| Return to Oyster Gulch, Chapter 3 The six-thirty call woke the sheriff from her restless sleep. She hadn't even made it to bed. In the middle of the night she'd discovered that there were two cases this year in the San Diego area that fit her search criteria. Her eyes had gotten incredibly heavy. She just needed to close them for a moment. The sixty year old head of law enforcement for the lesbian enclave lay down on the couch. The phone on the end table not far from her head brought her back as though she'd never left. There was only one person who'd be calling her at this hour. "What have you got?" she asked without introduction. "The Perissi girl just turned up at the Baker farm, chief," her deputy informed. "Is she OK?" "According to Peggy she's fine, but there were some other complications," Sarah Duggan cringed as she said it. Sheriff Carlyle did not like complications. "What complications?" Brenda demanded sternly, feeling her elation deflate. "You remember that woman last year that was charged with stealing her husband's car?" How could she ever forget! It wasn't the woman who'd spent almost a week in her jail she recalled; it was the woman's daughter who had made an indelible impression on the old dyke. "What's she got to do with this?" "Well apparently she and her daughter, along with some friends, were coming for a visit. Somehow they stumbled into where the girl was being held and were taken hostage themselves." Sarah paused expecting her boss to ask a question but the Sheriff just waited for the rest of the story. "The woman, whose name is Logan if you remember, managed to subdue the perp and escape ... she brought the little Perissi girl with her." "So how many were held captive altogether?" "That would be five chief ... two women and two girls visiting and Angela Perissi of course," Sarah reported. "We they assaulted ... sexually?" "I think at least one of them was ... the Logan woman's daughter, if I understood Peggy corr—" "Get out the Baker place immediately and preserve evidence," Brenda commanded. "I'm going to call Mary Ellen to come in early and man the office. I'll join you at the farm as soon as I've showered and dressed." A chill ran down Brenda's spine as she set the receiver back in its cradle. 'Caitie ... beautiful little Caitie assaulted!' Her stomach rolled and for a moment she felt nauseous. The queasy feeling had turned to a hard burning lump by the time she was in the shower. The lump was anger. "I want to take a shower," Caitie said as they all sat down in the cactus farm bungalow's living room. Now that she felt safe she also felt very grimy. "Oh sweetie I don't think you can," Carly said as she put her arm around her partner's daughter's shoulder. "The police are going to want to ... uh, well ... um, collect evidence." Carly was wondering if the teenager really understood what that meant. She did know that Ivan had ejaculated inside her favorite model. Caitlin looked woefully from Carly, to her mother, to Peggy and felt like she was going to cry. The feeling of the man's penis lingered in her bum and it still felt good. She was ashamed of herself for having enjoyed the sex even thought she hated the attack. Caitie was trying to resolve the contradiction when the sound of the siren distracted all of them. Abby answered the door to admit Deputy Duggan. "I'm going to need all your clothes as evidence," Sarah announced feeling her pussy twitch. She had a completely unrealistic vision of the four victims stripping out of their clothes right there in front of her. "I also need to interview each of you separately and take statements." "I'll bring your luggage in," Abbey declared. "I'll help," said Peggy The cactus farmers headed out the door to collect the baggage while the deputy handed each victim a large zip-lock bag labeled evidence. "Why don't we start with you Missus Logan," Sarah suggested to the redhead she so terribly wished was naked. 'It was a lot more fun with her when she was a suspect, ' Oyster Gulch's senior deputy concluded. The other four went to the spare bedroom and undressed putting all of the clothes they were wearing into the bags provided. Carly went for ease and comfort and dropped the print sundress over a fresh pair of panties. Given their locale she distained the bra even though the sundress really didn't provide enough support. Caitlin and Stephanie followed suit. Caitie noticed that there was quite a bit of fluid in the crotch of the underwear that she deposited in the plastic baggie. It was embarrassing to think that someone was going to analyze those fluids and discover that half of them were hers. The unique feeling in her backside had diminished but was still quite noticeable especially when she lifted her legs to put on the fresh undies. 