Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Thrasher Girls VII - "Mormons"

Thrasher Girls VII
"Mormons"


The last time I breathed fresh "free" air, it was like inhaling a
trillion little ice cubes, each one cutting my lungs like
quantum-sized razor blades.  That was in January, before nikki porno
and I got busted jacking that herman's car.  Eight months later, and
it's August, and the air between the front door of Springvale Youth
Home and moms' car is hot and wet, just like the air inside the
infirmary's laundry.  I won't miss that fucking laundry, that's for
sure.  
 	Even when it was 30 below outside, I'd rather have been
freezing my tits off in my room with Jesus-Girl and her Bible Avengers
than shaking out wet sheets in the laundry.  That's what they did when
a girl exercised a little freedom of thought in Gulag Springvale;
they'd stick your ass in the laundry and have you unload these huge,
monstrosity washing machines and shake out 800 pounds of wet sheets.
All water-logged, though, the 800 pounds was more like 3,000 pounds,
and the shit coming out of the compartments was over a 1000 degrees.
No gloves either - no nothing.  The skin used to peel off the sides of
my arms in chunks like I was a well-done steak.
	FUCK THAT SHIT!  I did my fucking time.  They tried their
psych-out, Clockwork Orange, voodoo shit on the little thrasher grl,
and she came out -- brain in-fucking-tact!  Can't say the same for the
body, though.  Just my fucking leg, really; too much nerve damage down
my spine from the accident they tell me.  Slamming 80 miles an hour
into an air bag will do that to you, I guess.  I'll never walk without
a limp again, and on bad days I have to use this aluminum crutch that
looks like something out of L.L. Geek Catalog.
 	The crutch is definitely going.   I'm going to get nikki p.,
and we're going to go hardcore thrifting until I find a kick-ass cane,
one that goes with being an outlaw.  I'm thinking some kind of shiny
black deal with a jeweled handle that pulls out into a stiletto.  The
kind a Bond villainess would whack with.  Let's see someone start
something with the little gimp chick then.
	First things first, though, and that means surviving the ride
home with moms, the step-Goober and Peanut.  Peanut's my little
brother, half-brother actually.  I can't remember if I've really
written about him or moms or the step-Goober before.  If I have, I
apologize for the redundant redundancy.  If I haven't, here's all the
data for your hard-drive.
	Peanut is nine .. wait ten-years-old now.  His birthday is in
July.  I didn't get him anything.  Shit!  That's something else I've
got to do now that I'm sprung.  Moms was like 5-months knocked up with
the Nut when she and the Goober tripped over the altar.  I was in
kindergarten.  Moms and dads had been busted apart for over a year,
each managing their respective affairs almost from the time I'd been
born I guess.
	My first day of kindergarten was also the day moms told me
dads was moving out.  She'd tried to explain it to me like her and
dads had been 'best friends', but now they weren't anymore, so they
had to live apart.  I kind of understood what was going on, but I was
starting school, and nothing really sank in until around Halloween
when dads didn't take me trick-or-treating.
	That's when the Goober appeared on the scene.  Instead of dads
with his piggy-back rides and big bear hugs I got a big-footed, clumsy
dork who made it a point of not touching me at any time.  When she was
preggers, I once heard mom ask Goobs to lift me into the back of his
van because she couldn't manage.  He stared at me, stupefied, then
barely took my hand and told me I needed to start acting like a big
girl.  
 	I tried to jump up, but I couldn't, and I fell and scraped my
knee.   Then he just stood there with an even stupider look on his
face while moms came back and lifted me up into the van.  I heard them
discussing this whole deal later on, and moms asked him why he hadn't
lifted me.  He'd replied that 'physical contact' between us didn't
seem 'appropriate' at that point in our relationship.  
 	The funny thing is, I remember actually understanding what he
was saying and agreeing with him.  I was pissed I'd scraped my knee,
but I didn't want him holding me and touching me like dads did.  Later
that day, I could tell he was still upset by the whole thing, so I
went over to him and said: "I'm all right.  And you're right, I should
be a big girl by now and get in the van myself."  From then on, that's
exactly what I did, and since that day me and the Goobs kind of have
this understanding - he lets me be a big girl and only helps me when I
ask him, which is next to never.
	Moms has picked up on this arrangement, I guess, and she kind
of treats me the same way.  I make the grades in school and score high
on all the Proficiency Tests, and she leaves me to fuck up on my own.
She'd handled the visits to the principals and counselors all right,
and even gave them a piece of her mind.  In moms' opinion, my
discipline problems are the fault of an education system, which has no
idea how to handle a "brilliant, gifted young lady."
	She might be right there, really.  Even when I was in
elementary school, I was always finishing my work way ahead of
everyone else, and this was when I'd get in trouble for talking,
passing notes, or doodling on my desk.  My teachers always tried to
solve my 'idle hands' problems with dumping extra work on me, or
making me class monitor, or some other bullshit.  FUCK THAT!  Just
because I'm smarter and faster than everyone, I get punished with more
work?  I just refused to play that game, which sent all the counselors
into a tailspin because that's always SUPPOSED to work with smart
troublemakers.  I guess they could never comprehend that a
seven-year-old girl would be able to see through that crap.  That's
when my ongoing war with the public education system started.
	Nine grades later, and all the counselors' prophecies had
finally turned true.  Ronni really is the Bad-Seed, the Antichrist
666, the Whore of fucking Babylon.  I felt sorry for moms more than
anyone, really.  She is so idealistic and so post-70s femme.  She
really thought if she let me 'do my own thing' while 'accentuating the
positive' that I'd eventually outgrow the 'rebellious stage' and
mature into a 'self-actualized' young woman without all the 'girlish'
weakness and 'phallocratic social conditioning' she always bitched
about.
	Moms only ever said two things to me about sex and drugs.  One
-- never let drugs or sex control you.  Two -- always think of your
personal safety first.  Another time, she once told me that 'No kick
is worth dying for.'  It seemed to me now, as I crowded into the
backseat of her car, that I'd broken all three of these motherly
commandments, and things were probably going to be a lot different
between us now.  I'd disappointed and embarrassed her, exposed her to
all the other moms as a 'bad mother.'
  	Moms has an ego.  She should.  She's brilliant, successful,
and still looks great for a lady her age.  She's busted more balls
than I can count, and when she speaks her mind EVERYONE in the room
listens.    I felt bad that I'd tarnished her image.  She didn't
deserve that.  She didn't deserve to be judged because of my actions.
That wasn't fair.  I'd fucked up all on my own.  Well, at least one of
her kids was turning out right.
	The Peanut is a great kid.  I wish we were closer, but he's
just so young, and he has no idea where I'm at in life.  When I was
around 10, and he was 4, we would play together all the time.  I'd
baby-sit him, and he would hug me like every chance he got.  We
haven't hugged since I was 11 and started doing teenage stuff with my
friends.  He'd ask me to play with him, but I always had something
better to do, and then he just quit asking.  I kind of want to reach
over the backseat and hug him now, but that would just be too weird
for both us.
