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Subject: NEW: Kathy by Morgan Chapter 20b (M/F)
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To:  story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us
From: morg105829@aol.com
Subj: "Kathy" Book III, Chapter 20b (M/F) (262 lines)
January 20, 1998

This is about the 27th section.  Although this is substantially more tame than
many postings on A.S.S.M., the usual disclaimers apply.  There are two pieces
to Chapter 20; this is the second.

Permission is granted to repost, but only on non-commercial sites.  Please
inform me if you do so.

"Kathy"

(c) 1991, 1998 by Morgan.

Book III

Chapter 20b

Promptly at one o'clock she met Sergeant Kowalski.  When they went into her
old office, she immediately closed the blinds.  "Sergeant," Kathy said with a
grin, "Since you are about to know me intimately, we ought to be on a first-
names basis.  You know mine, but what's yours?"

"It's George, ma'am...  I mean, Kathy."  He grinned.

"Well, here goes!" she said as she lifted the tight-fitting dress over her
head.  Now she was standing nude in front of him except for her shoes and
bikini.  Kowalski's eyes bulged and he let out a low, appreciative whistle.

Then he blushed red as a lobster.  "I'm terribly sorry, Kathy, but I have
never in my life seen a body like yours!"  Regaining control, he asked, "What
do we do?"

"I want you to tape the mike to the inside of my breast.  But first, let me
see the transmitter."  Reaching into her pocketbook, she took out a corona
cigar enclosed in an aluminum cylinder.  "Will it fit in this?  And is it heat
sensitive?  To body heat?  By the way, George, you're welcome to the cigar if
you smoke them.  It's a very good one."  Kowalski examined the cylinder and
took the transmitter from his pocket.  It fit easily.  After wrapping it in
padding, he put it into the empty cigar tube.  The tiny device combined a
short-range transmitter and a battery with a three-hour transmitting life.
The antenna was the third wire in the strand of threadlike wire connecting the
transmitter with the microphone.

"But where are you going to put it?  It's small, but not invisible."  She told
him and his jaw dropped.  "Kathy, you can't be serious...  I mean... I mean
the wires...  My God, Kathy, I couldn't..."

"I can, George, but thank you for caring.  Now, can it take body heat and
moisture?"  He nodded yes.  "Okay, here's what we do.  Connect the wires and
seal the cylinder.  I'll put it in and then you tape the wires and the mike.
Okay?"  He nodded and reluctantly did what she asked.

Kathy took off her bikini when George left the room.  Sitting on the edge of
the desk with her thighs spread wide she gently inserted the cylinder into her
vagina.  With her finger she pushed it up as far as she could, being careful
not to jar the wire.  Carefully, she slid into her briefs and knocked on the
door, the signal to George that he could come back in.  After locking the door
again he got out his tape.

"Kathy, I think the less we use the better.  He looked over her body
critically.  "Kathy, I think we ought to...  I need to see the dress for a
second," he said, excited.  She handed it to him and he flipped it inside-
out.  "Shit!  I should have known.  It's knitted, not sewn.  I was hoping I
could follow a seam, but there aren't any.  Well, back to the drawing boards.
How about if I follow the curve of your abdomen and belly up to the inside of
your right breast?  The mike is omnidirectional, so it really doesn't matter a
whole lot, but try to have your left shoulder a bit towards Holmes.  If you do
that, he'll be talking directly into the mike."  Carefully, he executed the
plan.  He had been utterly amazed at Kathy's cool unconcern about her nudity.
She allowed him to work on her body as if she were a department-store dummy.
But, as he carefully placed the mike on the inside of her right breast, he
could see her nipple start to harden.

Finally, he helped her on with her dress.  It was only one-thirty; the whole
process including the discussion had taken only thirty minutes.  For the final
test they went to Peter's office.  "My God," he said, "Kathy, you look like a
dream.  But you're late!  You've got to be wired."  He turned to George.
"Come on, Kowalski!  Let's get this show on the road!"

Kathy ignored him and made a model's turn.  "See anything?  I *am* wired!
Listen!"  With that Kathy closed the office door as she went out to chat with
Mahoney's secretary.  As she was leaving, George plugged in and activated the
combination receiver-recorder.  Kathy approached Peter's secretary, apologized
for interrupting her, but said she needed a woman's opinion.  She said she
loved Peter Mahoney dearly but he had his taste in his feet.  She told the
girl that she had been invited to a big dance at the Officer's Club on
Saturday night with a *very* special guy.  Would the dress she was wearing be
appropriate?  Peter's secretary was a young Black girl named Grace Washington.
Grace was only one year out of high school and she worshiped Kathy.

