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Subject: BOMBADIL: "Whitewash" Part 3 of 3
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Whitewash - 3 / 3 

Story #4
by Tom Bombadil  (c) Dec 1996

Disclaimer:  All the standard rules apply.  If you are offended 
by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is 
illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are 
under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you 
might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this 
text from your computer.

This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions
described by me coming straight out of my imagination.  As a work 
of fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities 
or actions described, nor does it relate to any type of real 
events in my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my 
friends or relatives.

You've been warned.

I give permission for anyone to share or archive this story.

********************************************************************

Saturday morning, at seven a.m. sharp, I was at Dirty Dick's door.  
Cindy greeted me with a quick, furtive kiss, then escorted me to 
the kitchen.  Breakfast was being served and I was to help with 
the serving.  Eight men, besides Dick, were there, and they all 
took great delight in pinching both me and Cindy until my bottom 
felt black and blue.  Other than that, we were ignored.

After breakfast, they all disappeared into the far reaches of the 
mansion.  Cindy, Tanya, and I had the rest of the morning to talk.  

I told both of them a little of how I'd been trapped, but not the 
details.

Cindy said she was a victim of blackmail.  Her husband was having 
a very public affair with his secretary, one that only he and the 
woman thought was a secret.  In a moment of anger and stupidity, 
Cindy had a brief, very intense fling with a local workman.  Their 
tryst was at a cheap and seedy motel, and was their one and only 
meeting.  Unfortunately, somehow Dirty Dick had managed to video 
tape the proceedings without her knowledge.  Since at the time she 
had no job, no training, and an eleven year old daughter she didn't 
want to lose, she couldn't afford a divorce.  She had also been told 
by Dick that she'd be tied to him for five years.  She had less than 
two to go.

Tanya had a similar story, except that her husband was a violent, 
very jealous man.  She was afraid that if he found out she'd 
cuckolded him, he would, quite literally, beat her to death.  It 
had happened at the same motel, and Dick had the video tape.  She 
had just over two years to go of the five Dick had claimed as his.

"What, did you get married when you were sixteen?"  I meant it as 
a joke.  She looked far too young to have been married for more 
than four years.

"No.  I was a pregnant fifteen year old bride.  My parents 
insisted."  She had been forced into a loveless marriage, to a man 
that she now thought to be an asshole.  She never said what happened 
to the baby.

What made things worse for both was the fact that Dick also had 
video footage of both their husbands with other women, and in 
Cindy's case, with someone else besides just the secretary.  He 
laughed at their indignant words, saying that the men were free to 
do as they pleased, because he, Dick, had no use for them.  The 
women, though, were useful sluts.

My hatred for that man grew deeper.  He was a total bastard.

One thing they both said, one thing that gave me a sliver of hope, 
was that Dick did let loose his properties after the five years.  
Three other women had been freed after their tenure during Cindy's 
enslavement.  The one that had tried to cause problems afterwards 
had ended up in jail for armed robbery, assault, and a host of other 
charges.  According to Tanya, she had been sentenced to fifteen 
years in prison for crimes both Cindy and Tanya knew the woman had 
never committed.

That stinking bastard.

Lunch was served.  All nine men were back, so the pinching resumed, 
only it was continued on posteriors and breasts.  Dick laughed when 
I cried out in pain.

"Easy now.  Don't damage the merchandise.  We'll need it hale and 
hearty for later!"

Those words sent a shiver of fear through me.  Whatever they had 
planned for later, I knew I wanted no part of it.

After lunch, they disappeared again.  The two women and I talked 
about Dirty Dick some more.  Our descriptions of him became rather 
acerbic, and provided some colour as they told me what they knew 
of his dealings.

He apparently had business ties, both legitimate and shady, 
throughout our town and every other community within a hundred 
miles.  The sales job he had was just a front to justify his income 
and his travelling.  Most of the sales he made were to associates of 
one kind or another, but there were enough of those to keep him at 
a decent six figure income.  They had no idea where the rest of his 
money came from, but one possibility was blackmail, the same way 
those two had been roped in.  They knew nothing else, so we started 
talking about other, far lighter subjects.

Dinner was subdued.  Apparently there was some sort of disagreement 
between two factions within the group.  What, I don't know, but 
the split was obvious, and appeared to be serious.  There was no 
playful pinching, but when Cindy dropped a glass, one of the men 
gave her a very hard slap on her rear.  Her scream of pain brought 
a smile to a few of their faces.  That fear I'd had earlier came 
back.

After dinner, the men left to talk for a while.  We cleaned up, then 
were ordered to join them.

When Dick started up a video, I was quite literally shocked to my 
toes!  There were Cindy and I locked in an embrace.  He'd taped 
that too!  The utter bastard!