	Instead, I smile at him, and he smiles back .. well, sort of.
He knows I was in trouble, and that I did something wrong, and that I
was 'in jail.'  No wonder he's scared of me now.
	"I thought we'd go out to lunch," moms tells us all when we're
finally out of the parking lot and headed back to civilization.
"Rhonda, do you have anywhere in particular you'd like to go?"
	Test time.  Can ronni re-integrate successfully into the
suburban family social dynamic?  Asking to just go home so I can lie
on my own bed in my own room and try to put the last seven months out
of my mind is not an option here.  Ronni must demonstrate she can
think of other people's feelings aside from her own.
	"What about Mr. Toads?" I offer, my mind still on the Peanut.
Mr. Toads is his favorite restaurant - unlimited pizza and videogames.
I also figure the general cacophony will cover up any awkward silences
that erupt.  I can tag along with the Nut, play Mortal Kombat and big
sister Rhonda, and start rebuilding at least some of the seven-month's
worth of bridges I've burned behind me.
	I catch the Peanut smile at me .. for real this time .. and
we're off to Never Never Land.    Moms and the Goober order two large
'Big Toad' pizzas when we get there, and the Peanut and I hit the
videogames.  He's still nervous, I can tell.  His hands shake when I
press a handful of tokens into his palm.
  	"It's your token, Peanut .." I tell him.  "Now what do you
want to lose at first?"
	He brightens up a little when he hears me tease him like I
used to do when we were younger.  Beating his big sister at any game
is always a big thing to him, especially if I trash-talk him a little
first.  He drags me over to "Xtreme Vengeance," a combat game with
super-powered beings and lots of gore.   We play and trash-talk each
other while our animated fighters deal out lots of carnage.  After
fifteen minutes, we are laughing and teasing each other so hard I find
it hard to remember that just one day before I was still locked up and
hadn't even broken a smile for weeks.
	A part of my wants to tell Peanut something, something about
being his big sister, and loving him, and being sorry for what I might
have done to upset him.  The stronger part of me knows, though, that
naming my emotions would kill this moment forever.  Peanut doesn't
need 'reconciliation,' he just needs his big sister back.  I'm glad
I've trained myself not to cry.

	"Would you mind if I called nikki?" I ask moms after we've
returned home and it's about 7:00PM.  "I haven't heard from her in
months.  I just want to see how she's doing, that's all," I add.  "She
is my best friend," I keep on explaining while moms just looks at me.
	"A lot can happen in seven months," moms tells me slowly.
"People can change.  I hope you've changed .. a little at least," she
smiles weakly.
	"Can I call her or not?" I ask, unsure of what moms is talking
about.  It's not like her to be so yoda.  Usually the answers are
straight and sure, like gunfire.
	"I can't stop you from calling her," moms smiles.  "I just
want you to know that things change and people change, that's all.
You have to be prepared for that in life.  I want you to remember
that.  Change isn't something you should judge.  You can accept it or
fight it, but never judge it."
	"O..kay..?"  What is with all the Yoda shit?  "I'm calling her
then .. just for a few minutes."  I go over to the kitchen phone and
dial nikki.  This is an effort on my part to show moms I'm not hiding
anything from her.  I just got home, and I don't'need 'issues' my
first night back.
	"Hello?" The voice belongs to nikki's mom.  Her and nikk sound
so much alike, but I can always tell.
	"Is nikki there?"
	"Yes, this is Nicole .." Pause.  "Rhonda?"
	Shit, it is nikki.  I must really have been gone a long time.
I could always tell the difference between nikki porno and her mom
before.  And what is with the 'Rhonda' shit?  Moms, Gobbs and the Nut
were all calling me Rhonda, too, all fucking day.
	"P-slut ..?" I laugh.  "What's up, girlfriend?"
	"Are you home?" nikk asks, not answering my question.  Typical
nikki porno, always wants to know everything else that's going on
before she'll tell you what's on her mind.
	"Yeah, I was sprung today," I answer.  "Is it all right to
talk?"
	"Sure .." she responds after a long pause.  "Sure," she
repeats quickly.
	"I didn't know," I keep talking.  "I figured you had some kind
of .. you know .. restriction on you since I never heard anything from
you.  Is everything cool now?"
	"Everything's real cool," she replies quickly and hse catches
her breath.  "It's just .. it's weird hearing your voice .. that's
all.  After everything that happened.  So much's happened since ..
well, you know."
	"Like what?  Tell me everything, p--."
	"I .. ah .." she pauses.  "Could you ..?" she pauses again.
	"Could I what?"
	"Could you .. could you call me Nicole, or even just Nikki?"
	"I .. uh .. sure."  She sounds freaked or something, like
she's talking to a ghost.  What is wrong with her?  "Sure, Nikki.  I'm
sorry," I add, only I don't know why.
	"It's no biggie," she laughs.  "I just .. I like that better,
okay."
	"Sure," I shake my head.  Whatever?!  "So what you been up to?
I feel like it's been forever."
	"Yeah, me, too .."  she pauses again.  "How are you?  Is you
leg still busted?"
	"Yeppers," I try to laugh.  "I'm ronni the gimper now.  We
need to do some hardcore thrifting and get me a killer cane so I can
lose this lame crutch they got me walking on.  Can't have me thrashing
looking like a geek, can we?"
	"Um .." she sounds like she hasn't even been listening to me.
"I'm kind of in the middle of a family thing here.  I .. I really kind
of have to go."
	"Sure," I try to sound casual.  "I understand.  Moms doesn't
like me rapping with juvies either," I manage a laugh which she
doesn't return.  "So you wanna go thrifting maybe tomorrow or
something?"
	"Um .. let me check .. hold on .."  Her hand muffles the
phone, and I'm like in limbo for  almost five minutes, listening to
muffled voices.  "Hey, Rhonda ..?" Nikki finally comes back.  "My mom
wants to know if you'd like to come over tomorrow afternoon .. around
2:00 .. for lunch ..?"
	Never in the two-plus years we'd known each other had Nikki's
mom ever invited me over to their house for anything .. EVER!  I have
no idea how to respond to this, but find myself answering: "Yeah,
sure, Nikk.  We can go thrifting after that, okay ..?"
	"Sure .." she still sounds a tad freaked out.  "That'd be
great."
	"See you tomorrow then."  We say bye and hang up.
	I turn to moms who's been listening the whole time to my side
of the whole conversation.
	"You're going over there tomorrow?" she asks me.
	"Mm hmm," I nod.
	"Oh," is all moms says.
	"For lunch .. her mom invited me," I add.  "I didn't think
you'd mind.  I promise it'll just be lunch and then going to some
thrift stores.  I need a cane," I explain.  "This crutch thing is so
lame.  I can't be walking around with it my whole life.  I .. uh ..
