free woman, perhaps the
only one in My household.  Young Bianca is also free, but she remains her
mother's child..."

	"You need to end this thing of her serving the Wench, Daddy.  It's
not right."

	"Perhaps.  But they're friends, now, anyway.  It won't stop Bianca
from seeking the Wench out as a friend."

	Nora shrugged.  "What about Jason and her mother?"

	Armand chuckled.  "However much it horrifies Jason when he thinks
about it, the pair are becoming quite domestic.  And Jason is acting in loco
parentis where Bianca is concerned, quite honorably.  I will be watching to
ensure that doesn't change, but frankly, I don't expect it to..."

	"What about the mistreatment?" Nora asked.

	"Is that what it is?" Armand countered.  "I'm not certain that
either of them would share your opinion, Daughter."

	Nora held her peace.  Daddy might be right.

	At noon, Nora had checked her voicemail to find Nate's invitation,
and then at two-fifteen, before she got out of class, she'd gotten another
from Daddy, outlining their itinerary.  Well, it worked for her...  Now,
they were pulling up before the hospital.  "Why are you here, Daddy?  I know
I asked you to look into this, but..."

	"I'm uncertain that I can explain it, Daughter.  There is something
in this affair that I find... repellent... even though I have done certain
similar things before.  The fact that you and Nate are dating make this
almost a family matter, and instinct tells me I'm involved, somewhere..."

                         --------------------

	Nate was thrilled to see Nora, but less so to see her father -- the
guy was just scary!  Still, there he was...  "Mama, this is Nora, and this
is her Daddy..."

	Tabitha sized up the girl with a glance, but her father demanded
more attention.  "You be Armand Wilson?  Howcum you're here?" she asked
suspiciously.

	"Nora suggested that I have your little incident investigated.  I
find it pretty amazing, in some ways." Armand replied.  He tossed a packet
on the bed.  "You were a mess when you came in this morning."

	Tabitha opened the packet.  Nate, looking over her shoulder, gasped.
"Jeezus!"

	Tabitha looked at the pictures and looked up.  "Wasn't no fun, but
I'm alive..."

	"Yes," Armand agreed.  "That's one of the unique things about it.
It's compelling, but the physical damage isn't anything you wouldn't have
survived.  The man that did this was an expert."

	Tabitha eyed Armand sidelong.  "Mebbe I'm talkin' outta turn, but I
hear you're an expert, too..."

	Armand chuckled.  Feisty bitch, this Tabitha Adams!  "True.
Although I don't think I've ever applied so many techniques in the same
scene.  I think that what bothers me about this is that most, if not all, of
my victims enter my clutches of their own free will -- and they suffer
whatever indignities I dish out as the result of a clear choice.  While you
perhaps chose to resist this pimp, I don't think you saw this coming -- and
I find it less than proper that he should send another to do something that
he wouldn't do himself."

	"Well, he's gonna get away with it...  Guess I shoulda checked wit'
YOU first, before tellin' him I was under your protection."

	Armand got positively predatory.  "You told him that?"

	Tabitha gulped.  This bastard was MEAN!  "Yeh.  Not by name, but I
tol’ him I was covered, heavy."

	"Then it's personal.  You ARE under my protection, now.  The fact
that he felt free to ignore me leaves me no choice but to backdate said
protection to the moment you uttered the statement.  And THAT means that Mr.
Pinkham and I are going to have what will be for him a very uncomfortable
interview..."  Lightning appeared to flash in Armand's dark eyes.  "You'll
owe me for this, one way or another, but I don't allow such challenges to
slip past."  He pondered a moment.  "You realize that Rodday is gambling
that you'll have been totally vanquished by his bullying and that you'll
leave the hospital a vocal convert.  He's also no doubt counting upon the
fact that he has damaged your ability to earn income, making it necessary
for you to crawl begging to him for support, which he will magnanimously
supply.  That's how I'd do it."  Tabitha nodded.  "There are possible
psychological issues inherent in such abuse.  Do you think you're going to
be able to resume sexual activity when you're healed?"

	Tabitha sucked her teeth, thinking.  "Yeh, I think so.  I'm gonna be
a lot more cautious 'bout customers, though."

	"From the transcripts of your interview today with my operative, the
attacker gave you no hint as to his intentions, though, did he?  Is it fair
to say that you're going to be spooked?"

	Shit, this fucker was smart!  "Yeh, mebbe."