The men looked at the video, then looked at us, and laughed.  One 
asked Dick if he could give them a live show, as a sort of warm up.  
He shrugged, and said sure.  He looked at me with the hardest, 
grimmest expression I have ever seen.  He told me that I would 
perform, or else.

Cindy, apparently, was quite adept at putting on shows.  She 
stripped rather sexily for the men, and then, because I was 
incapable of movement, or even real thought, slowly removed my 
clothing as well.  She lowered me down onto my back and started 
kissing and fondling me.  There was no way I could respond to her 
in front of all those leering, evil faces.  No way!  So she tried 
to fake it for both of us.  She climbed on top, in a sixty nine, 
slurped loudly at my slit, which was the only one they could see, 
and moaned and groaned and wiggled and bounced around like she was 
at the height of passion.  I was frozen as stiff as a board, but I 
thought she managed to fool them all into thinking we were both 
going crazy with lust.

They watched us, they watched the video, and they had Tanya blowing 
each of them in turn.  She did them all, one right after the other.  
I know I would have been physically ill after the second one.

When Cindy was finished, and the videos were finished, and Tanya 
was finished, one of the men, the ugliest, I think, said it was 
time for the real entertainment to begin.  Cindy started to 
whimper, and that sound finally broke through the ice.  She was 
scared.  Her fear drove icicles down my spine.  I started to get up, 
preparing to run for my life, when two of them grabbed me.  Two more 
grabbed Cindy.  They dragged us into a part of the mansion I'd never 
been in before, into a room that horrified me.  I swear to you it 
was the reincarnation of Tomas de Torquemada's favourite workshop.

Cindy was strapped onto a rack, face down.  I was placed in stocks 
and secured.  I couldn't see her, but I could hear her.  The 
screams, then the bubbling whimpers, were horrible.  My turn came 
all too soon.  They all gathered around.  Each of them showed me 
his favourite implement, letting me get worked up for my incipient 
beating.  They then demonstrated their toys on my body.  Each of 
them had a turn.  Then they each took another turn.  I guess my 
screams annoyed them because one man stuffed a gag in my mouth and 
fastened it around my head.

They each took another swing.  My back was on fire, my ass burned, 
and my thighs felt like they'd been flayed.  Never had I felt pain 
like that before.

One man took another swing, a very hard one, and hit my left leg.  
It felt like I'd been sliced to the bone.  Something trickled down 
past my knee.  The sudden agony brought on a flood of adrenalin, 
constricting my throat, and causing my heart to pound madly.  I 
found it very hard to suck in enough air through my nose alone, and 
was soon feeling quite lightheaded.  The dizziness made me rather 
ill, and almost made me lose both lunch and dinner.  Not wanting to 
drown in my own upheavings, I fought desperately to reign in my 
recalcitrant stomach.  

Dick, to his slimy credit, tried to call a halt to the proceedings.  
The ugliest one told him that he should, in the interests of all, 
"allow Joseph to work out his deeply held frustrations on the 
worthless cunt.  He'll be much more reasonable after watching her 
bleed for a while."

I whimpered, and wondered if I would survive.  There were five more 
blows, widely spaced, all vicious, before I passed out.

When I came to, I was in a bed, and in a world of hurt.  My 
memory was a bit clouded, but I remembered every one of those 
last six blows in agonizing detail.  That asshole's egregious 
display of cruelty had left me nearly paralyzed with pain.  Cindy 
was lying in another bed not too far away.  If I hadn't been facing 
in that direction, I probably would never have known it was her, as 
lifting and turning my head seemed like an impossible task.

Tanya came in and rubbed something into Cindy's shoulders.  Her 
whimpers told me that she was in pain too.  It was the scream she 
let loose when the young woman tried to massage her knees that told 
me she'd been hurt as badly as me.

When Tanya started rubbing some sort of cream into my back, I passed 
out again.

**********

Dirty Dick drove me home that afternoon.  He seemed nervous.

"If your husband tries something stupid, like coming after me, he'll 
get himself killed.  If my security people don't get him, my friends 
will, just for their own protection.  That's assuming you're stupid 
enough to tell him the truth.  Give him some sort of cock and bull 
story about being abducted off the street and raped.  A tale like 
that will keep him happy and in the dark."

I didn't answer him.  Most of my concentration went into sitting 
there without crying out in pain.  The rest was a thousand miles 
away.

"I'll arrange for you to have Monday and Tuesday off, with pay.  
Wednesday, you'll be at work as usual."  The steel came back into 
his voice.  "Wednesday night, I have further use for you, even 
damaged.  You will be there, or you will face worse than you have 
already received.  Do you understand me?"  When I didn't answer, 
he clipped me on the shoulder.  That hurt beyond words.  "I said, 
do you understand me, slut?"

