Copyright 1996, by the author.  All rights reserved.   
Any reproduction of this work outside the confines 
of the usenet news group, alt.sex.stories, without 
the explicit permission of the author is prohibited.
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"We are always paid for our suspicion by finding
what we suspect."  --Thoreau
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Instant Romance
by Dafney Dewitt

Story #2 of Fuller's Follies

The woman started undressing before Fuller could speak.  He heard 
her come in the front door, but did not find her until she had started 
undressing.  She must have gone straight to the bedroom.  Her back 
was to him.  She had kicked off her shoes and stripped out of her 
blouse.  She turned to unzip her skirt.  That was when she saw Fuller.

"Oh, my God!"  she gasped clutching her blouse to cover her breasts.  
She was alone in her apartment, confronted by a strange man with her 
roommate, Donna, not due home for another two hours.  She was 
frightened, but determined not to show her fear.  She looked Fuller 
directly in the face waiting to see what would happen.

"Don't stop now," said Fuller, who was enjoying himself.
"Who are you?"
"I'm many things," Fuller answered vaguely.
"You're a burglar, aren't you?"
"Yes, I'm here to take your valuables."  Fuller fed her fantasy.

She reached into her purse and took our her wallet.
"Here, there's $150.  Take it.  That's all I have."
She threw the money onto her bed.
"There must be more," insisted Fuller.
"No, that's all my money."

Fuller had made no move to grab her money.  This worried her.  
She wanted him to take the money and run.

"I wasn't talking about money."
"Isn't that what burglars want?"
"You said I was a burglar, not me."
"Well, if you're not a burglar how can you take my valuables?"
"There are things more valuable then money."

She took one step back.  He was scaring her.  This was more then 
some smash and grab burglar.  This guy was cool.  He had gained
entrance into her apartment without breaking a door or window, and
waited.  He had waited for her to come home from work.  More then
his words, it was his confidence that frightened her.

"You're not a burglar are you?"
"No," admitted Fuller.
"You're really after me, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"I should warn you."
"About what?"
"I'm a black belt in Karate."
"Me too," Fuller lied.

This was her worst fear.  It was the ultimate nightmare.  She was 
cornered in her bedroom with no weapons, her roommate gone, 
and the phone in the next room.  If she screamed, he might kill her.  
She made an intense effort to remain cool and keep the stranger 
talking.  As long as he was talking, he would not be doing other 
things that she preferred not to think about.

"I'm sick, you know."
"Oh, really?" said Fuller encouraging her to continue.
"Yes, I have a venereal disease."
"Which one?"
"Chlamydia."
"Is that anything like Syphllis?" Fuller asked.
"Yes, it's very contagious, and painful."
"Are you taking medication?"
"Yes, but it's still highly contagious."
"That's why it's good to use condoms," said Fuller trying to be helpful.
"I don't have any condoms,"  she said.
"But I do," offered Fuller taking a condom out of pocket.

Just her luck, a rapist with condoms in his pockets.  She was facing a 
black-belt Karate rapist with condoms.  What else was in his pockets?
She knew about rapists.  As a nurse, she had seen the beaten, hysterical 
victims.  Rapists enjoyed the violence more then the sex. Without violence, 
most rapists were impotent.  Sometimes they would even skip the sex and 
just beat their victims.   She was determined to use this knowledge.  She
would not let herself be a victim.    

"You don't really want to have sex with me do you?"
"No," admitted Fuller.
"You don't even know me," she pursued her advantage.
"Not true,"  insisted Fuller.
"You can't know me.  I've never seen you before."
"I feel like I've know you all my life."
"You're just saying that to scare me."
"No, I'm not."
"You know nothing about me."
"I know everything about you," insisted Fuller.
"Like what?"
"Your name is Elaine Downey."
"How did you know my name?"

She was visibly shaken.  Simply being called by her own name, scared 
her more then anything else.  Her name coming out of this stranger's lips  
made her feel violated, exposed, and vulnerable.  How much more did 
he know?

"I know all about you."
"You searched through my mail before I got home."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did."
"You're twenty-seven years old, you have a brother who lives in 
Scranton, Pennsylvania, you work as a nurse at Sacred Mary's
Mercy Hospital, and you like Chinese Food."