'I'm going to mess these up too, ' she thought wishing she'd been allowed to clean up. It only took two minutes for the three traveling companions to change. Carly was trying to collect her thoughts back to the moment that they'd seen the secluded house so she could present her side of the story to the cop in the kitchen when she noticed the young stranger standing still wrapped in the sheet. The dark haired young girl looked quite a bit more awake than she had an hour or so ago when they'd fled the old house. The photographer approached the youngster and was ashamed of the tingling sensation in her breasts and between her legs, but it was all too familiar a situation. "They're going to need this honey," she said and began to remove the sheet from the delectable tween. Without taking her eyes off Angela's development she said, "Stevie ... could you loan our friend something to wear?" Carly judged that the abductee was a bit smaller than Claire's granddaughter but she'd have something that would do in a pinch. Stephanie came up with a T shirt type dress that Carly always thought looked like a nightgown. Bunching up the cotton shift she said, "arms up." Angela extended her hands over her head which stretched the little bumps on her chest nearly flat. The plump dollar sized pinkish brown nipples still stood out though. The photographer's expert eye took in the girl's nearly shapeless frame, including the tiny fringe of dark hair that outlined her demure clam shell crease. 'She doesn't seem the least bit self-conscious, ' she mused, thinking that the tween would make a great model. "Don't you have any underwear for her?" Carly asked. "That's okay," the dark haired stranger conceded. "Lots of times I don't wear any," she concluded with a mischievous giggle. Carly's pussy twitched and she chastised herself again. They'd all been held against their will, Caitie had been sodomized and she and her partner may have just killed two people, 'How can you have thoughts like that at a time like this?' Caitlin was already out the door of the bedroom. The other three followed. Ivan wrapped the sheet around his head which wasn't easy with one hand. He hoped to staunch the bleeding, but in any case keep it from dripping in his eyes while he worked on the two bolts that secured the side rail of the bed frame to the footboard. The hex-nut dug deeply into his fingers but the pain in his head was so intense that he barely noticed. He felt a little relief when the fastener finally yielded. The second one was even harder, but eventually he was able to separate the rail and slide the handcuff chain free. He tried to get to his feet. His vision was horribly blurred as he staggered unsteadily to the dresser where he'd put his key. Once he'd unshackled himself he went to the washroom to do the best he could bandaging his head. He screeched at each sharp pain that shot through the steady thumping roar of his headache. In his attempt to cleanse the wounds and he saw red. The red was the blood flowing out of the bitches that had done this to him. He imagined sodomizing them and then beating them to bloody pulps—but first the little girl. He could tell the red-haired teen had been enjoying his cock up her ass. The next time mommy could watch the whole show, and when he was done he'd replace his cock with an iron bar and really see how much the little slut could take. It wasn't really sufficient but it would have to do. Ivan had the bleeding under control and went to the room where Holly had been entertaining the senior members of the foursome. He didn't see her at first, and then he noticed the bare feet visible beyond the footboard or the bed. When he got to the far side of the bed he was astounded by how much damage they'd done. His assistant's nose was obliterated and the left side of her head had an ominous indentation. She was still breathing in a watery gurgly way but Ivan knew that with out prompt sophisticated medical attention she wouldn't be for long. From the kitchen he brought one of the syringes he'd prepared for their visitors. It wasn't easy to find a vein; she'd lost so much blood. He said a regretful good-bye as he depressed the plunger and vowed revenge. With his head still pounding so hard that he could barely see Ivan managed to collect the essentials that he would need. He expected to hear sirens any minute—and then what would he do? He was rolling out of the driveway knowing that he wouldn't be safe until he reached his next point of refuge. In her car Sheriff Carlyle didn't bother with the strobe lights concealed in the grill and rear bumper of her Lexus. Nor did she turn on the siren. She made two calls as she shot through the just awakening town at more than