"Yes, Mr. Small.  I have Monday and Tuesday to recuperate.  
Wednesday, I go to work, and Wednesday night I'm to be at your 
place, or else.  Also, I'm to tell my husband some sort of lie to 
keep him from doing something stupid, like tracing you down and 
killing you.  I understand."

He stared hard at me, as though there was something in my voice 
he didn't like.  My face was set in a mask of pain, I knew, because 
that's what I felt.  Nothing else could have gotten through.

"Jane, believe me, I didn't want this to happen to you.  It was 
not intentional.  I don't damage my property like that without a 
good reason, and there wasn't really a good reason.  Just an 
associate with a gripe, and a really mean streak.  I hope you 
understand that this probably won't happen again."

Probably.  No guarantees.  Me, his slut, his property.  He didn't 
like to damage it without good reason.  What did he consider good 
reason?  The pain made me ill, almost bad enough to throw up in 
his nice new beemer.  If I had, would he have thrown it away and 
bought himself another one?  If I died, or became useless, would he 
throw me away and trap himself another slut?  I gave up thinking.  
The pain was too much.

**********

John was, well, I don't know.  Furious, but controlled.  I gave him 
the line like Dick had suggested, but he told me not to bother lying 
anymore.  He wanted the truth.

"Jane, I love you.  Whatever is going on, whatever trouble you are 
in, no matter what happens, I will still love you.  Please, please, 
if you really love me, please tell me the truth.  What is really 
going on?  What happened?"

I broke down.  Everything came spilling out.  From the first little 
fix of an expense, to the torture I'd been forced to endure.  He 
asked me questions, then started getting more details from me about 
things I thought totally unimportant.  Then he put some ointment on 
my back, telling me it would ameliorate the hurt.  It did, 
stinging at first, then a delicious coolness spread all over.  
After that came some painkillers and sleeping pills, and then bed.

For the next two days, I lay in bed, slept, and had my back, bottom,  
and thighs anointed with various substances.  The constant supply of 
painkillers left me rather fuzzy and lethargic.  My husband never 
let me do a damned thing, even when I felt fit enough to at least 
sit unaided.  Telling me not to be stupid, he said that if we were 
careful and didn't stretch or damage the skin any worse, I might not 
have scars.  That was supposed to make me feel better, but I was in 
no mood for small palliatives.  He asked me questions, many of them, 
about what Dick had made me do, about Cindy, about Tanya, and about 
how I felt all the way through.  He seemed fascinated by my 
admissions, and by what I'd done.  There was also something deep 
behind his eyes, something he didn't want me to see, and it scared 
the hell out of me.  It reminded me a bit of what the ugly brute 
looked like when he'd told Dick to allow my whipping to continue.

John insisted that I follow through on my Wednesday trip to Dick's.  
I didn't want to.  I wanted to leave, to run away.  I wanted to 
sell our house, quit my job, and go hide somewhere.  John wouldn't 
hear of it.  That's when I realized that I didn't really know my 
husband, didn't really know the man I married.

**********

We met when I was a junior in college.  I was getting over my ex 
boyfriend at the time.  John was a labourer - rough, good looking, 
dressed for hard work, but much more civil and polite than his 
co-workers.  He noticed my looks, and invited himself to my table, 
and to a cup of coffee.  His jokes and witty conversation made me 
feel much better, even though I hadn't been looking for company.  
He also never asked for my last name, or my phone number, or address, 
and never offered to walk me home.  That, I really appreciated, 
since that made it a nice, one-time, totally random, nothing more 
to it, lunch.  

Two weeks later I saw him in another restaurant.  He was at another 
table, again with some of his co-workers, and saw me.  He waved, so 
I smiled back in recognition.  He never came over to my table, which 
is what I was half hoping for and half dreading.  When he was 
leaving, he stopped for just a few seconds to say high, nice to see 
you, bye.  And left.

A week later, back at the first restaurant, I saw him again.  He was 
sitting alone, as was I.  He saw me looking, waved, and I smiled 
back.  Since he didn't move, I did.  We had another wonderful lunch, 
and I gave him my phone number, unasked.  He'd made quite an 
impression on me.  I could tell by his conversation that, despite 
the fact that he worked as a carpenter's apprentice, he'd been to 
a university somewhere, and was smarter than most of the jerks in 
my classes.