I'm sorry, I guess I should have asked you first, huh ..?"  I wait for
an answer, but she just keeps looking at me, like she'd trying to
decide whether to tell me something or not.  "It's just that her
invitation took me by surprise," I fill the silence.  "I mean Nikki's
mom has never invited me over for anything.  I think I've only met her
once or something.  I got kind of put on the spot, you know ..?"
	"I don't mind if you go over there for lunch and go shopping,"
moms comes out of her daze-thing and nods her head.  "Just remember
what I said about change.  People do change, okay ..?  It's ..
inevitable," she says softly.
	I nod.  Whatever?!  I go outside to find the Peanut and see if
he wants to watch TV with me.  I haven't seen television in months.
Maybe we can find a cool movie.

	Fantasies and clit diddling.  I haven't been able to really
enjoy either in over six months.  There was no way I could've strummed
my puss with Bible Girl talking to Jesus not even ten feet away.  My
room was small enough, but throw in the utter lack of personal
privacy, and the only time I could jack off was if I played sick.
Even then, I had nurses in and out of my room at all times.
	I think preventing me from masturbating was part of my
"therapy."  Ronni the wild little thrasher slut needs some cooling
down.  All prevention did, though, was make me nuttier.  Nothing to
take the edge off, you know, especially when all that cunt therapist
ever wanted to talk about was sex.  She'd go home, listen to a tape of
me telling some fuck story from when I was thirteen, and pop her puss
good every night.
	I was stuck with maybe squeaking one out in the toilet, or
doing a comatose stroke some night under the covers when I couldn't
take it anymore.  Funny - I got over craving booze and drugs quick
enough, but never quit jonesing for a nice, slow finger fuck to my own
private porno movie.
	That night, then, my first night home, I'm itching to get to
bed, to get under my covers and inside myself.  I missed myself the
last seven months, missed the way I feel, missed the way my mind could
take me to another world and drop me off a bottomless cliff.
	It feels weird when I finally get the lights off and my
panties off.  I must have jacked myself to sleep a thousand times over
the years, but this time it's like I'm somehow uncomfortable with
myself again, like I was when I first started playing with myself at
eleven.  I try to think of the wildest thing I can imagine - I am the
President's daughter and I am on Air Force One getting gangraped by a
group of terrorists.  They have a nuclear bomb on board and they are
going to blow up New York City unless I do everything they say.
	They make me perform in front of everyone on board - the
President, the First Lady, all the news media.  They make the
television crews film the whole thing and broadcast it worldwide.
They are all around me, tearing off my clothes, making me strip for
them and the cameras.  They are wearing these fucked-up turbans,
waving around machine guns, and they smell like piss.  They make me
take out each of their cocks one-by-one while the television crews
film it and the whole world watches.   Their cocks are thick and beefy
and all uncircumcised.  Their foreskins hang out over the ends of
their pricks, and I have to pump each one to get it really hard.  They
laugh at me, and bat my head back and forth between their cocks like a
volleyball.
	"Look at the little American slut," the leader mocks me as he
seizes me and jams his smelly cock down my throat.  "She sucks cock
like a whore, like all American sluts.  They are all cocksucking
whores.   She sucks cock just like her mother taught her, don't you
American girl slut ..?" he keeps shoving his cock down my throat
before another man grabs my hair and impales my mouth on his cock.  "I
fuck the throat of the daughter of the president of the United States.
Soon all teenage American girls will be on their knees sucking our
cocks, brothers," he tells his men.
	I am surrounded by these gang-raping terrorists, and they make
me perform every sexual act imaginable while the cameras roll.  Then
they drag these flight attendants into the fray, and force us all to
eat each other out and fist fuck each others' pusses and asses while
they cut our flesh with knives and carve words like "Slut" "Pig," and
"Whore" into our backs and butt cheeks.
	Then one guy gets the idea to snuff one of us while he's
fucking her ass because he once heard that dying girls give the best
ride.  They choose this little blonde flight attendant who is begging
for her life.  To shut her up, they bury her mouth in my snatch and
start fucking her sphinx hard with a gun to her head.
	I am crying and screaming, but I am also anxious .. anxious to
see what will happen.  They are mashing the girl's screaming mouth
into my puss, and despite my terror and I am fucking my puss into the
poor girl's face.  All the terrorist guys are screaming "Snuff her.
Snuff the American bitch.  Snuff all of them while we fuck them."  I
don't want to die, but I start cumming like crazy.  The guy with the
gun is pulling the trigger.  
 	I close my eyes and bite down on my palm to suppress my moan.
I black out.
	A couple seconds later the room comes whirling back into my
senses.  My room .. my bed .. my fingers .. my puss .. my body .. my
mind.  MY FUCKING MIND!
	I hug the damp sheets and lick my taste off my fingers.  I
miss the feel of another naked body next to mine.  I look out my
window and watch the breeze seethe through the curtains.
	MY FUCKING MIND!  

	Moms wants to drop me off at Nikki's the next afternoon.  I
want to walk.  She's worried about my leg.  I tell her I'm no cripple
and that I want to walk.  She doesn't argue with me and then hands me
her cell phone.  "Call me if anything happens, okay ..?" she tells me,
like she expects to hear from me.
	I'm pretty stupefied, I mean moms trusting me with her cell
phone after all the shit I've pulled.  She just gives me this odd kind
of grimace-smile when she sees me limp off into the afternoon
sunlight.
	It's still fucking hot out, and after I reach the end of my
street I realize how fucking uncomfortable crutches can be.  Another
mile.  What the fuck was I thinking?  I almost turn back, but I can
feel moms' eyes on my back, and for some reason I feel like this is a
test.  How strong am I?  How much am I going to have to lean on
everyone else now?  I keep on walking and actually start kicking on
the pain in a way.
	Pain - mental, emotional or physical -- always focuses me.
All the million thoughts screaming in my brain quiet and coalesce into
one point of white-hot light.  It's like when you tune all the fuzz
out of a radio station and everything comes in clear finally.  I march
forward inside that clarity for the next half-hour until I see Nikki's
house.
	Nikki's house?
	Someone painted it and cleaned up the yard and trimmed the
hedges.  There's one of those fake miniature wells and a tiny
cobblestone path leading up to it from the sidewalk.  A small, plaster
lawn-gnome sunning himself on a rock grins at me.  What the ..?
	I start to check the address when I see Nikki appear at the
front screen door.  She's in a flowery dress that practically covers
her whole body, and she's carrying what looks like a pitcher of
lemonade.  All the red is gone from her hair, and I realize I've never
seen the natural strawberry blonde of her hair.  No make-up or
lipstick, either.
	"Nikk ..?" I laugh as I walk up the tiny cobblestone path.
	"Hi, Rhonda," she smiles.  "You walked over here?" she seems
surprised and a little troubled when she sees me sweating and limping
in obvious pain.  "Are you okay?"