	"That's an issue."  Armand paused.  "You will stay here the rest of
the week, and heal.  I'll have my staff gynecologist follow your case.
You'll see him tomorrow morning at the latest."

	"Cain't.  No money fer this place."

	"You'll do as I say, because I'm paying for it.  Both you and your
son are employees of Wilson Enterprises, effective yesterday -- with full
health benefits.  In your case, what I'm going to do with you is open to
question -- but you're a valuable property, in your way.  In yours," he
turned to regard Nate, "you're to start working on a distribution crew, part
time.  My man Jason will contact you with particulars.  This has nothing to
do with your mother -- I'm offering you an honest method of supporting the
financial aspects of your relationship with my daughter.  Understood?"

	"Yessir."

	"Excellent.  I want you to put on some weight," he told Tabitha.
"Your recreational drug use hasn't improved your ability to earn a living at
your chosen profession, but it hasn't killed you either.  That tells me
you're iron-willed, and not a true addict.  I want you to leave the hospital
in visibly better shape than you were in on, say, Saturday night; it will
help undermine Pinkham.  In the meantime, I will take whatever other actions
I deem necessary to render Rodday ineffectual, depending upon what his
alliances and support structure looks like.  I'm disinclined to go looking
for this professional, at this point in time -- he was following
instructions, even if he enjoyed them.  I'm sure you understand."

	"Well, I'd like to kick him in the balls, but I'm alive."

	"At some point, maybe we'll turn the tables on him -- but not now.
He's good; therefore, he'll be wary, especially once he discovers that his
employer has crossed someone and is paying for it.  It'll be easier to find
him when he's lowered his guard."  He nodded at Tabitha's bandaged breasts.
"What he did to you was visually spectacular, and very painful, but in BDSM
they call breasts 'fun bags', because they take a lot of punishment and
provide a lot of pain without permanent damage.  At some point, perhaps
we'll look into plastic surgery for the scars..."  He returned his attention
to Nate.  "You'll bring Nora home?"

	"Yessir."

	"Good.  I'll make my departure, then.  Get well, Tabitha.  Maybe
when you get out I'll put YOU in charge of prostitution in this town..."
Armand swept out.

	Tabitha's eyes swept to Nora.  "Your old man's a fuckin' trip!"

	Nora shook her head.  "He certainly is.  I didn't have any real idea
until last week.  He's always been a force of nature at my house, even
though I'd never dealt with him directly.  I don't think this guy Rodday is
going to be very happy when he looks back on this..."

	Tabitha grunted.  She wasn't placing any bets, either way.  "C'mere,
girl."  Nora did so.  "Turn around."  Nora did this, too, but favored Nate
with a frown.  "Big ass on her."

	"I LIKE ass!" Nate grated.

	Tabitha turned her attention back to Nora.  "What the fuck you want
wit' my boy?  He ain't no Ken doll...  Wit' your old man you can get jus'
'bout anything, I figger..."

	Nora stood there a moment, fuming, then regarded Nate's mother
levelly.  "I saw potential in him.  Daddy sees potential in YOU!  I think
that probably makes me right..."  She paused.  "Daddy didn't actively enter
my sex life until I had one -- and that's been with Nate.  And, basically,
aside from doing what a lot of daddies do -- telling him he'd better do
right by me, or else -- he's stayed out of things."

	"Why Nate?  What would a rich bitch like you want a bruthuh fo'?
'Cept maybe as a toy..."

	Nora got visibly angry.  "I'm not a rich bitch!  Or, at least, I
didn't THINK I was.  Prior to Nate, I got NO attention from boys -- except
maybe ridicule for my ass!  Okay, I had a fantasy -- but we got past that on
our first date!  Nate and I... click.  A lot of people seem to have this
thing about our skin color, one way or another.  Fuck 'em!  Nate's MINE!"
She blushed.  "And I'm his..."

	Tabitha shifted her regard to her son.  "You paddled that ass yet?"

	"Huh?  No!  Well, a little, in play."  Nate looked furtive.

	"Better think 'bout doin' it serious.  You gonna be pussy-whipped;
you got no shot at all.  Better have a fall-back plan fer holdin' SOME
territory!"  Tabitha grinned, turning back to Nora.  "Okay, you'll do -- not
that I can do a fuckin' thing 'bout it anyway.  'Sides, boy's settlin' down,
visibly.  Probly good pussy..."

	Nora regarded the black woman archly.  "Well, I'm not complaining,
either."