double the speed limit. The first made her feel sick. Superintendent Frank McGraw of the Nevada State Police answered on the second ring. She filled him in on what they knew so far, which wasn't much. The intention of the call was just to give him a heads-up so he could mobilize his forces. Brenda knew that she didn't have the bodies to conduct an effective raid on a suspect's hide-out, much less a pursuit if it came to that. "I'll e-mail you the report after we've interviewed the victims," she concluded and placed her second call. Doctor Virginia Patterson was the town's resident physician. She was living the dream—freedom fifty-five. After twenty five years of practice in the big city she'd heard about the unique town tucked away in the desert that had everything she longed for. The Gulch was glad to have her. "Hello," the sleepy doctor mumbled. "Ginny ... it's Brenda, we've got a situation and I need your help as soon as you can get mobilized." The strain in the Sheriff's tone rang the alarm bells in the doctor's well developed sense of urgency and she was instantly wide awake. "We've had one confirmed and maybe as many as five sexual assaults," the top cop related from the speeding car. "How soon can you get down to your office and collect evidence?" "Give me an hour," Doctor Patterson advised and hung up without waiting for the cop's reaction. Brenda wheeled into Peggy Baker's driveway behind Sarah's cruiser. Abby opened the door with solemn expression on her pretty face. Brenda's face reflected her concern but the most visible emotion was determination. Glancing into the living room she saw the women on the couch; Peggy on one side and Heather on the other hugging the red headed teenaged temptress. The shockwave that invaded the Sheriff's loins was immediate and unexpected. To her left, her deputy emerged from the kitchen behind a dark haired older woman in a print sundress. "That's the last one Chief," she informed her boss. The interviews with the girls hadn't taken long because they didn't remember much, especially Angela. She'd been riding her bike home from school when the old lady in the park offered her a drink of juice. Angie was thirsty and even though she'd been told a thousand times not to talk to strangers, or take anything they offered you, she said the woman reminded her of her grandmother so she felt safe. Then she got dizzy and felt like she was going to throw up. The next thing she remembered was a nice lady rolling her up in a sheet and carrying her out to a car. The one called Stephanie remembered having to pee and being glad that she wouldn't have to relieve herself on the side of the road when they arrived at the old house. After she'd used their facilities they went to the living room and the gruff lady served them lemonade. The next thing she remembered was lying naked on a bed and seeing a grey haired man behind her kneeling friend but she didn't know what was actually going on. The next thing she knew Carly was helping her get dressed and hustling her into the car. Caitlin Logan's recollection was the most useful of the younger group. She remembered seeing the tall man touching Angie's bum, though she didn't know her name at the time. Sarah saw the flush on the girl's face when she started to recount how the same man had picked her up and positioned her on her knees. The blush deepened when she shyly told the officer how the man had forced his penis into her bum. Deputy Duggan was ashamed of herself for the delightful pulse that emanated from her crotch and spread up to her modest little boobs. She misinterpreted the reason for Caitie's embarrassment though. Sarah handed her notes to the Sheriff who quickly scanned the four statements. "Go back to the office and as soon as you have it typed up, e-mail it to Superintendent McGraw." The deputy felt her jaw drop at her boss's words. She knew that sending anything to the Troopers was like dealing with the devil himself as far as the Sheriff was concerned. If the gravity of the situation hadn't hit home already, Brenda's willingness to involve the State Police made it crystal clear. She was tempted to confirm that she'd heard correctly but the look on Sheriff Carlyle's face sent her scurrying out the door. Turning toward the living room Brenda was striving for her most compassionate voice. "Girls ... I need you to come with me," she said scanning the weary frightened looks. "I'm going to take you to a doctor to have you checked out and make sure you're okay." She was standing there waiting for her words to sink in with the stupefied youngsters when Heather stood up and said, "Okay ... let's go." "I think it would be better if you waited here Missus Logan," the Sheriff said flatly. Heather's face dropped