	"Hell yes," I grin, then pause.  "Wow!" I finally say what's
on my mind as she opens the door and nothing stands between us.  "You
look sooo different.  Rehab, huh ..?" I'm fishing for some kind of
explanation.
	"Yeah," she smiles like she has some kind of secret she's not
so sure she wants to share.  "Kind of .."
	"You're playing it smart," I whisper to her as I enter her
house.  "Keeps 'em off your case."
	She doesn't reply, and I quickly forget her silence as I soak
up the new interior surrounding me.  It's like someone came in and
removed everything familiar from her living room and replaced it with
the keepsakes from another family.  There are family photos everywhere
-- Nikki and her parents and her brother in a bunch of different
locations doing a bunch of shit I never heard about.  Then I notice
all the pics feature the new Nikki, and I figure it out.  Seven years
worth of photos in seven months.
	Then I see Jesus.
	He is everywhere, just like God's supposed to be I guess.
He's laughing, he's talking to children, and he's preaching to
American Indians.  Then Nikki's mom comes into the room.  "Rhonda!"
she  gushes, and it actually seems genuine.  "Oh, please, sit down.
You must be exhausted."  She actually takes my forearm under my elbow
and leads me to what has to be a brand new couch.  It even smells like
the furniture store.  The cushions are soft, and I sink into cumfiness
despite myself.
	"Dear," Nikki's mom smiles at her, "get Rhonda a glass of
lemonade.  She has to be parched."
	Parched?  The word strikes me as even odder than the lady's
outfit.  The only thing I ever saw Nikki's mom wearing was her work
uniform over a pale complexion.  Now she's all scrubbed down and
suburban - cotton summer dress, same flower pattern as Nikki's, and a
deep tan.  She looks like she could run the marathon or something.
But it's the word 'parched' that really gets my radar up.  It's like
hearing someone you've known for years suddenly speak a foreign
language.  'Parched' sounds like a word Jesus would use, not nikki
porno's mother.
	"We'll eat in a few minutes," she pats my knee affectionately,
and I want to squirm, but I don't.  I'm too wigged to even move.  "You
do like tuna salad, don't you ..?"
	"Um .. yeah .. that'd be great," I don't know what else to
say.
	"You look good .. strong .." she adds quickly, obviously aware
I just limped into her house after a mile trek.  "I'm so happy you're
here.  I know Nicolette has missed you.  But you know how she is.
It's very hard for her to talk about her feelings .. still," she adds.
"She's starting to come out of her shell, though.  We all are. These
last several months have been hard for us .. but good," she smiles
firmly.  "Adversity makes us grow.  But you know that, don't you ..?"
	"Yeah," I find myself nodding.
	"Nicolette has some other friends joining us," she looks up
and smiles at Nikki when she re-enters the room with a tray of
lemonade and three glasses.  "I hope you don't mind," she turns back
to me.
	"Tams?" I ask Nicole.
	Nicole shakes her head and shoots me a weird look.  "No, you
don't know them."
	"Huh .." I can't think of anything else to say.  I take my
glass of lemonade and drain it in one long gulp.  I'm that 'parched.'
Nikki smiles at me and refills my glass.  The scene is so freaky that
part of me wants to crawl out of my skin and slither back out onto the
street.  My curiosity gets the best of me, though, and I find myself
settling into the surreality.  Nikk is scamming something here, and
I'm dying to find out what the deal is.
	"I'm going to check on lunch," Nikk's mom sips her lemonade
and stands up.  "I'm sure you girls have some catching up to do.
We'll be eating in a few minutes.  You did tell Eld .. ah .. Jason,
Scott and Loren two o'clock, didn't you ..?"  She looks over at the
clock on the fake fireplace mantle next to the "Jesus Preaches to the
Indians" picture.
	"Yes, mom," Nikk seems slightly annoyed for a second, but then
she smiles.  "I told them two o'clock.  You know how they are when
they're out.  They'll be here."
	She smiles back at Nikk.  "It'll just be a few minutes,
Rhonda," she tells me again, then leaves the room.
	"Okay, Nikk, what the hell is going on here?" I laugh under my
breath.
	She winces.  Not the reaction I expected.  "Rhonda, could you
..?"  she cuts herself off, glances towards the kitchen, then back to
me.  "I'm not sure you're going to understand all this, but could you
at least wait and give it a chance."
	"Give what a chance?"
	"I can't explain it .. not now at least .. just promise me
you'll give it a chance."
	"What .. a chance?"
	"Things are different now," she started.  "I'm different.  I
know how this is going to look, but if we're going to be friends this
is how it's going to be."
	"What do you mean 'if we're going to be friends?'"
	"Like I said, I can't explain it.  You'll just have to see.
Just promise me you'll wait.  Can you promise me?"
	"Sure, Nikk?" I shake my head.  "Whatever you're scamming,
it's got be good.  I mean look at you .."
	The sound of a car in the drive interrupts us.  Nikki springs
up from her chair and sprints to the door, the way she used to when
Josh and I would pull into her driveway.  I find myself standing, too,
and peeking through the screen door behind her.
	The kids getting out of the car are dressed up like they're
going to church - the two guys in dark suits and ties, and the girl in
a navy blue skirt and blazer with a starched white blouse.  I see the
leather-covered books clutched in their hands, and then the surreality
turns absolutely X-Files.
	For the first time I notice the books and magazines
strategically arrayed across the brand new coffee table: "New Era,"
"The Ensign,"  "The Holy Bible," "The Book of Mormon."
	Oh, shit ..
	The bible-pushers enter the house with a clamor of greetings
and hugs for Nikki.  I try to back off, but gimpy ronni isn't quick
enough.
	"You must be Rhonda," the bible-girl closes in on me and hugs
me warmly.  She's covered in rusty hair and freckles over her pale
skin.  She can't hide her scrumptious bod beneath her geeky little
bible-girl suit, and her green eyes just pierce me.  
 	I feel myself go all squishy in her arms, and I realize I
haven't felt another girl's embrace in over half-a-year.
Unconsciously, I hold on, pressing her into me.  She is totally
huggable, and she doesn't freak.  She holds me until I slowly come
back to reality - She's a church-geek, ronni!  Gradually, reluctantly,
I release my embrace.
  	"I'm Loren," she clutches my hands and shakes them.  "It's so
great to finally meet you.  Nicolette has told us so much about you.
I'm so glad to see you're up and doing well.  We have so much to talk
about."  She's a talker, this one.
	"I'm .. Scott," one of the Mormo-guys offers his hand, shaking
mine briskly.  He's scrubbed, and with his red hair and freckles he
could be Loren's brother.  I assume he's not, though, because they
have way different accents.  He sounds like he's from down south; she
sounds like she's from Boston or New York or something.  "It's so nice
to meet you." He still won't let go of my hand, and his thin, wiry
body shakes nervously.  He's a fag - okay, bi probably -- if I ever
met one.  Nothing worse than a fag hiding behind his bible.