	Nate circled behind Nora and wrapped his arms around her waist,
pulling her back to lean against him.  Now that the possibility of a
catfight seemed to have disappeared, he could afford to side with one of
them.  Apropos of nothing, he changed the subject, "I couldn't find anything
for your, uh, piercings, Mama."

	"Piercings?" Nora blinked.

	Tabitha picked up a photograph and pointed at her skewered nipples.
"Them.  I still got the needles in 'em.  I figger I might as well keep the
fuckin' holes..."

	"Oh.  Okay, I'll help.  I know a couple of places in the mall.  Gold
is best.  How big?"

	Tabitha thought about it while concealing her approval of the way
the girl took the task on as her own.  "Lemme see yer pinky."  Nora
displayed her hand, close up.  "Yeh, 'bout that thick.  Mebbe a li'l bigger,
full up."  Girl had narrow fingers.  Wasn't big anywhere, 'cept the ass...
Nice round tits...  Tabitha chuckled to herself; them things probly had
Nate's fingerprints all over 'em!

	Meanwhile, Nora collected the photograph.  "I think I can scale from
this -- although I probably can't be taking this out at the mall to look
at..."

	"Wanna see 'em?  Don' worry, the boy has."  Tabitha looked mildly
embarrassed.  "Too many times."

	"I've seen enough," Nora replied.  "Maybe when we fit them.  What do
you want?  Studs?  Rings?"

	"Studs, to start."  Tabitha eyed the girl, putting forth another
test.  "You can mount them."

	"Okay."  Test passed.  Nora didn't even flinch.

	" 'Tween the size o' them needles, an' the fact they was hauled on
fer a while, the fuckin' holes are probly pretty fuckin' big."

	Nora nodded, still examining the photo.  "Think they tore at all?"

	"Nah.  There was plenty there.  They was just hauled on enough to
keep it hurtin'."

	Nate watched and listened to the dispassionate discussion in some
wonder.  You'd think they were talking about shopping for chicken breasts,
or something!  Nate's nipples hurt to look at the pictures, and he didn't
HAVE any, to speak of.  And his pecker had shrunk up to a little tiny
thing...

	Stick Williams wandered through the door at that point, "Hey."

	"Stick." Tabitha acknowledged Nate's friend.

	"Thought I'd come by.  How you doin'?"

	"I'll live.  Nice a' ya."

	Nate eyed his friend.  "How'd you get here?"

	"Mary brought me.  She don't know your Mama, so she didn't want to
come up and stick her nose in shit."

	Nate frowned.  The initial question hadn't been important, but
something about the answer was fucked up...  "Mary don't own no car, does
she?"

	Stick caught out, backpedaled.  "Okay, Ted brought me.  He's
downstairs with Mary."

	"Huh!  Man, I can't figure out why you're fooling around with that
little fuck!  Mary's understandable, I guess -- different strokes -- but
Teddy?  What're you doin', fuckin' him?"

	Stick's face closed down.  Nora looked away.  And a light came on in
Nate's head.

	Stick was well and truly fucked.  It seemed like there was only one
possible way to stave off the inevitable.  "I don't hafta take that kinda
shit, Nate.  Get better, Miz Adams.  I'm outta here..."  Stick turned and
strode out.

	Nate stood there, soaking up the shock.  Stick was queer?  What the
fuck?  And another thing...  "You KNEW!" he accused Nora.

	"Well, I know a helluva lot more that you THINK you know!" Nora
replied hotly.  "Mary swore me to secrecy!  It's...  a lot more complex than
it looks..."

	"Boy!" Tabitha yelled.  "Settle the fuck down!"

	"I find out my best friend's queer and my girlfriend knows it, and
I'm supposed to settle down?" Nate ranted.  "Jeezus shit!"

	"You don' fuckin' know it all, Boy!  If he's your frien' you'll
lissen ta how it is!"

	"Awright."  He turned on Nora, fuming, "Well?"

	Nora shrugged.  "Things are a lot closer to the way they've been
telling it than you're probably guessing," Nora apologized.  "But Mary swore
me to secrecy because Stick and Teddy stand to take just the kind of shit
you're dishing out!  Fact is, they've got a three-way thing going -- but
it's REALLY three-way, rather than Mary doing it all..."

	"So who's fuckin' who?" Nate sneered.

	"Well, Stick is fucking Mary, and Teddy is fucking Mary..."

	"Anybody fuckin' Stick?" Nate cut to the chase.