and tears started to trickle again. The thought of letting her daughter out of her sight was, at that moment, hard to bear. Carly came to her side and put her arm around the protective mother. "It's okay honey, she'll be in good hands," the photographer consoled. "I'm sure this is embarrassing enough for Caitie without having her mother watching over the process." The gorgeous redhead sagged and a sob wracked her body. "Come on girls," Brenda said a little more firmly. "The doctor is waiting." Ivan Symenkov rolled his Range Rover around the back of the rusty corrugated fence. The horribly cracked and weathered asphalt that had once formed an apron around his father's Auto-Service Center provided a better anchor than the surrounding nomadic desert sands. The hearty desert plants also benefited from the deteriorated black top's tendency to act like a bowl, storing the torrential rains and then gradually leaking them into the parched soil instead of just letting the water run off to the lowest point. The result was a mass of vegetation around the old garage that had been gradually building, getting taller and thicker for over forty years. If you didn't know the cinder block structure was there it was pretty much unnoticeable from the road. When Uri Symenkov, motor mechanic from Hungary, had purchased this land and built his shop in 1949, Nevada State Road 20 was the main thoroughfare from Utah across the desert state to Reno; and on into California. The construction of the Interstate in the early sixties had made this road redundant. Business suffered badly from the lack of passing motorists. His regular local customers weren't enough to keep food on the table. Uri made more moonshine to drown the pain. Ivan would have been finishing his junior year of high school when the undiagnosed cirrhosis caught up with his father. Ivan had always been home-schooled because his father thought that public schools were just another way for the State to control and brainwash its citizens. Ivan's mother did not agree but was in no position to voice an opinion lest she have to endure her husband's wrath. It wasn't worth it because it wouldn't have made any difference. She felt her son was being deprived of necessary social development, so when Uri died she immediately enrolled Ivan for his senior year. It was the right idea just much too late. While his peers had been honing their social skills and mastering teenaged jargon Ivan had been studying hard and trying to lose his accent. He dreamt of opportunities to meet girls and maybe get some romance going—which to a teenaged boy meant sex. When his chance came he wasn't up to the challenge. He quickly became a laughing stock and the brunt of his peer's jokes. Ivan lowered his sights and tried his luck with juniors and finally freshmen. He'd even convinced himself that he preferred younger girls. What he got was used. He tutored the younger girls and even did their homework for them but when it came to repayment he was always put down. That's when he began fantasizing about taking them by force and making them like it. He went away to college on a full academic scholarship and it was the same thing only worse. The freshman girls were the same snooty bitches who'd put him down in high school, and there were no lower classmen to lower himself too. His fantasies became more perverted. He had relegated himself to a life of solitary sex and needed a steady supply of fresh porn to fuel his dreams. The trouble was the local convenience store mags had no girls young enough for his tastes. In his senior year he ran into Stephan Malonovich who was scouting talent for his unprofitable but legal productions. In exchange for his masterful knowledge of chemistry Stephan provided a continuous supply of kiddie porn. Soon after came the Tatiana Illyitch fiasco and his life was turned upside down for nearly five years. Ivan was beginning to think that the upside down he'd experienced twenty or so years ago was going to be nothing compared to the roller coaster those two snoopy bitches had put him on. As he opened the new pad lock he'd put on the only operable door his hand was pretty steady. The powerful analgesic he'd injected himself with was beginning to work. It wasn't morphine, it was better than the mainline version popular in hospitals. The smell of grease and motor oil would never leave this place. It was a comforting aroma to Ivan. He had spent many hours here with his dad, bonding. In true European tradition the Hungarian immigrant was striving to teach his son his trade. Ivan never had the heart to tell his papa that he was never going to be a grease-monkey. Still he treasured those times. His father never drank here. Ivan did a thorough and painful cleansing