Grace looked at Kathy carefully, then said, "Miss Smith, he's the one, isn't
he?"

Kathy knew what Grace meant but feigned ignorance.  "The one what, Grace?  I
don't understand."

Grace fairly beamed.  "Yes you do, Miss Smith.  You are the most beautiful
girl I've ever seen.  But now... now you beam like the sun, you're so radiant!
Ma'am you *must* have met the man you've been waiting for all this time.  Miss
Smith, before I answer your question about the dress, you have to answer one
of mine.  Are you planning on sleeping with him Saturday night?"

Kathy nodded shyly but said, "Grace, why do you ask a question like that?"

"Because wearing that dress with no intention of sleeping with the
gentleman...  Why, Miss Smith, that's as good a definition of 'cruel and
unusual punishment' as I can imagine.  It surely is cruel, and it has to be
unusual."  Kathy asked the girl about her schooling.  She knew Grace was
enrolled in night school.  "I got straight 'A's' last term, Miss Smith!" the
girl said proudly.  "I'm going to take more courses next term.  I want to go
to law school some day."  The girls continued to talk about Grace's plans.

Meanwhile in his office Peter was listening in amazement.  "She's wired!" he
exclaimed.

"That's what I said, sir.  She's wired," Kowalski said.

"But where, in the name of God, is it?" Peter nearly shouted.  "She can't be
wired in that dress!  You can see *everything* and there's no bug.  It's a
trick!"

Kowalski shook his head and told him where it was.  "It's Kathy, sir.  I never
would have thought of it, and if I had thought of it I wouldn't have dared
even mention it to her!  She is *some* woman!"

Meantime, Peter was listening to the girls talk about school.  When he heard
Grace Washington mention her grades, he exclaimed, "Oh, shit!  I'm going to
lose a secretary in January... and a damned good one, too!"

Kowalski looked at Mahoney as if he had lost his mind.  "What do you mean?
Why would she quit?"

Peter looked at him sadly and replied, "Because, Kowalski, Kathy's going to
pay for her full-time college education.  That's why."

"But... But that's ridiculous!  College is expensive these days, and..."

Peter interrupted.  "I happen to know there are two kids just out of the Navy
driving across country right now.  They're headed for California, and school.
The girl -- who's cute as a button, I hear -- is going to USC, and then on to
USC Law.  Her husband is going to Cal Tech for the eight years or so that it
will take him to get his *doctorate*, for chrissakes.  It's all paid.  Kathy
paid it!  Kowalski, we're talking big money now.  Kathy's loaded.  One day
Kathy gave me a check for something -- maybe ten dollars or so -- drawn on
United Virginia Bank.  As a joke, I called the bank and said I had a check
from Katherine Smith, and was it good?  The answer was, 'It's good.'  I said
that I hadn't told him the amount.  He repeated, 'It's good.'  Kowalski, how
much money do you have to have for UVB to say, 'It's good,' without asking the
amount?  I guess $10 million or more.  She's going to pay for Grace
Washington's education, as sure as you're sitting there!"

"But...  But Grace Washington is Black!" George blurted out.

"Kowalski, to Kathy she is a *person*.  Kathy doesn't care if the girl is
green, orange, or yellow with purple polka-dots!  She sees a girl who is
working hard -- struggling -- to get ahead.  Kathy helps those people.  Why do
you suppose every person who knows Kathy Smith *loves* her?  Look at you, for
chrissakes!  What word did you use?  I forgot.  But I think you meant
courageous... guts...  She's Kathy, and that says it all!  She's coming back."

Kathy entered the room and asked, "How did it go?  Could you hear?"  Turning
to Kowalski she asked, "George, don't these things have some way so the wearer
knows she's being heard?"  George nodded.  "Great!  Try it, so I'll know."

"Kathy, on this unit it transmits a small shock.  I don't want..."

"George!  Do it!  Now!" Kathy commanded.  He did.  Peter watched and Kathy
didn't move or jump, but just smiled.  "Great!  It works!  Be sure you hit it
when I get into Ed Holmes' office.  I don't want my upcoming Academy Award
performance to be lost to posterity."