	"I don't think so.  Stick just isn't that particular who is sucking
him off, as long as they're good at it..."

	"Well, that's a LITTLE better," Nate allowed.  "Stick fuckin'
Teddy?"

	"Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

	"Stick suckin' cocks?"

	"I don't know," Nora hedged, "Maybe."

	"Jeezus Christ..."

	"Oh, shut up, Boy!" Tabitha ranted.  "If you was in the joint, you'd
be somebody's fuckin' bitch inside a week!  Eatin' pussy ain't made me a
lezzie, an' suckin' an occasional cock don' make Stick queer!  Ever hear o'
'bisexual'?"

	"Well, yeh."

	"So?  How much pussy was Stick gettin' before this Mary?"

	"Same's me -- zip."

	"An' you wouldn'ta accepted a blowjob from queer-bait?"

	Nate looked EXTREMELY uncomfortable.  "I mighta..."

	The black woman eyed Nora.  "What's this kid look like?"

	Nora shrugged.  "Small.  Kind of girlish, actually.  Wavy brown
hair.  He was getting typecast."

	"So.  You ain't gettin' shit.  Girly-boy blows you -- an' it's good.
Girly-boy ups some ass -- an' it's good.  Everythin's quiet -- ain't public,
you ain't swappin' spit or anythin' -- he's jus' handlin' your needs.  You
gonna do ABSOLUTELY nuthin' in return?  How long's THAT gonna last?"

	"That's all well and good," Nate complained, "but what about Mary?
Stick didn't hafta do that shit -- he had a bitch!"

	"Well, it didn't start out that way," Nora interjected.  "Mary
blackmailed them both into having sex with her..."

	"What?"

	Nora sighed.  "Mary says it all started at the Prom.  There was a
glory hole in the Men's Room..."  Tabitha chuckled.  "and Stick was a little
drunk.  Teddy blew him, but I guess the whole thing was kind of
anonymous..."

	"You don' see who's on the other side of a glory hole, generally,"
Tabitha supplied.  "It's just a hole in the wall you stick your dick
through.  You drop a load, the cocksucker gets it -- everybody's happy, an'
there's no messy talk an' shit."

	"Apparently, Teddy was really good," Nora continued.  He got out of
the Men's Room without Stick figuring out who he was, but he was standing
there with Mary when Stick came out and pumped her for info on who had come
by recently.  Mary put two and two together and got six..."  She glanced at
Nate.  "She had Teddy by the balls at that point, but he's a big chicken
about going to her house.  You picking me up made Stick appetizing, and
having Stick along would allay Teddy's fears enough for Mary to get at least
one, and maybe two, dicks...  You see how close this is to what you've been
told?"

	"Thus far," Nate grumped.

	Nora sighed.  "When they got to Mary's place, Mary got Teddy stone
drunk and started playing bisexual fuck flicks.  She outed Teddy to Stick,
but only after she let Stick know that she had a gun to HIS head, too --
basically, that if Teddy got outed, he would, too.  Then she made them a
deal:  they could try man-sex at her place, in perfect privacy -- but they
had to both fuck her, too."

	"I don't get it," Nate complained.  "Is Fat Mary that big a slut?"

	Nora shrugged.  "Well, there is no question that she likes sex, but
you put your finger on the problem:  Mary is FAT -- there isn't a line of
boys waiting to date her.  In fact, blatant advertising made her only a
little more successful than ME."  She shrugged.  "Mary wanted a boyfriend;
if she could get either one of them to come to the well a few times without
feeling serious pressure over it, chances were that she'd at least get
SOMETHING."

	"Okay, so, there was a cock sucking tournament?  Teddy IS queer,
right?"

	Nora shook her head.  "Teddy THOUGHT he was queer -- and he was
being type cast.  Mary says he's a pretty good fuck, actually.  So is Stick
-- but totally different.  But Teddy likes guys, too."

	"An' Stick?"

	"Stick has his choice of five holes, apparently.  Would YOU screw
that up, if they all worked well?"

	"Jeez, I dunno!"

	"Mary figures Stick could walk away -- he would MUCH rather receive
than to give.  Apparently, she browbeat him into blowing Teddy because
turnabouts IS fair play...  Nobody expects Stick to EVER be on bottom,
though.  Teddy, well, he's getting a lot of attention on both sides, and he
likes it that way."