of his wounds. He'd never have been able to do it himself without the aid of the drugs. By the time he was finished he was exhausted. He needed to sleep for a while, but that was okay. It was barely eight AM and his plan was best executed under cover of darkness. He had twelve hours to rest and that would still leave him an hour to prepare before he had to leave. He collapsed on to the little cot in the storage room adjacent to the office and fell asleep plotting his revenge. The Sheriff escorted the girls through the door of The Gulch's one and only doctor's office. Virginia Patterson was standing in her knee length white coat behind the reception counter. Her smile was not forced when she saw the three young ladies herded forward by her long time friend and fellow pedophile. "Doctor Patterson ... this is Caitlin, Stephanie and I think you know Angela," the Sheriff gestured toward each patient in turn. As she scanned the adolescent trio she said, "Hello girls," and then turning to Brenda, "You mentioned that there was one confirmed assault. Is that right?" "Yes, Caitlin remembers being penetrated and Stephanie saw it. Neither she nor Angie has clear recollection of exactly what happened to them. It seems that they were sedated somehow. It was probably mixed into some lemonade or juice that they were given to drink." "I'll take blood and do a tox-screen. It was probably Rohypnol or something similar," the doctor speculated. "I'm going to do Caitlin first," she announced. "I should be able to get DNA from sperm that will conclusively identify the rapist when you catch him." Ginny Patterson stooped low enough that she was eye level with the short teen and put her hand on the pretty redhead's shoulder. Her heart went out to the poor traumatized youngster. "It's okay sweetie," she comforted seeing the shock and fear in her emerald green eyes. "Come with me so I can have a look at what the bad man did to you." Caitie felt the pressure on her shoulder encouraging her toward the door of the exam room. She thought that the doctor's words were a little childish and condescending but right now she wasn't going to object to being babied. Doctor Patterson let the girl precede her into her number one examination room and closed the door behind them. Brenda saw the door of the second room standing open. A thrill coursed through her as opportunity knocked. "I think it will speed things up if I get you girls ready for the doctor," the sheriff said stepping toward the second consultation room. Brenda stood at the side of the door and with a sweeping motion toward it with her arm said, "Ladies..." Stevie and Angie looked at each other and entered the antiseptic little room. Just before she reached the exit designated by the GPS, Claire Mitchell dialed 'On-Star' to double check the location of Carly's SUV. It was a good thing. The new coordinates put the vehicle at least five miles east of where it had been at midnight. She hoped that they wouldn't move again because once she left the main road she wasn't expecting to have service. Her umpteenth call to Carly's cell went directly to voice mail just like all the others, signifying that her protégé had no connection. When the matriarch of the Mitchell clan made the turn onto the gravel road she slowed down. Her GPS indicated five miles to her preprogrammed destination. Doctor Patterson gave the red-haired rape victim a reassuring smile. Caitlin's eyes wandered around the sterile smelling little room. She'd been in doctors' offices before and this one looked no different than the other's she'd seen; with one chilling exception. The counter with the sink for the physician to wash their hands was standard. A small desk with an office chair and a side chair for the patient was on one side, as expected. The dressing screen in the corner wasn't always in the exam rooms she was familiar with but it wasn't troubling. What caused her to gasp were the padded brackets extended on steel beams from the end of the examination table. The teenager didn't know what they were called but she knew what they were used for. It was the first time that it really hit home why she was there. The doctor was going to examine her cookie and ... and