So the labourer and the business major started dating.  We went to 
a few parties, we went to some nightclubs, we went to some dances.  
He was protective of me, guarded me well, but didn't smother me.  
He also let me know, without saying anything outright, that if I 
wanted out, at any time, he'd just leave, and that would be that.  
One thing he never did do was to tell me of his past.  He said his 
parents were dead, victims of a drunk driver, that his brother was 
also dead, victim of a boating accident, and that his sister had 
vanished one day without a trace.  He had no family, and, 
apparently, no history in town, since all his friends were recent.  
He did admit to moving here rather suddenly, and to having a little 
more than a high school education.  Other than that, and declaring 
that he was almost exactly two years older than me, nothing.

Two and a half years later, one year and one month after my 
graduation, we were married.  I was a virgin bride.

**********

Wednesday at work was worse than I'd thought possible.  Dirty Dick, 
the Dastardly Dipstick, Demanded a Deepthroat job first thing in the 
morning.  I had to be nude, and he ran his hands all over my very 
tender back, bottom, and legs.  That blew my concentration, and I 
let a bit of his spend dribble out.  He considered it three drops 
worth, so he gave me what he considered three very light blows with 
his belt.  I quite literally collapsed because of the pain.  He left 
me alone to recover, not offering to help in the least.

All through the day, I couldn't sit for more than a few minutes 
without having to get up and move, just to relieve the burning.  
Word quickly spread around the office that something was wrong, but 
I ignored everyone's attempts to find out what.  The end of the day 
couldn't come fast enough.

Dick drove us out to his place.  He was in a gleeful, talkative 
mood, and seemed willing to expound upon anything I wanted.  I asked 
him about me and the expense account.

The dirty bastard told me outright that I'd been set up, that he and 
John's boss were pals, and that my husband's hours had been tailored 
to Dick's desires.  The same went with the expense account bit.  I 
was given the responsibility because he knew I needed the money and 
I was susceptible.  Then he'd waited to spring his trap.  There had 
been no inquiries from the accounting office at all.  

He'd lied to me.  Lied!  Everything he'd ever said became 
apocryphal.  Now it was too late for any worries, according to him, 
because I was his, completely and totally, and there was no way he 
was going to let me go.  At least, not until the five years were 
up.

Another thing he told me was that I would be his 'special intangible 
benefit' for securing a number of difficult contracts.  He had been 
using Tanya, but said it would be easier for him to use me from then 
on, and I'd better get used to it.  He said he'd even share thirty 
percent of his commissions with me!  The unfeeling bastard!

I began to wonder if I shouldn't just dump my husband, my job, and 
everything else, and run away, if only to save my life and my 
sanity.  Thoughts of losing John, and losing Cindy, almost made break 
down and start crying again.  There was no way I could do that, I 
thought.  

There was only one guest at Dick's place that night, but he made up 
for his singularity by being the biggest, ugliest, crudest looking 
gorilla I'd ever seen.  The monster had to be seven feet tall and 
four hundred pounds.  He looked bigger than those actors you see in 
professional wrestling!  And ugly!  Once upon a time, he might have 
been decent looking.  A face full of scars, brands, and tattoos, had 
changed him into a personification of horror.  Multiple layers of 
ripped, dirty, smelly clothing completed the picture.

We had dinner.  Tanya was cooking, and I was serving.  He only 
pinched me once, stopping after I screamed and collapsed in pain.  
He'd hit one of those severe spots.  I managed to finish serving, 
after a short period of recovery.

He and Dirty Dick disappeared for a while after dinner, so Tanya and 
I cleaned up and talked a bit.  It turned out that she'd seen the 
guy around a few times, and he seemed to be in a class all by 
himself.  She said he used the women Dick offered, but never went 
out of his way to be cruel or vicious.  I guess that pinch could 
have been a bit of ignorant fun.  At any other time, it probably 
would have been nothing more than annoying and momentarily painful.

When they came back, they watched videos for a while.  Dick had me 
suck him off, while Tanya sucked off the new guy.  Cindy walked in 
around eight, and Dick immediately told us to put on a show for the 
Sasquatch.  

Dick looked me in the eye and said "You'd better try and put a 
little more into this performance than you did the last one.  That's 
part of the reason why you got hurt so bad.  You disappointed a 
couple of the gentlemen that night."

Cindy hadn't been as successful as I'd thought.

She undressed, slowly and provocatively.  Then she undressed me, 
very carefully.  I heard a hiss of indrawn breath when my back was 
bared, and again when my skirt was removed.  I wasn't wearing bra, 
panties, or hose because of the pain, so there wasn't much to take 
off.  I suspected that any dilatory moves on my part would have 
been cause for punishment, from one or the other of them, so I let 
Cindy have her way with me with no complaints or interference.  
There was no way I was going to do, or not do, anything that would 
give them an excuse to further damage my body.  