* * *

Ed Holmes came out to his reception area to great her.  He was obviously
impressed -- and wary.  He saw her purse and then he looked over the girl.
The white dress she was wearing fit like a second skin.  'My God!' Holmes
thought, 'I can even see the line of her underpants!  And from the look of
those nipples, she can't be wearing a bra!'  He wasn't at all sure about her
purse, though.  "Miss Smith, welcome!  I've seen you on television so often, I
feel I know you.  What can I do for you?"

"I am representing Commander Kenneth Stark, Mr. Holmes.  I have come to get
his money back.  Since you are representing the former Mrs. Stark, I thought I
would start with you."

"I'm delighted to talk with you.  But would you mind leaving your purse with
my secretary?  I'm sensitive to certain things."

"Not at all," replied Kathy.  "There's nothing in it I need."  She gave her
purse to the secretary, entered the office and seated herself in a chair.  Its
location positioned the mike perfectly.  She waited for Holmes to be seated
and then began.  There were a few moment of pleasantries during which she
again felt the curious shock in her vagina.  'In fact,' she thought, 'it's
really quite a pleasant sensation.  Now, since we have the broadcast audience,
let's get with it!'

"Mr. Holmes, let's get to the point of this meeting.  I said in your reception
area that I want Commander Stark's money back.  I do.  I should have added, I
suppose, that I want you, Sylvia Stark, and that clown who represented
Commander Stark, Homer Knight, in jail."  Holmes was shocked at her statement
and showed it.  "I have evidence that Sylvia -- I'll call her Sylvia, because
only God knows what her real name is -- that Sylvia's divorce from Edward
Collins was not final until May 15 of this year.  Unfortunately, she had
attempted to marry my client on March 15, sixty days earlier.  As we both
know, counselor, bigamous marriages don't count.  One cannot obtain a divorce
if one is not married.

"In my purse on your secretary's desk is a list of twelve marriages Sylvia
entered into and twelve divorces she has gone through IN THE LAST FOUR YEARS!
You can ask her to bring in the list if you're interested in the details.  The
interesting thing is, Mr. Holmes, you represented her in every action.  The
defendant's attorney changed from time to time, but you and Sylvia were
constants in all the equations.  You represented her in every one!  Mr.
Holmes, I am sure that you know that bigamy is a felony in this state.  It is
not often prosecuted, but it remains an active statute.  Knowledge before the
fact makes you at least an accessory, and more probably a co-conspirator.
Then, of course, there are the Federal charges.  They're still being
researched, but I think they'll prove very interesting.  Some fascinating
protective legislation was enacted during World War II.  It applies
particularly to servicemen on duty outside the continental United States.
Every one of Sylvia's victims was outside the country when your charade played
out.  The FBI's SAIC in Norfolk is looking into the law now using the services
of the U.S. Attorney's office.  Then, of course, there are witnesses.  My
favorite is the girl who whipped Sylvia at an appropriate time so she could
have the marks to show in court.  That person is convinced that Sylvia is sick
and is anxious to testify.  Then there is...  But need I go on?"

Holmes had been sitting behind his desk listening to Kathy's recital.  He felt
a horrible sinking sensation as he felt his world disintegrate beneath him.
It was only through an extraordinary effort of will that he remained
impassive.  He was sweating profusely, though, and could feel perspiration
forming on his forehead and his scalp, and feel it running down his back
between his shoulder blades.  When Kathy mentioned the whipping, it was too
much.  Holmes cracked.  He jumped to his feet and screamed, "You can't prove
that!  They would never testify!  Sylvia promised me.  She's connected.
That's how we were able to get all of the witnesses in the first place.  Of
course I knew about it.  I'm her partner!  The whole idea was mine.  Sylvia
has the connections to get the people we need."  He started to calm down a bit
as he continued, "I think you're right about one thing, though: I think Sylvia
is a masochist.  I was with her when...  By God, it was for your Commander
Stark's divorce!  She had this girl with a whip -- a big long bull whip, for
God's sake.  Sylvia braced herself against a wall with her arms outstretched,
stripped to her panties.  She had this girl whip her.  After each stroke, she
would just shudder a little -- it was almost a sexual thing -- examine herself
in the mirror and then tell the girl where the next whip stroke should be
applied.  You know, I think it carried the trial.  It was so effective when
Sylvia bared her back and showed the whip marks.  A finding of fault was in
the bag."