	"This is Jason," Nikk blurts out before the other Mormo-boy
can get a word in.  Jason's a big beefy jock-type with short, curly
brown hair.  I notice how Nikki hunches up to him, and the sound in
her voice suddenly registers .. possession.  So that's what's going on
with Nikki Porno.
	I shake Jason's hand, but he seems slightly less comfortable
with my presence than the other two Mormos.  He can't look me in the
eye or any other part of my body, yet I'm conscious that he's
absorbing all of me.  He makes me conscious of what I'm wearing -
white belly T-shirt and cut-offs.  My months at Springvale took off a
few pounds around my tummy, leaving it flat and pierced and demanding
attention.  I smile at Nikk when I see her bible-boy get all wiggy,
but she isn't smiling back.  If anything, she seems pissed at his
reaction, hunching into him more tightly.
	What is up with her?
	"Oh, you're all here," Nikki's mom comes out of the kitchen
suddenly.  "You all must be starved.  Come on in.  Lunch is served."
	The next half-hour or so is a real slice of Bizzaro World.  I
feel like I'm in some episode from Seventh Heaven or something.  We
pray over the fucking tuna salad, and then the conversation turns
lumpy, white and tasteless, just like the Wonder Bread sticking to the
roof of my mouth.  Nikki says about three total words to me, and I
catch Jason's eyes trying not to drool over me about every other
second.
  	Loren, my little rusty-haired treat, single-handedly keeps the
conversation chattering, mostly in my direction.  I envision myself
stuffing my puss in her eager-beaver face and burying my tongue in her
fiery bush.  I've never devoured a real redhead before, and I wonder
if she has freckles all over her body, like on her tummy and her
thighs.  As I eat the tuna salad, I pretend it's her puss, licking the
mayo off my lips and gazing into her piercing green eyes.
	She never releases my gaze, always waiting for me to turn away
first.  After awhile, I don't even look down anymore, just zeroing in
on her, and it's like we're the only two at the table.  I want this
little bible-girl on all fours.  I want to hear her begging me,
praying to ME in her eager-beaver voice.  In fact, I want all three of
them, bare-assed naked and slithering around on the floor in dog
leashes and choke chains.  I've never fucked a bible-geeks before, and
I know they must be horny as hell.  All that talk about sin really has
to fuck their minds into warp-drive.
	So this was Nikki's scam.  Go Jesus and thump the
bible-thumpers, slam the God out of their puny zombie minds.  Total
corruption!  Fucking brilliant, a plan so worthy of me I can't believe
I didn't think of it first.  This way she gets all cock and puss she
wants with no bullshit because she's hanging with 'good kids.'
Judging by the way she's all over Jason, she must be banging him
regularly, which must be why she's pissed he's checking me out.
	But jealousy?  Nikki Porno jealous?  I guess there's a first
for everything.  Like moms says, people change whether we like it or
not.  Still, once we get all naked and tasty with each other that
bullshit will fade away, and we'll be back to where we were, thrashing
the shit out of these lamers.  I just need to play the game cool, like
Nikki.  I can do this, no problem.  Just eat up what they spoon out
until their guard's down, then make them violate each of the Ten
Commandments in order.  Peace of fucking cake!
	After lunch, we go into the living room with more lemonade.
By now I'm dying for a Coke, but I know the Mormos have something
against caffeine or something.  Guess they won't be hanging at Magic
Beans with us then.
 	Everyone finds a seat, and I plop down on the couch right next
to Loren.  Before I know it, she's holding my hand again and starting
another prayer.  "Thank you for leading us to our newest dear Sister,
Rhonda .." she prattles amid all the God-stuff, squeezing my hand and
piercing me with her eyes.
	"Would you like to pray, too, Sister?" Scott asks me after
they're all done.
	Sister?!  Okay, I'll play along.  "I'm not really religious,
bro'," I tell him.  Loren's grip tightens on my hand, and I
instinctively pull away, but she's strong for a geek-girl.
	"You don't have to be 'religious' to pray, Rhonda," Scott
beams.  "You just have to believe someone is listening."
	"That's kind of the problem," I reply.
	"You doubt the Lord, Sister" he nods understandingly.  "Given
what's happened to you, that's understandable."
	"What do you mean by that?"
	"There aren't any secrets here, Rhonda," Scott explains.
"Nicolette has told us pretty much everything about her .. your past."
	"Everything?" I snicker.
	"We're not here to judge anyone, Rhonda, just to pray, just to
lead the lost sheep back to the Lord."  Scott's keeping at me like a
pit-bull, the fire of faith flashing in his eyes every time we lock
eyes.  Or is it something else ..?
	"So you heard about us sucking big nigger dicks for drugs?" I
offer.  "How about when we pimped out those geek girls to the niggers
for shit.  Or the old fart we fucked so hard he had a fucking stroke.
You know about all that, Jason?" I turn my attention to him.
	He's hardly spoken all afternoon.  I can tell he's trying
everything in his power not to rape me with his eyes, rape the wild
little thrasher girl he's been hearing so much about.  His cock is so
hard he can't even sit up straight.  He's beyond temptation.  I've got
his ass pussy-whipped, and he hasn't even had a taste yet.   Poor
little bible-boy wants a thrill fuck, he wants to bang the little
wild-child.  Okay, baby, once I get this whole scam figured out with
Nikki Porno, we'll be getting biblical on your cherry geek ass.  We'll
thump you so silly your dick will look like it was wearing a crown of
thorns. 
	"W.. would you leave Jason alone?" Nikki's voice seems to have
lost all its strength inside that stupid flowered dress.  "Please,
Rhonda, just .."
	"Just what?" I laugh.  "Enough with all this shit, Nikk.
Let's blow this lamer crusade and go thrifting.  Come on, p --.  You
can go to bible study some other time."
	"We're here to pray with you today, Rhonda," Scott re-enters
the fray.
	"And why should I pray?" I snap back.
	"You're looking for peace, Rhonda," Scott nods his head like
he's some kind of fucking authority on ME.  "It's right here in front
of you.  You will find peace with the Lord.  You just need to open
your heart to him."
	"Sorry, don't think he's listening .."
	"You've had a troubling few years.  I know God seems like he's
not there to you, but he is.  He's been here the whole time, you just
haven't opened your eyes.  When we experience personal crisis, even
the noblest among us often turn away from Him when we need Him the
most.  He's always there, though, waiting patiently."  He pauses when
I don't automatically react with a ready 'Amen' or 'Hallelujah.'
"Tell you what ..?" he offers.  "Would you do something for yourself?"
	"What?"
	"Just try praying with us .. one prayer?" he asks.
	"Why?"
	"It might make you feel better," he gives me this patronizing
smile that makes me want to shove a dildo up his skinny, white,
freckle-covered ass.