Cindy and I began to kiss.  Or rather, she started kissing me, 
and when her tongue got busy, and I felt her breasts on mine, and 
felt her hands wandering around on my front, I tuned out our 
audience and I got into the kiss.  I definitely liked the feel of 
her back, which was so soft, with all those hard little ripples 
underneath, and of her bottom, which was also soft and pliable, yet 
with a sudden and surprising core of steel at times.

We slowly collapsed to the floor, her first, with me following, to 
land on top of her.  Our leg s scissored,m y hands foundher breast 
s,the kiss caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

We kissed, I held her breasts, played with her nipples, my mound 
rubbed against hers, and the feelings were so intense, so wonderful, 
that I climaxed noisily into her mouth.  That tongue of hers was 
busy licking my tonsils at the time, so the sound was rather muted.  
A few seconds later she came as well, and we held each other in a 
close embrace, enjoying the aftermath of a quick, intense, fuck.

A moan reminded me of our audience, and I scrambled quickly to my 
feet.

"Excellent show, sluts.  Much better than the last one."  Dick's 
leer was one that I was learning to despise.  He turned and looked 
at his guest.  "Which one do you want, Vinnie?  Or both, if you 
feel up to it."

Vinnie's eyes, travelling all over my body, made my skin crawl.  
Until then, that expression held no meaning for me.  I found out 
what it was like.  I shivered, and not because the air was cool. 

"That one."  Now how did I guess that he'd want the new girl?  I 
must be psychic.

He took me up to one of the bedrooms, stripped himself, and lay on 
the bed.

"I'll make it easy on you, since you've been worked over a bit.  
You're gonna suck me off, cunt, then we're gonna fuck.  Got 
it?  If you blow me good, I'll let you ride on top.  If not ..."

He grinned at me.  There were a couple of teeth missing, and 
several of the others were blackened stumps.  His breath stank, and 
imagining what kissing that mouth would be like almost made me 
puke right then and there.  Besides which, his leer was almost as 
bad as Dick's.

There was no way I'd survive that four hundred pound monster 
pounding into me, so I was determined to give him the blowjob of a 
lifetime.  Or, at least, of my lifetime, if he didn't like it.  
I didn't particularly like the guy, even though he hadn't really 
done anything to me to that point.  It's just that everyone around 
Dick, other than us slaves, seemed to be macho, hedonistic, 
misogynistic, pigs.  

He was a little bigger than Dick, but not much, so I had only a 
little bit of pain taking him down my throat.  He was decidedly 
smaller than my husband.  I sucked and slurped and licked and 
sucked some more, all the while playing with his balls and ass.  He 
stank, and he tasted gross, like he hadn't washed in a month.  I 
nearly threw up on him, but managed to suppress the urge.  Somehow 
it didn't seem like something he'd appreciate.  I did let a drop or 
so of his semen leak out of my mouth, but he appeared to like that 
touch, unlike Dick.  He used a finger to wipe it up and then had 
me lick his finger clean.

That's when it happened.  The door flew open with a bang, and 
standing in the opening was a man dressed all in black, wearing 
a full-faced black ski mask.  Vinnie froze, the shout I saw him 
preparing dying stillborn in his throat.  Looking down the bore of a 
sawed-off shotgun would tend to do that to even the strongest and 
stupidest person.  I froze, totally petrified.  My scream came out 
as nothing more that a tiny squeak of fear.

"Shows over.  Mr. Small is now out of business.  If you're smart, 
you'll leave while you can.  If you're stupid, and try something, 
we'll bury you and him in the same grave.  Capish?"

Slowly and carefully, Vinnie nodded.  He stood up, got dressed, and 
was escorted out of the room.  The man with the gun made sure to 
stay well out of lunging range.  When Vinnie went to grab me, the 
man said "Leave the pussy.  We'll have a use for it later."

About ten minutes later, a man came into the room (Same guy? 
Different guy?  I couldn't tell with those black masks), followed by 
Cindy.  She was dressed and carrying my clothes.  He left us there, 
shaking in our shared fear.  I got dressed in a hurry, just in case 
they changed their minds.  She had no more idea of who the men were 
than I did.  The man came back and escorted us down to the dining 
room.

Dick was there, tied up, swearing and cursing to himself and anyone 
else in listening range about how he was gonna get them, how he'd 
blow their fuckin' brains out, and how he'd spit on their twitching 
corpses.  Pleasant fellow.  Tanya was also there, although she 
wasn't saying anything, and seemed to be trying to disappear into a 
corner.  Two of the black-clad men escorted Dirty Dick out the 
door.  The remaining man spoke.