Kathy was growing concerned.  Strangely, Holmes' confidence seemed to grow as
he told how the scheme had worked.  There was probably enough to convict them
on the tape already, but she wanted to be sure.  Then she had an idea.
"Counselor, when did you contrive this scheme?  As I said earlier, we have
twelve cases over the last four years, but we really haven't looked very
hard."

Holmes puffed up in importance.  "I started it eight years ago.  Of course,
you missed some.  The total is thirty-two.  We do four every year, so there
are another four within the period you missed.  They weren't all in the
Tidewater area, of course, so that might explain it.  Would you believe it,
Miss Smith?  I found Sylvia in a whorehouse.  She showed promise and certainly
developed.  Every one of the marriages over the last five years has been to an
officer.  Many were Annapolis graduates.  We fooled them all!"

"What about Homer Knight?  How does he fit in?" she asked.  It was all Kathy
could do to control herself when she learned Ken's former wife had also been a
prostitute.

"I like Homer.  I think we'll probably use him again because he's very good at
gaining the victim's confidence.  On the other hand, he's greedy.  He wasn't
satisfied with what Stark paid him and wanted some of mine, too.  So I really
don't know."  Rising from his chair he came around the desk and said, "Miss
Smith, it's been a real pleasure.  It's been a particular pleasure to watch
your nipples move under your dress.  You are, indeed, a beautiful creature.
TV tape and newspaper photographs do not do you full justice.  Good bye, Miss
Smith.  It's too bad you can't prove any of this.  Now let me escort you to
the door."

They went back to the reception area and Kathy retrieved her handbag.  Under
the guise of ensuring that all of her belongings were intact, she pulled out
her new ID wallet.  "Mr. Holmes, you are under arrest for Federal conspiracy."
She showed him her shiny new gold badge and said, "I am a special United
States Marshall.  Everything you said in your office has been recorded for
your future listening pleasure."

"It can't be!  There's no way you could be wired!  Where is it?  I demand to
see the recording device.  You're lying to me and trying to trick me.  I
refuse to go, and you cannot make me!"  As he spoke, Holmes quickly opened a
drawer in the desk.  Kathy could see the butt of a pistol that Holmes was
reaching for.

Holding her purse in her left hand, Kathy's right moved with the speed of a
striking cobra, producing the LadySmith in her hand aimed directly at Holmes'
overweight midsection.  "I believe I can, Mr. Holmes.  And I don't think you
want to touch that weapon.  It could be quite hazardous to your health.  And
surely you don't want to add resisting arrest to your list of troubles?"  Her
pistol disappeared back into its holster as quickly as it had appeared in her
hand.  She escorted Holmes back to Mahoney's office and turned him over to
waiting uniformed officers and an FBI special agent Joe had sent over.
Mahoney had called him and told him that the tape of Holmes' confession was of
broadcast quality.  Returning to her office, she stripped off her dress and
briefs, quickly detached the equipment and carefully extracted the transmitter
from the cigar tube, throwing the tube away.  She dressed again and returned
Kowalski's equipment.  "Thank you, George.  I think it went well, but I'm no
expert.  What did you think?"

"It was perfect, Kathy!  Technically, it couldn't be better.  The tape is
broadcast quality, it's so good.  You and the DA know far more about its value
as evidence, but it sounded to me like he hung himself at least a couple of
times.  I would like to use this device with some of our policewomen, but they
would kill me if I even mentioned it.  If the need ever arises, would you come
down and explain it to them?  By the way, that was a great cigar.  I smoked it
while you were in there with Holmes."

Kathy checked the time and found it was almost four o'clock.  She would be
late to meet Ken at his ship.  Waving to Peter, she dashed out to her car,
still carrying her raincoat in her hand.  Heads turned in unison to watch her
progress as she ran to her car.

She arrived at the ship only one minute late and found Ken waiting for her as
she drove up.  As he climbed into the car, he looked at her dress and
whistled.  "Wow!  What's the occasion?  You look absolutely gorgeous in that
dress!"

Beaming at him she said, "Thank you, kind sir.  You just answered my question.
I was thinking about what to wear to the club dance on Saturday, so I thought
I would put it on and let you decide.  You did.  I'm wearing it."

"Anything else happen today?" he asked.  She told him she got a Junior G-Man
kit of her very own.  Ken just looked at her strangely, not knowing what to
make of her comment.

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