	"I don't think so," I try to laugh, hoping that'll back him
off.
	"Why not at least try?" he presses
	"I'm not going to become a Mormon," I blurt out.  "You're
wasting your time, okay ..?  No offense," I add when I see Nikki shoot
me another pissed-off look.
	"Rhonda," Nikki kind of started scolding me.  "Remember you
said you'd wait until .."
	"I know what I said," I cut her off.  "But I didn't know this
was about all this Mormon crap.  No offense," I add again, "but no
way, okay ..?"
	"We're not asking you to do anything but pray with us,
Rhonda," Loren starts in on me now, her hands are like freckle-covered
lobster claws.
	"Fuck that," I fire back, loving the sound of the word
slamming into their holier-than-Jesus ear-drums.  "I'll sit here and
play all nice with you geeks, but I ain't praying to your fucking God.
I don't care what scam you got going here, Nikk, that's bullshit, and
you know it."
	"I'm not sure I understand what's upset you so much, Rhonda
.?" Scott tries to be peacemaker.  "Why don't we just calm down for a
moment and .."
	"No need to calm down," I get up from the couch, reaching for
my crutch.  Fucking thing.  How the fuck am I supposed to make an exit
when I'm reaching for a fucking crutch.  "I'm out of here.  You guys
have a fucking ball, okay ..?"  I storm out the door as best I can,
and I'm hobbling half-way up the street before I notice the car pull
up alongside me.
	"Rhonda, at least let us drive you home," a voice calls from
the front passenger window.
	It's the two bible-boys minus Big Red.  She must be staying
behind with Nikki.  I imagine Nikk's pretty pissed at me right now.
Serves her fucking right.  She knows how I feel about bible bullshit.
Then it strikes me.  She DOES know how I feel about bible bullshit.
That's what was wigging her out all this time .. yesterday on the
phone, today when I got to her house.  She knew how I'd react.  That's
why she was begging me to 'wait and see.'
	She's serious.  Nikki Porno is serious.  Nikki Porno is
fucking Nikki Mormo.  If I didn't have a million icy daggers of pain
shooting up my leg, I'd be laughing my fucking ass off.  Then an image
slices across my brain, and for an instant I see Nikki Porno, sitting
in church and praying like some geeked-out cult zombie.  Not if I can
fucking help it!
 	I bend my foot the wrong way and stumble.  In a second, I'm
smooching the concrete.  Then I hear the car's breaks screech, and an
instant later I'm eyeball-to-eyeball with Jason.  With his big hands,
the bible-boy gently pries my face off the pavement.
	"Are you all right?" he asks, quickly joined by Scott.
Together they pull me up into a sitting position.
	"You're in no condition to walk all the way home," Scott
chimes in.  "Help me get her into the back seat."
	I don't say anything as they lift me off the ground and start
towards their gray Chevy Citation.  I've got their geeky,
bible-thumping asses right where I want them.  If Nikki Porno wants to
go all God on me, then she deserves to see the whole story, the whole
TRUTH.  She needs to see what these bible-thumping geeks are all
about, for her own fucking good.
 	"My leg is numb," I whine as they open the back door and slide
me into the seat.  "I think I twisted it somehow.  Do either of you
know First Aid?"
	"I do," Jason volunteers.  "Scott, you drive," he orders while
he climbs in the back with me.
	Scott hesitates a second, then goes around to the front.
Jason closes the back door behind us.  In a few seconds, we're on the
road.
	"Should we go to the hospital?" Scott asks.
	"Hold on, let me check out her leg," Jason replies as his
hands start feeling up my bare white calves.  "Can you feel that?"
	"I guess," I nod, doing my best porno-star pout.  "The more
you rub it, yeah .. I can feel it more now.  Since the accident, I
sometimes I lose feeling in it.  My therapist says I need to get it
massages then to stimulate the nerves.  That feels real good.  Keep
doing that .. Yeah, right there."
  	I'm giving him my best ronni-slut voice, and it's working.
He's shifting uncomfortably in the backseat.   I rub my bare leg
against his crotch, and he fucking spazzes like I just gave him a
million volts, but not before I feel a pudgy growing in the pouch of
his double-knit suit pants.  So, bible-boy's got some action going.  I
continue wriggling my legs, and no matter where he moves my bare
calves and thighs are all over him.
	Suddenly we lock eyes and I lift up my white belly T-shirt.
His gaze leaves mine and just glides down my neck to my pierced nips.
I tug the two rings, pulling my nips out a full inch, his eyes
practically bugging out the same length.  The rest of him is just
frozen, though, and the only other things moving are his hands, which
continue stroking up and down my bare legs.
	"Take it out," I whisper to him, but loud enough so Scott can
hear.  The bible-boy behind the steering wheel shoots his eyes back
for a second.  I tug my nips again to give him a shot, then reach up
and start rubbing the pudgy in Jason's lap.  "Come on, baby," I whine.
"Jesus, it's so fucking hard.  You've gotta have a monster cock in
there, bible-boy.  Take it out, pleeeease.  I wanna see it," I
porno-pout.  "I'll suck it if you take it out.  I promise I will.  I
just gotta see your dick, gotta feel it in my hands.  It's been such a
long time since I had a hot hard cock.  I'll do anything, please, just
take it out."
	"Jason .." Scott starts.
	"I want your cock, too, stud," I cut him off.  "Take me back
to your apartment.  You fucking guys have an apartment, don't you ..?"
	"Yes," Jason barely chokes.
	"Take me back there and fuck my brains out.  My fucking pussy
is so wet.  I haven't had  hard cock in seven months.  I just want to
fuck and suck all afternoon long, you know.  Just take out that big
dick of yours, baby."  I lean over and lick the bulge in his polyester
double-knits.  "I am so fucking hungry for cock."  I start tearing at
his fly now and he lifts his ass off the car seat.
	When I get his pants open, he scoots them down, then tears at
the waistband of his jockey shorts.  I open the bottom buttons of his
white shirt and kiss his stomach.  Suddenly I feel his firm, strong
hands on the top of my head and he's shoving my face down his bas
until his cock knock snaps up and knocks against my chin.
	"Oh, shit .." he gasps as he forces my lips over the head of
his prick and jams his hips up, driving his cock shaft up along my
tongue. "Oh .. oh .. oh .." he repeats, speaking every time he plows
his prick up into my throat.
	So, the bible-boy isn't so holier-than-thou after all.  I
wonder if Nikk knows that her big bad boyfriend likes to jam fuck
girls in the fucking throat.  He's really giving it to me, too.  Who
knows how many years of Jesus he's trying to fuck out of the end of
his dick.  My fucking neck hurts he's bouncing my head up and down so
hard around his cock.  I'm out of practice.  I work my hands around
his balls and try to ease my lips off his prick and give him some
tongue.  But he just keeps jamming his prick up into my mouth, butting
his cock head all the way back past my tonsils.