"You," he said, pointing at Cindy, "and you," pointing at Tanya, 
"get the fuck out of here.  You," he said again, pointing at me, 
"stay put, and don't say a goddamn word."

I couldn't have spoken if I'd wanted to. I was in shock!  I 
recognized that voice!  I knew it intimately!  John!  My God!

Cindy and Tanya both left in a hurry, and gave me looks of true 
sympathy.  I believed they were imagining all kinds of horrible 
fates for me.

"Stay here until I get back!"  John turned and followed the women 
out the door.

It was four long, frightening hours before John returned.  He was 
still wearing the mask, but since he'd revealed himself, I knew what 
to look for and could recognize the shape of him.

"Don't say a single word, woman.  Not a word!  Understand!?"

No, I didn't understand.  I was confused as hell!  I wanted to cry, 
to yell, to demand answers, but nothing came out.  I nodded.

He walked over to one wall, examined it very carefully, then blew 
a hole in it with the shotgun.  I screamed, almost jumping out of 
my skin, almost passing out with fright.  There was a bit of smoke, 
and the sounds of something electrical dying, but little else.  He 
blew two more holes before he seemed satisfied.  Both produced the 
same sizzles and sparks.  

"There," he said.  "That takes care of the snoops, at least in this 
room."  He took off his mask, put down the gun, and gave me a 
kiss.  I almost fainted, again.

"I'll explain everything later.  Right now, we've got a lot of work 
to do, and not a lot of time to do it in.  Just do as I say and 
don't waste time by asking questions.  All right?"

I guess I was numb by then.  I nodded.

He put the mask back on, grabbed the gun, and motioned for me to 
follow.  Outside, there was a small truck that I didn't recognize.  
He handed me some folded down boxes, a roll of packing tape, and a 
small pair of scissors.  He picked up some sport-type bags and some 
more boxes.  We went back into the house.  He told me to fix up 
the boxes, so I did.  

He read some notes from a small pocketbook, then walked over to a 
picture on the wall.  Still reading, he opened the safe behind it.  
Whatever was in there, he put into one of the bags.

He did the same to another safe in a bedroom.  Then to another one 
in the drawing room.  Then he opened up some sort of secret door 
behind a bookcase in the library (Gawd, who'd believe something that 
corny happened in real life!).  Behind it was a fairly large room, 
alive with video equipment, monitors, and racks and racks of VHS 
tapes.  Hundreds of them!  He had me box up every single one and 
carry them into the truck.  There were also four different journals, 
and he put those into one of his bags.  The tapes that were in the 
machines followed.

Checking his book again, he pulled out a tape rack.  Behind it was 
one of those huge old-time safes, the ones you see in the old 
westerns.  It had three different dials and two handles.  Even with 
his notes, it took John fifteen minutes and a half-dozen tries to 
get the thing open.  And when he did, I almost fainted again.  It 
was half full of money!  Stacks and bundles of fifties!  My mind 
conjured up totals in the millions, even though I knew that was a 
practical impossibility.

Well, John filled up most of his bags with money, leaving a few 
bundles strewn about, as though whomever had been there was in too 
much of a rush to bother picking up the spillings.  Later, I found 
out that each bundle was worth five thousand dollars.  He left 
forty thousand lying on the floor, waiting for someone to notice 
it.  He also took the three books, the papers, the small satchel, 
and everything else in there.  Then we left.

**********

Like I said, that was about two years ago.

John still hasn't told me anything about his past.  Occasionally 
I still work on him.


First, Dirty Dick.  My husband says that he (John) isn't a killer 
or murderer, and neither were his friends, the ones I'd never seen 
before, and he says I probably never will again.  Dick was taken to 
a place, and given to a group of people, who John said were happy 
with his talents.  He said there were lots of men there - then said 
that in fact, despite appearances, there were only men there, and 
Butch and Brucie were common nicknames.  They almost all liked 
leather and chains and whips and stuff like that.  He claimed that 
we'd never see Dick again.

About a month or so ago, John said that Dick was finally starting 
to adjust to his new surroundings.  He said something about tattoos 
and piercings, but then started getting a little too graphic and 
gross for me, so I stopped listening.  I hope Dirty Dick absolutely 
hates his new life.  The miserable bastard.


Next, the money.  Well, we ended up with six hundred and forty 
thousand dollars.  Cash.  That's after John gave each of his 
friends fifty grand, and the group of men who have Dick fifty 
grand as well.  Wow.


The books and journals.  Dirty Dick was into blackmail and all 
kinds of other nasty stuff.  We had the evidence, we had the names, 
we had the payment schedules - we had everything.  For those that 
deserved it, we continued the extortion.  That nets us ten grand a 
month, down considerably from the thirty Dick was pulling in.  
We're just a pair of softies.