Oh God her tushy. The feeling of the man's dick in her ass had faded until it was more just a memory than a physical sensation, but the memory made her pussy yearn. Having an older woman look at her cookie was nothing new; and by itself not a problem. The embarrassing part was that she figured Doctor Patterson would be able to detect how aroused she was. She was ashamed of the fact that she'd enjoyed her first anal penetration in spite of the circumstances. "I'm so sorry I have to do this to you after all you've been through," the doctor said compassionately; "but I need you to step behind the screen and remove your underpants." Doctor Patterson completely misinterpreted the deep blush and look of panic on her young patient's face. Caitie was wondering why she needed to go behind the screen to remove her panties, but she did as she was told. She kicked off her flip-flops and pulled down the white cotton briefs she usually wore. She wasn't surprised to see the dampness trying to soak its way through the double thickness of the crotch gusset, but there was more fluid even further back. 'It must be leaking from my bum, ' she concluded and felt really grubby again. 'That's why I wanted to shower ... but I wasn't allowed.' Placing her underwear on the chair placed behind the screen for convenience Caitlin emerged and stood ruefully facing the woman in the white medical coat. Ginny took in the pretty red-head in the floral print sundress that ended above her mid-thigh and felt her legs get a little weak. To her chagrin the mild throb in her pussy that started when she first laid eyes on the sexually assaulted trio of teens was getting stronger and faster. The doctor strained to maintain her professional detachment but the girl she was about to intimately examine was just a little too close to her vision of pubescent perfection. "Okay Caitie ... can you sit up right on the very end of the table for me," the doctor asked patting the place she was referring to. Caitlin moved to the end of the examination table between the diabolical looking brackets and used her arms pushing against the paper covered examination table mat to hoist her butt high enough. Sitting on the high platform with her legs dangling the sensations from her pelvis were somehow more noticeable, or maybe it was just that the moment her guilty secret would be revealed was drawing ever closer. "Now I need you to lie back, and keep your legs nice and relaxed ... can you do that?" The paper crunched loudly as the girl reclined. Ginny Patterson wished she'd worn a skirt so she could flip it out from underneath her as she sat down on the low examination stool. Either that or she should have been wearing a thick panty-liner. 'I'm going to wind up making a wet spot on these slacks, ' she realized her labial containment was breached by the act of sitting down. 'Oh well at least they're a dark color ... maybe it won't show too badly ... and anyway the coat will make it hard to notice.' "Have you ever had a pelvic exam before," Ginny asked as she took one soft silky smooth calf in her hand and the corresponding slender ankle. "No," her patient replied in a squeaky breathless voice. "Well I don't think that it any woman's favorite thing but I'll try to be as quick as I can," the doctor assured placing the girl's heel in the stirrup; and then repeated the process with the other leg. The sundress skirt collapsed between her raised thighs covering her girlhood. "Now I need you to scoot down the table a little bit further toward me ... okay?" Caitie was struggling to keep her breathing under control. She was beginning to pant as she shimmied lower on the examination platform. When she felt her butt at the edge of the table she stopped. "Just a little bit further honey," the doctor said to her patient's surprise. The teenager felt like she was hanging over the edge when the doctor finally said, "Okay ... that's good." Trying to take slow deep breaths was even harder when she felt the doctor lift the skirt from between her legs and lay it back onto her tummy. That's when she knew that this stranger had a completely unobstructed view of her pussy. Virginia had sufficient focus to quickly survey the girl's crotch for signs of trauma. There were none, but that wasn't to say that there was nothing remarkable. Doctor Patterson saw the flushed skin tones and evident swelling of the pubescent vulva. Between the protruding inner lips moisture glistened under the bright examination lamp. A wealth of professional as well as personal experience made the condition immediately recognizable. About the last thing Doctor Patterson had been expecting was to find her patient in very high state of arousal. Ginny inhaled deeply of the uniquely feminine fragrance and nearly fell off her stool from the dizzying effect. "You're going to have to change into a gown for the doctor," Brenda's heart rate doubled as she informed the girls of the next step in the process. Stephanie looked at the head cop and read her like a book. The youngest member of the Mitchell clan had been raised from birth in an environment where sex was just another activity everyone did. It was no different than eating, sleeping or using the toilet. Age also had little to do with it. When you were old enough to be