	Bible-boy doesn't have a bad cock either, around
seven-and-a-half inches judging by the feel in my throat.
	"Shit, man, fuck her throat," I hear Scott's hoarse whisper
cut above the sound of Jason's "ohs."  I feel the car stop and listen
to Scott slam the shift into park.
	"You want some of this, bible-boy," I gasp as I finally tear
my mouth of Jason's cock and twirl my tongue-stud around the rim of
his prick-helmet then spear it deep in his piss-hole.
	"Oh, Jesus fuck .." Jason moans, running his hands through my
hair.  "Jesus fucking Christ .. suck it .. suck it .."  He slams my
mouth back down on his dick, and a second later it starts burping a
thick load of Mormo-splooge.
	I let bible-boy's cum gush out of the corners of my mouth so I
look like I just choked on a McDonalds vanilla shake.  I smile, keep
licking Jason's dribbling piss hole and turn to Scott.  "I'm still
thirsty," I whine.
	"Wipe that shit off your face," he snaps at me, his eyes
bugging out wildly.  "If someone from the stake sees us we're going to
be in deep shit."
	"Chill, Scott," Jason has suddenly become Mr. Cool now that
he's jam fucked my throat.  "Wipe your face off on my shirt," he tells
me, leaving the flaps of his white shirt untucked as he gets his cock
all snug in his jockeys and zips up.
	I do as he says.  Then they quickly open the door and Scott
gets out.  His eyes dart around all jittery and paranoid, like he's
had a shit-load of bong hits, then he waves at me and Jason that the
coast is clear.  Jason picks me up in his arms and sprints up the back
steps of this apartment building.  A few seconds later, I'm in this
dingy two-bedroom deal.  Scott starts closing the curtains and pulling
down his pants at the same time.
	I laugh when I see his little four-inch prick, all hard and
red, like a beat.  His whole lower body is flushed, and it makes his
pale freckled torso look pink in comparison.  I nip at his small,
stubborn dick and he grabs me by the hair like he saw Jason do.  "Oh,
suck it, shit .. suck me cock," he moans as I inhale his skinny, red
cock.  "Oh, fuck .. Jesus Christ .. FUCK!" he yelps suddenly as a
flood of bible-boy cum spurts into my mouth.  "Oh fuck .. I came .. I
fucking came .. FUCK!"
	"That's all right, bible-boy, it'll stay hard," I giggle.
"Get over here," I tell Jason.  He already has his cock out and
wagging in my face.  I grip both pricks and suck them into my mouth
together.
	When they feel their cocks slip sliding against each other,
the bible-boys start freaking and trying o pull away, but this time
I'm the one in control.  I close my jaws and fingers down around their
pricks and start bobbing my head back and forth, stuffing both their
pricks as deep into my mouth as they will go.  The fact that their
dicks are touching each other and the feel is getting them off starts
my puss-juices flooding.
	Fucking bible-boys are all closet fags, and they've probably
been dying to suck each others' dicks for months.  But Jesus won't let
them.  Well, fuck Him, because He's not here.  Ronni's here now, and
ronni wants to see these two bible-boys get all queer with each other.
	Not that I'm going to have any problems.  They're all cozy in
my mouth now, slip sliding away and smiling at each other like
drooling crack-heads.
	"Keep him hard," I tell Scott as I back my lips off their
pricks and start scooting out of my T- and cut offs.  "Jack him with
your hand," I order the skinny, pale redhead.  He obeys without
thinking, his mouth watering as he pumps and slithers his fingers up
and down his bible-buddy's hard cock-shaft.  "He's nice and big, isn't
he ..?" I egg Scott on and lick his balls.  "Isn't he ..?"
	"Mm hm .." Scott grins, starting to turn red with
embarrassment.  He's still stroking, though, harder than ever.
Jason's just gritting his teeth, frozen in disbelief at how good his
bible-buddy's hand feels pumping his meat.  He kind of reaches up with
his hand, then, and strokes the back of Scott's neck.
	"Get down on your knees, bible-boys."  I tug at Scott, and
he's down next to me in a second, not losing his grip on Jason's dick
for one second.  "You, too, stud," I tell Jason, who slowly sinks to
his knees, too.  "Now you stuff that big cock of his up my puss," I
order Scott, spinning around, lowering my face to the carpet, arching
my back and sticking my ass up in the air.
	Scott obeys and I can him feel him clumsily trying to stick
Jason's cock-head inside my pussy.  As he bumps it against my labes, I
get even wetter.
	"Come on, man," Jason grunts in frustration.  "Get it in there
.. I can't .. Oh FUCK!" he growls when he finally slips inside.  I
tense my puss and make him grunt every inch inside me.  "FUCK!  FUCK!
FUCK!  That is so God damned tight!"
	"Play with his balls now while he fucks my puss," I tell
Scott.  "Play with your little bible-buddy's balls.  You like that,
don't you, bible-boy, playing with bible-buddy's big hairy balls ..?"
	Scott nods dumbly, and just keeps nodding while Jason begins
slamming his cock in my, slapping his lower belly into my ass.  His
cock feel so huge in my puss.  I haven't had a hard cock inside me for
months, and the flesh inside is so tender it feels like it's tearing.
His cock head feels like rubber mallet pounding up inside my stomach,
and I start bucking my hips back to meet ever slam.
	"Get down underneath there and lick my puss while he fucks
me," I hiss at Scott.  I feel him wedge his face beneath my cunt and
his tongue stb up at the top of my puss.  "That bump right on top
there.  That's my fucking clit, bible-boy, right under that flap of
skin.  Stick your fucking tongue right fucking there.  That's it,
right fucking there.  That's all right.  You can lick his big dick,
too, when it comes sliding out.  You don't mind him licking your dick,
do you, bible-boy ..?" I ask Jason.  "You don't mind if your little
bible-body licks your cock and balls while you fuck my pussy, do you
.?"
	"FUCK!" is all Jason replies.  He starts tearing away inside
me so hard, fast and deep that I can feel the outside air sucking up
into tummy after every back-thrust.  Scott's tongue is everywhere - my
clit-hood, Jason's cock, Jason's balls, snaking between my labes
alongside Jason's dick and double-stuffing my puss.
	"I want to cum so bad," I whine, enjoying my utter mastery
over them.  "But I can't.  You're fucking me so good, but I just can't
cum.  You want to make me cum, don't you..?"
	"Yes," Jason grunts.  "Yes .."
	"I need you to pray to God to let me cum," I hiss, slapping my
ass back into his belly and feeling him impale my puss all the way up
to his balls.  "You both have to pray to God and beg him to let me
cum.  Please .. I want to cum so bad .."
	"God, please let ronni cum!" Jason hisses.  "I beseech you,
Lord.  Please let her cum while I fuck her.  I want to feel her cunt
cum while cock is inside it."