Elaine was stunned by this recitation of her personal life.  There was
no way this stranger could know about her brother or that her favorite 
food was Chinese.  Her paranoia started growing.  Her imagination 
fed upon itself.

"You've been spying on me for a long time haven't you?"
"There was no need for me to spy."
"How did you get all my personal information?"
"The Agency provided it."

Her worst fears had been realized.  This was not a solitary madman.
He was a madman with an entire agency behind him.  This was a plot
far more sinister then she imagined.

"You have a gun don't you?"
"Yes, a concealed weapon with a silencer."
"You're here to kill me aren't you?"
"Not immediately."
"What's that susposed to mean?"
"In my left hand pocket is a small hypodermic air gun."
"What's that for?"
"A powerful sedative to put you to sleep."
"Why?"
"The Agency wants you taken alive."
"The Agency?"
"Yes, you've been choosen."
"I've been choosen?"
"For transplant organs."

This was even worse then Elaine could have imagined in her worst
nightmares.  She was going to be kidnapped and used for donor 
organs.  She was going to be surgically dismembered for her body 
parts.  This explained his cool detachment.  He had no personal 
interest in her.  He did not even want to beat her.  In his eyes, she 
was just a collection of harvestable body parts.

"I'll wait while you get dressed," Fuller nodded in her direction.
"Thanks." 

She was truly grateful and quickly slipped back into her blouse and 
re-zipped her skirt.  Her confidence returned along with her clothes.
She tried confusing him by pretending to be her roommate.

"You've made a mistake."
"What mistake?"
"My name is Donna.  You want my roommate."
"You're not Donna.  Your name is Elaine."
"You don't know me," she insisted.  
"I know you more intimately, then you know yourself."
"How is that possible?"
"I know your blood type, DNA structure, and genetic compatibility."
"You tissue typed me?"
"Yes."
"But how?"
"The samples were obtained from your gynecologist."
"My gynecologist?"
"We were worried about your pregnancy."
"What pregnancy?  My tests came back negative."
"We switched the lab results."
"You what?"
"We needed to put distance between you and your boyfriend."
"Why?"
"To avoid an angry boyfriend searching for you after your disappearance."
"You mean I'm pregnant?"
"Yes," answered Fuller.

Fuller gave her a moment of quiet contemplation.  She placed her 
hands on her belly, searching for a second heartbeat.  Small tears 
formed in the corners of her eyes.  Her teary eyes filled with anger, 
Elaine tried appealing to his humanity.

"You're not a baby killer," she assured him.
"No," admitted Fuller.
"Then let me go, let me live.  Let my baby live," she pleaded

Without realizing it, Elaine was winning.  She had managed to keep
this madman talking for hours.  Any moment, Donna would come 
home, and she would have a chance to escape.  She would be a
survivor.

"We want the baby."
"You want me and the baby?"
"We want you both."
"But you can't have both."
"Oh, but we can," Fuller assured her.
"How?"
"Your body will be maintained on life support systems."
"Your going to harvest my body parts during my pregnancy?"
"The last harvest will be your baby."

She heard the door lock turning.  He made no attempt to escape 
or attack her.  Before she could shout out a warning, Donna 
shouted at the madman.

"Hi Fuller!"  shouted Donna as she came in the door.
"Fuller?" gasped Elaine.
"Yes, my brother.  I mailed him a key to our condo so he could 
be in town when they presented the Soap Opera Oscars."
"You asshole!" shouted Elaine.

Fuller gave a weak smile.

"I'm a script writer for soap operas," explained Fuller putting his 
hands over his face to avoid being hit.  "Instant romance is my
specialty."

___________________________________________________
Confessions of a Moral Pornographer -
   The plot used in "Instant Romance" was stolen from a story 
   written by Saki(aka H.H. Munro)titled "The Open Window".
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Author Note:  If you liked this story, please look for other 
stories by Dafney Dewitt posted to Alt.Sex.Stories.

                   Donna's Humiliation
                   Bad Touching
                   Ginsu Memories
                   Morning Kisses
                   Midnight Intruder
                   Jazzercise
                   Double Bang
                   Bosnian Babes In Rapeland
                   Spare Change
                   A Long Walk
                   Disrobing Mother
                   Homeward Bound
                   Just A Bad Day
                   Insurance Exam
                   A Call For Help
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