	Tabitha chuckled, "So I'm guessin' you don' ever have ta worry 'bout
Stick snugglin' up to ya in the middle of the night an' offering ta take the
edge off...  Basically, you keep your nose outta their business, an' things
ain't changed."

	"Well, mebbe.  Still, Stick knows his shit's in the wind..."

	"An' he DON'T know you ain't gonna shit on him!" his mother
interjected.  "You ain't are ya?"

	Nate sighed heavily.  "Nah.  I guess not."

	"Then you better get to him 'fore he gets too bent outta shape..."

	Nate stood there wondering how he was going to accomplish that when
Nora came to the rescue:  "He's with Mary, right?"  She whipped out her cell
phone...

                         --------------------

	Stick was a wreck.  He was sitting in Teddy's car in the parking lot
with Teddy and Mary, freaking out.  "Nate made the whole thing!  It was
fucking awful!  He goes, like, 'What're you doin', fuckin' him?'  An' I
fuckin' froze up!"  He stopped dead, remembering, then, "Hey!  How the fuck
does NORA know?"  He turned an accusing glance on Mary.

	"Well, she didn't talk," Mary blustered.

	"Who the fuck ELSE knows?" Stick demanded.

	"Besides Nate?"  Mary's phone rang, allowing her to back out of THAT
one.  "Hullo?"

	"Mary, are you with Stick?" Nora asked.

	"Yeah."

	"How is he?"

	"Bad."

	"Give him the phone."

	Mary did so, and Nora handed hers to Nate, giving him that look that
women have used to enforce good behavior in their significant others since
sometime before the dawn of recorded history.  Nate took the thing gingerly,
"Stick?"

	"Yeh."

	"Awright, it's cool, Man.  Nora explained shit to me."

	"What did she tell ya?"

	"Uh, can we do this, like, face to face?"

	"Yeh.  I'm in the parkin' lot."

	"Bring 'em up, then."

	"What about your Mama?"

	"She knows.  She slapped me upside the head a coupla times." Nate
flicked his eyes at his mother.

	Tabitha chuckled and interjected, "I wanna see this Mary."

	Nate nodded.  "Mama wants to see Mary."

	"Teddy, too," Tabitha added.

	"Teddy, too."

	"Awright."  He hung up.  "Nate wants ta see us.  All of us."

	Teddy looked fearful.  "What does he know?"

	"I dunno," Stick replied.  "Whatever it was, Nora told him."  Again
the eyes swiveled to Mary -- this time, two pair.

	"She's my best friend!" Mary wailed.

	"An' what does she know?"

	Mary hung her head.  "Just about everything."

	"Fuck.  Le's go."  Stick opened the door.

	"What's Nate gonna do?" Teddy worried querulously.

	"I guess we're gonna find out."  Stick made sure the other two got
moving.

	It took a good ten minutes for an extremely diffident trio to make
an appearance at the door of Tabitha's hospital room.  "Git in here, you
three!" she ordered.

	The three of them sidled in.  Tabitha got her first look at Mary
Nally.  Yep, she was fat, all right -- but then Stick was damned skinny.
THAT piece kinda made sense...  She shifted her attention to Teddy Frick.
"C'mere, boy."  The look on his face said that Teddy wouldn't be surprised
if the bedridden black woman offered to beat the shit out of him.  Tabitha
chuckled.  "High-strung, ain't ya?  I cain't throw rocks, Boy.  You know
what I do fer a livin'?"

	"Uh, no..." Teddy managed.

	"I'm a fuckin' hooker, Boy.  Now c'mere."

	Teddy approached gingerly.  Tabitha continued, "I'm hearin' you like
to play both sides of the fence.  That right?"

	"Yes, Ma'am."

	"Which you like better?  Dick or pussy?"

	"Uhhhhh..."

	" 'Sokay, Boy.  Either way."

	"It's... not that.  I... can't decide."

	Tabitha pondered a moment.  "You givin' up ass to Stick?"

	Teddy looked around, trying to find something resembling support --
and he got it.  Mary came off the wall, and Stick nodded gravely.  "Yeah."

	Tabitha eyed Stick.  "Stick, you done Mary's ass?"

	Stick flicked a glance at Mary.  "Yeh."

	"Which 'un's better?"

	"They're... different."

	Tabitha nodded.  "Suckin' cock?"

	"Uhhh...  Teddy.  Mary's learnin', though."

	Tabitha decided it was time to stick in a ringer, "Stick givin' you
ass, Boy?"