interested—you were old enough to participate. While the little blonde was quite happy and comfortable with her family and their values, she also understood that it wasn't the norm. "A lot of people would love to live the way we do," her grandma—Claire—had told her, "but they're too uptight ... too stuck in a set of values that they don't even believe in but for some reason feel compelled to live by." Claire explained to her that because so many people wanted to indulge their natural desires but were too timid, it made them very vulnerable. "When you're willing to be open about your sexuality you have an incredible advantage. You can offer it freely and they'll do anything for you, or you can be coy and tease and you can get them to do anything for you." Stevie had only come to grasp the distinction in the past year or so but her grandma and mom had given her lots of opportunities to hone her skills. Angela was apparently not shy. She pulled the dress Stevie had loaned her, the one that looked like a nightgown, over her head without hesitation and stood there in all her glory. Stephanie caught the look in the sheriff's eyes and recognized it immediately. She couldn't resist a quick peek of her own. The dark curly hair was severely mussed by the dress going over her head so Angie tried to fix it with her fingers as best she could. The tween had practically no shape. From her ribs to her knees was nearly a straight line. There were noticeable bumps on her chest but it would be premature to call them breasts. The areola at the center of the emerging tit was plump brownish, puffy looking and about the size of a dollar. The nipple itself wasn't evident. At the apex of the girl's skinny thighs was a fleshy mound with a fringe of fine dark hair just around the tight looking crease down the middle. Caitie had told her the story of her night at the Sheriff's house, including the tutoring sessions with Peggy and Abbey. Stevie was quite sure that if her adopted sister could knock the pedophilic dyke off her feet with a novice routine that the poor old babe was going to fly clear out of the park when she went to work on her. Stephanie hoisted her sundress over her head with a whimper for effect. She drew the attention of her target instantly. As soon as the dress was off she pressed it against her breasts hiding them in feigned modesty. "It's okay honey ... there's no need to be shy." The Sheriff comforted, feeling like her pussy had turned to molten wax. Stevie pressed the dress against her boobs harder enjoying the relatively new feeling of having them squish under the pressure. It was only in the last couple of months that they'd gotten big enough to really feel squishy. She'd envied Caitie's round titties that looked so big on her little body. She wished hers would hurry up and get bigger, but she knew her adopted sister would always have the edge because of heredity. "Is she going to examine my boobies," the blonde teen asked putting on a pathetic little voice. Brenda felt the molten wax sort of rolling between her legs. "I don't think there's any reason for Doctor Patterson to examine your breasts," she told the youngster who was giving an Oscar worthy performance. The inside information about the Sheriff's preference for shy virginal girls from Caitie had fascinated her. In spite of the fact that she couldn't really remember ever being shy and innocent, Stevie had expert tutoring on how to play the part from her Grandma Claire. "Tease them and you can get them to do anything for you..." Claire had said. At the moment Stephanie didn't really need anything from the Sheriff but the idea of teasing the old dyke—driving her crazy—appealed to the mischievous part of her nature. And she was also horny from watching her adopted sister take it up the ass last night—or was it this morning—she wasn't really sure; just that there'd been an incessant tingle in her coochie ever since they'd escaped. "Let me hang those up for you," the Sheriff said, extending one hand toward each of the girls. Angela had been standing unabashedly displaying her pre-pubescent body with the borrowed dress hanging at her side. She surrendered her clothing without hesitation. Stevie kept her head down but her eyes focused on the older woman's face. The pitiful whimper she made when she handed over her dress sent chills down the top cop's spine. The role playing little blonde got a thrill of her own seeing Brenda's eyes widen and her jaw drop noticeably. 