The tapes.  There were a lot of tapes.  Dick had been a prolific 
producer of material, both for his protection and for his 
enrichment.  Some of them, especially the ones featuring Dick and 
his various cohorts having their meetings, we bundled up and mailed 
to the FBI, anonymously, from two states over.  Others, we burned.  
Still others we kept, and watch from time to time.  

Not too long after that, there was a very public retrial.  
Apparently, some woman had been framed by a group of unsavory 
businessmen.  Fancy that.  I wonder where her lawyers got their 
new evidence from?


Work.  Dick had enough blackmail material against Mr. Dougherty, 
the C.E.O. of the company I work for, to put him away for the next 
couple of centuries.  I ended up with Dick's old job, a fat pay 
raise, and a free redecoration of my new office.  John now works 
full time managing our, and other people's, money.  He seems to like 
buying, selling, and investing, and he seems to be pretty good at 
it, too.

Tim Wakefield and the various other 'clients' of Dirty Dick.  
Instead of getting a blow job from me, he got fucked (figuratively 
speaking).  I gave him a composite tape of him getting blown by 
Tanya and several other women I didn't recognize.  I then told him 
our company's rates had gone up twenty percent, and that he was 
going to sign a five year contract.  Fitting, I thought.  
Apparently, he's more than a little afraid of how his wife and boss 
would react.

He signed.

The same happened with a few others.  None of them seemed to like 
me very much, especially after I'd told each one that two different 
lawyers had copies of everything, and in the event of my death, by 
any cause, they were to send those tapes and journals to the F.B.I.  
No, I wasn't popular, and yes, we do have copies of everything, 
one set with a lawyer in L.A. that I contacted, the other set with 
a lawyer in D.C that John contacted.  That was John's idea.  
Neither one of us knows who the other's lawyer is.  Then there's 
the two redundant sets we keep in storage.  Just in case, of course.


Our house.  We now live in a semi-secluded seven bedroom Tudor out 
in suburbia.  The outdoor pool is nice.  Our privacy fence, so we 
can skinny dip whenever we like, is nicer.  We needed all seven 
rooms because we converted the largest of them into a theatre/orgy 
pit.  It gets a lot of use.  We also have overnight guests quite 
often, and they use the two spare rooms.  


Maids.  Both Cindy and Tanya are now, according to the outside 
world, live-in maids.  Cindy's daughter, Penny, lives with us as 
well, and she thinks her mother is stark raving bonkers.  But she 
does love living in our posh place, and she has her friends from 
school over frequently for pool parties.  As a sixteen year old 
beauty, she has a lot of friends, of both sexes.  Whenever we're 
not around, they all blithely strip and have skinny dip parties.  
We know, because John has our place wired almost as well as Dirty 
Dick's was.  I told John, after seeing his reaction to the first 
tape, that if he ever touched Penny, I'd serve him his balls on a 
platter.  Tanya was a tad more graphic.  She said she'd cook them 
first, then cut them off, then ... well, you get the picture.  
She's even more jealous of his attentions than I am.  Cindy just 
smiled a rather hard, nasty smile, reminiscent of Dirty Dick at his 
worst.  

Tanya.  She got a divorce, uncontested, after she showed her husband 
the videos of him with other women.  The two gorillas we'd hired as 
bodyguards kept him from blowing his cool.  He's now shacked up with 
some fifteen year old runaway in another state.  We've kept tabs.  
Her five years is up in a couple more months, and she swears that 
there's no way we'll ever be rid of her.  She does things with John 
that I'd never even imagined possible before watching the tapes 
from Dirty Dick's place.  I couldn't even conceive of me, 
personally, ever attempting some of those things.  

Cindy.  Similar story.  Steve, her ex, married the secretary.  They 
divorced after she found him with someone else.  (Love it, just 
love it!)  

Cindy is absolutely magical.  If you noticed the odd slight problem 
with this story, it's because she's been between my legs the whole 
afternoon, trying to disturb my concentration.  I think she succeeded 
a time or two.  Her fantastic tongue does things to me that nothing 
and nobody else in this world ever could.  I'm planning on getting 
back at her for all her disturbances later tonight.  I won't let her 
sleep a wink.  I may not have her genetic endowment, but I can still 
send her into another reality.  

Her five years ended two months ago.  She threatened suicide if we 
kicked her out of the house.  I think she was joking.  Of course, I 
had no intention of ever letting the light of my life get away.  
John, even though we are still very much in love, understands 
completely.  After all, he feels the same way about Tanya.