	Teddy's blink said the concept was foreign to him.  "No..."

	"Stick suckin' cock?"

	Teddy's eyes made the rounds, but Stick shrugged.  "A couple of
times.  Mary's better, though."

	Nate thought that this was fucking awful, but Mama seemed to think
it was significant, from her expression...  Tabitha again shifted the
interrogation, this time to Mary.  "Why ain't YOU picked one?"

	Mary shrugged.  "They're different."

	"How?"

	"Lots of ways.  There's the obvious," Mary grinned suddenly, "which
isn't."

	"Meanin'?"

	"Their, uh, members.  Stick's is pretty much what you'd think it
was, from looking at him.  Teddy's is... a surprise."

	"Baby, I know what a cock is.  Anybody else in the dark?"  Tabitha
glanced around, grinning.  "Spit it out."

	"Okay."  Mary blushed.  "Stick's is long and thin.  Teddy's is
shorter, but..."  She held up her hand in a 'C' shape to demonstrate Teddy's
surprising circumference.

	"Huh!"  Tabitha glanced at Teddy, who was blushing furiously.  "That
IS different.  I'm guessin' they scratch different spots?"

	"Uh huh."

	"That ain't it, though?"

	"No.  Teddy needs mothering, and I enjoy that -- usually.  But
sometimes I don't want to..."

	Tabitha's eyes settled on Stick as she asked, "An' Stick don't take
much motherin' does he?  I imagine he runs things..."

	"Uh huh."

	"So, Stick, how is eatin' pussy?"

	"Not bad."  Stick grinned.  "I like the results."

	"And suckin' dick?"

	She'd caught him short.  He glanced apologetically at Teddy, and
replied, "It ain't my favorite thing."

	"So why d'ya do it?"

	"Mary convinced me that jus' pokin' Ted's holes an' not givin' him
any jollies wasn't right."

	"Hand job?"

	Stick rolled his eyes.  "Dude's GOT hands.  I got hands, too -- it
ain't the same."

	Tabitha turned her eyes on her son.  "You gettin' this?  Lemme
recap.  This ain't a couple 'a dudes sharin' a woman -- it's a three-way.
It's fairly stable, 'cause each of 'em 's got needs, and the other two are
handlin' 'em.  Stick is top cock; he's got two bitches -- jus' one of 'em's
a bit more female than the other."  Teddy took the hit, blushing.  "Lotsa
times, gay sex is a thing where they talk 'bout 'tops' and 'bottoms'.  Tops,
usually, are inta runnin' shit an' gettin' their dicks wet -- damned few of
'em are gonna up any ass, 'cept maybe once in a blue moon outa a sense of
fair play.  Same thing with cocksuckin'."  Nate was all ears.  "So, we got a
thing, here -- a peckin' order.  Stick runs shit, mostly by lettin' things
happen, but he pushes here an' there.  Mary's in the middle.  She's gettin'
laid regular, an' it ain't the same ol' dick.  She keeps Teddy mothered, but
Stick gives her regular breaks where she can relax an' go with the flow.
An' Teddy's a bottom.  He's gettin' motherin' and sex from Mary, an' gettin'
his submission in takin' loads from Stick, who's also takin' care of him
'round guys."  She scanned the trio.  "Did I miss anything?"

	"No," Mary responded, "That's how I make it out."

	"So, is Stick a cocksucker?  Only with Teddy.  Is it a problem fo'
YOU?" she asked Nate rhetorically, "No."

	"Okay, I got it," Nate grumbled.  "Howcum SHE didn't tell me?"  He
glared at Nora.

	"Girl talk don't extend to guys, usually, ya dumb fuck.  You wanna
hear 'bout the fit of her Kotex?"  Tabitha chuckled.  " 'Specially if she
was sworn to secrecy an' she knew you'd shit a brick...  What the fuck you
want?"

	"I just wanted to make an official complaint," Nate replied.  He
turned to Stick.  "This shit is gonna get out, Man.  I'm good with it, now,
but it... reflects..."

	"Not THAT much," Nora pointed out.  "You're not hanging with the
same bunch, now, either of you..."

	Nate blinked.  True enough.  "Well, you gotta find a way to break it
to Draper before he figgers it out himself, Man."

	"Yeh," Stick agreed.  "Might need help."

	"Okay."

	"Awright, Sex Ed is over for today.  Ya'll get the fuck outta here,
so I can get some sleep!" Tabitha groused -- but she grinned to remove the
sting.