	"Please, God," Scott  follows suit.  "Let ronni cum.  Please!"
	"I can feel HIM," I cry.  "I can feel God inside me now.  Can
you feel him?" I wail.  "Can you feel God inside my cunt with your
cock, fucking me.  Can you feel God fucking me right alongside you?
Can you feel him?"
	"Yes," Jason bawls.  "I can feel God with us."
	"I can, too," Scott sobs.
	"Tell God to fuck me," I snarl.  "Say 'Fuck her, God.  Fuck
ronni's tight, teenage cunt!'"
	"Fuck her, God!" both bible-boys exhort in unison.  "Fuck
ronni's tight teenage cunt!"
	"More .. I need more prayer to deliver me," I hiss.
	The two bible-boys are yelling at the tops of their lungs now
for God to fuck my cunt.  I grind my hips around in circles trying to
stroke the inside of my puss with every inch of Jason's stiff prick.
I am so fucking close to cumming, but I can't.  Something is wrong.
Something is missing.
	Out of the corner of my eye, I spot my purse.  My mind wanders
a moment to earlier that day - Nikki's house, my house, last night in
bed, the fantasy of the gang-rape, performing in front of TV cameras
for everyone to see, back to this morning, waking up, then this
afternoon, talking to moms in the kitchen before I left for Nikki's -
scenes swirling around until they all jumble into one crystal-clear
image.
	Fuck YES!
	I reach for my purse, and as Jason and Scott beseech God to
fuck me and make me cum I snatch out my cell phone.  I dial Nikki's
number without thinking.
	"Hello?" Nikki Porno's voice answers.
	I turn the phone receiver up.  Jason and Scott are totally
fucking clueless, and they just keep screaming.  "Fuck her, God.  Fuck
ronni's cunt.  Make her cum, God.  Please let ronni cum!"
	"Did you ever fuck Nikki like this, baby?" I ask Jason as he
batters into me.
	"Fuck no," he grunts, oblivious to the fact she's listening to
every word.
	"She wouldn't let you touch her, huh .. since she found God
.?" I keep at him.
	"No, fucking slut .." he gasps.
	"That's why you started going out with her isn't it, coz you
knew she was a fucking slut and you could get some, huh ..?"
	"Fucking slut won't even let me see her tits .."
	"You just want to fuck cunts, don't you ..?  And get your big
hard cock sucked, huh ..?"
	"Fuck, yeah!"
	"Did you like how I sucked your cock, baby?"
	"Fuck yeah!"
	"How does my puss feel fucking your hard cock, baby?"
	"Fucking excellent .. fucking tight teenage cunt!"
	"Fuck Jesus, and fuck my tight cunt, huh ..?"
	"Yeah, fuck Jesus and fuck your tight cunt .." 
	I don't know how long Nikki listens to this.  When I put the
phone back to my ear, there's just silence.  I dial again, and after a
few rings it's Nikki's mom who picks up.  "Hello?" she asks.
 	Pressing the phone to my face and trying to cut off all the
background noise, I manage to steady my voice.  "Th..this is ronni," I
speak slowly.  "Could you tell Nikki I'm all right.  In fact, I'm over
here at Jason's and Scott's apartment praying right now.  Tell her I
think everything's going to be all right now."
	"Don't you call here or speak to my daughter ever again you ..
you whore!"
	"Is Loren still there?" I ask all sweet-and-innocent.  "Tell
her we have another spot open in the prayer circle if she's
interested."
	CLICK!
	As soon as the phone slams in my ear, I cum like a hot wave of
lava imploding inside my tummy.  I'm only slightly aware of Jason
pumping a load of bible-spunk into me before sliding out of my puss
and finding Scott's mouth.  Out of the corner of my consciousness, I
watch the two bible-buddy's cuddle up to one another and slowly,
cautiously begin exploring each other's bodies.
	Time stands still, then, as I drift lazily down off the peak
of my fuck and float back into my body.  When everything becomes solid
again, Scott's and Jason's bodies are wrapped up inside each other,
joined in a 69 with Scott on top.
	I crawl over to them and start slapping Scott's ass hard until
it pinks up on me.  In my purse, I get out some moisturizer and grease
his sphinx open until I can get three whole fingers up there.  "You
want his big dick up your ass, don't you, bible-boy ..?" I hiss as I
slap Scott's bony white ass.  "You want to feel him split you open
with that hard cock of his, don't you ..?"
	All Scott can do is whimper.  I push him off Jason and sit
down across his shoulders, facing his ass.  I continue beating his
cherry white ass with one hand and grabbing Jason's hard-on with the
other.  I pull him up so that he crawls over us.  He looks at me and
bites his lip.  I point to Scott's ass and pry it wide open with my
fingers.  Scott keeps whimpering, trying to sound like he doesn't want
the ass fucking he craves.
	"Fuck the little bible-boy's ass, stud." I yank Jason down
onto Scott by his cock.  "I got him all greased up and ready.  You
think my puss was tight, wait 'til you sink that cock-meat into his
cherry white shinx.  Look at it.  All puckered and ready to be
popped."  I press his cock-head down so that it slides into Scott's
pale, freckled ass crack.
	Jason is biting his lip so hard it's bleeding.  I kiss him and
suck his blood into my mouth, letting some dribble out the corners of
my mouth.  I slap Scott's ass again while Jason looks on, stroking his
cock against Scott's tight white buns.  I pry open Scott's cherry
white ass even further, and he bawls something unintelligible.
	"Fuck it!" I hiss under my breath.
	Closing his eyes, Jason shudders his cock head between Scott's
ass-cheeks and then slowly skewers his little bible-buddy while the
smaller boy thrashes around bleating like a sacrificial lamb.
	"FUCK!" Jason's whole body shivers with every thrust up
Scott's tight ass pipe.  As he begins to pick up the pace into a
steady pounding, I rub my puss against Scott's bony shoulder blades
and hump the wind out of his gasping lungs.
	This is the exact position we're in when the door opens and
Loren storms in, her red-hair raging like frizzy fire.  An old guy and
two other bible-boys in suits follow her into the dingy apartment.
Everyone starts screaming.  I climb off Scott and start getting
dressed.  They are all screaming at each other, but no one says a word
to me except Loren, and all she does is scream the word "Whore" in my
face over and over again until one of the new bible-boys drags her
away.
	"Hey, let's do this again sometime," I smirk once I'm outside
the apartment and in the hall.  Loren dives at me from the couch, but
she's held back.  When I close the door, the last thing I see is Jason
and Scott, naked, their limp cocks glistening with each other's spit.
They are crying at the feet of the old man while the others huddle on
the couch, praying at the tops of their lungs.  I make it down the
stairs and out onto the street without even using my crutch.
	I have no idea where I am, and I don't care.  I just start
walking, knowing I'll find my way back somehow.  I'm home now.  MY
MIND!  MY FUCKING MIND!