The Motel.  We still collect up tapes from that place regularly.  
They make for great Saturday night entertainment, and you'd be 
amazed at the different people that show up there, for just a few 
hours.  The only time we actually did something with one of the 
tapes was when we witnessed a rape.  We sent the video, anonymously, 
to the woman, along with a note letting her know that none of the 
youths who had attacked her knew about the recording.  She could 
do with it whatever she liked.  


Our favourite blackmail case.  Jennifer is a middle-aged mother of 
four, a member of the P.T.A., and she's active in her church group.  
The footage we have of her and that prime beef stud in the motel 
room fills three two-hour tapes.  We watch them regularly because 
they are very hot.  She was paying Dick two hundred a month to keep 
him from showing the videos to her husband.  She has another four 
payments to go, and then we'll give her the originals.  

The tapes of her are fantastic.  Personally, at one point I thought 
her hips had been dislocated, but she didn't even slow down.  John 
says she goes absolutely wild when she watches herself on the big 
screen, and becomes almost totally insatiable.  I'll take his word 
on that.  All I know is that Rick, her husband, seems to grow a 
half-size longer and thicker whenever we watch the tapes together.  
Between the two of them, they make enough noise to disturb even our 
neighbours.  They invite themselves over at least twice a month.


John.  We still love each other dearly, even though we haven't 
made physical love for months.  A typical session for us was last 
Sunday morning.  We woke up in our custom-made oversized bed.  
He kissed me, then I kissed him, and we became rather passionate.  
Then we became very passionate, with hands running all over each 
other.  My first climax came while I was sucking his tongue into 
my mouth.  I almost swallowed it whole.  A short while later, we 
peaked at almost the same time.  He moaned and groaned into my 
mouth, then started shuddering.  I looked down towards our groins, 
and the sight was enough to send me over as well.

There were two naked bodies down there, heads down, bottoms up.  
One had her head bobbing up and down on John's member, the other 
had her mouth fastened to my clit.  Tanya and Cindy.  They are 
insatiable.  

That's why we need the big bed.  The king size we used to have 
just wasn't big enough for the four of us.


The baby.  Yes, we're going to have a baby.  We've decided that 
if it's a boy his name will be Peter John Smith, after my 
grandfather and his father.  If it's a girl, we have a choice.  
Carla Cynthia Smith, after my grandmother and my favourite woman, 
or Virginia Denise Smith, after his grandmother and my mother.  
It's a tough decision.  No, there was no miracle, medical or 
otherwise.  Tanya's the one who's getting fatter by the day.  


Well, enough of this.  I've recorded all the important bits.  My 
fingers are getting tired.  And besides, Cindy's getting impatient.  
Her tongue is now tickling that spot she found, the one only hher 
tongu ecan reacch.

I llove mynew lifeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee


<Fin>

********************************************************************

Jane Smith - narrator, principal character.  The prim, proper, 
  loving wife.
  23, 5'6", 35-22-34, 'C', natural blonde, green eyes, gorgeous.
John Smith - Debbie's husband, the man with the mysterious past.
  25, 6'2", 9 1/2" & thick, blonde, blue eyes.
  Tall, with lots of lean, hard muscles.

Richard Small - The bastard boss, the blackmailer.
  42, 5'9", 8" & not as thick, black hair, pencil moustache, evil, 
  leering, dark brown eyes, slight paunch.

Cindy (Cynthia) Darling - The victim, the mother, the one with the 
  stupid husband, the woman that likes licking pussy.
  39, 5'4", 38-25-37, 'DD', brunette, light brown eyes, great figure 
  kept in trim by lots of exercise and sexercise, long, long legs.
Penny (Penelope) Darling - Cindy's daughter.  Very pretty.
  Honour student, cheerleader.
  14, 5'5", 32-22-33, 'B', light brunette, pale brown eyes, slender. 
  Perfect butt, long (very long) legs.
Steve Darling - Cindy's stupid husband.  The one having an affair 
  with his secretary, the affair everyone knows about, the one they 
  think is such a big secret.

Tanya Tange - The other victim, the one that loves cock.  Her 
  husband is an abusive jerk with a violent temper.
  19, 5'9", 35-24-36, 'B', very long black hair, very dark brown 
  eyes, cover girl face.  Tight, fit, beautiful.  Sunbathes in the 
  nude as often as she can get away with it.
Cliff Tange - Tanya's husband.  
  25, 5'11", 235 lbs.  He beats her on occasion, especially if he 
  can smell another man on her.  Likes motorcycles and young teens.

Mr. Dougherty - the president and C.E.O. of the company Jane and 
  Dick work at.

Tim Wakefield - Senior V.P. of the company's biggest customer - an 
  arrogant, chauvinistic pig of a man, demanding and demeaning at 
  the same time.

********************************************************************





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