'Don't stare!' Brenda was telling herself while at the same time powerless to follow her own command. It had been hard enough to keep her eyes off the curly haired girl she'd seen around town many times. In truth Angie was a bit young for her tastes but nevertheless appealing because of her childish lack of modesty. In a year or two she'd come to realize the effect her nudity could have and either get very shy about it (which Brenda found so arousing) or flaunt it. Right now she seemed oblivious to sexuality, unlike the older girl. Stevie continued her charade by putting one arm across her breasts and her other hand in front of her mons. Brenda managed to tear her eyes off the enthralling sight long enough to hang the dresses on the stainless steel clothes tree. Stephanie felt her pebble hard nipples scrape against the tender flesh of her inner arm. She pressed harder enjoying the way her growing boobies mashed. The subtle friction on her sensitive buttons was tantalizing. They were small, about the size of a silver dollar and quite dark in relation to her other skin tones. They were always a unique shade of reddish brown but got redder when they were erect—like now. Brenda's heart rate hadn't settled even a bit, and she could now feel its steady rapid pumping as a throb between her legs. She'd already gotten as much out of this cruel ruse as she dared hope. Attempting to get an eyeful of the two young sexual assault victims naked had been done on impulse, and now it was time to push her arousal down until later. She'd promised to get the girls into examination gowns but really had no idea if there were any in the consultation room—and if so where they were kept. She took one last longing look at the fresh adolescents just beyond her reach. Stevie saw the lust in the woman's eyes and what she interpreted as disappointment or indecision on the Sheriff's face. She needed to add fuel to the fire. "I'm afraid if she examines my boobies that my nipples will get hard," the blonde temptress sighed. Brenda felt her clit twitch at the revelation. She was no stranger to seducing the innocent but under the circumstances felt a certain amount of reluctance to pursue it. The girl, however, had opened a door that Sheriff Carlyle might not be able to resist going through—Stevie was counting on it. "Do your nipples get hard very often?" "Uh ... yeah, when ... whenever I touch my, uh ... my breasts," the girl confessed. "And does it feel bad ... or why are you worried about it?" the cop probed. "No, uh ... it doesn't feel bad... it feels, um, well it kinda feels too good. And it makes me feel really, um ... uh funny, ya know, uh ... down here," to illustrate what she meant Stevie wiggled the hand that she had covering her mons. A wave of tingly heat washed over the older woman and she felt her own nipples clench sympathetically. "But you said it's not a bad feeling so why worry about it?" "Because it makes me want to, um touch myself ... uh, down here," she replied with a gesture from her pussy shielding hand again. "Do you ever do that ... touch yourself down there?" Brenda enquired trying to keep the tremor from her voice and the anticipation from her loins. "Sometimes," Stevie responded. "Does it feel good?" the Sheriff could scarcely believe the track the conversation had taken. "Yeah, it does ... it feels very, very good," Stephanie sighed dreamily. It was one of the few honest things she'd said during the conversation. "Then what's the problem?" Brenda required clarification. "It's ... it's naughty," the naked teen still holding the modest pose replied. "Oh no honey," Brenda said supportively. "Who told you that?" "Uh ... nobody, I guess ... I just know," the little liar explained; for some reason not wanting to falsely accuse anyone of inhibiting her emergent sexuality. "Well you're wrong sweetie, most people do it ... and there's nothing wrong with it. I do it myself sometimes," the top cop confessed, albeit in a somewhat dishonest fashion. Stevie was proud of the way she made her eyes go really wide and let her jaw drop in an expression of shock. It was hard to suppress the untimely snicker. "You do?" Angela's expression of amazement was genuine. She'd been observing the exchange between the older girl, that she'd only met hours ago, and the woman who was the head of her local police. Sheriff Carlyle made her a bit nervous for some reason. This talk about touching yourself was also making her fidgety. The dark haired abductee had only discovered the enjoyment potential between her legs a couple of months ago and innocently thought she was unique in that way. Hearing it discussed out in the open like this was bringing those feelings to her crotch and it made her blush. Stephanie could see the strain developing on the older woman's face. She wanted to tease her a lot longer but she really didn't know how much time she had. It was time to get this show on the road. Across the hall Doctor Patterson said, "Just relax honey ... I'm going to touch you now." |