Message-ID: <16562eli$9810161002@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: somewhere@gte.net (WhiteStar) Subject: STORY: (From WhiteStar) Leap Child (mf, inc, nc, mild rape) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: whitestar@psynet.net X-Auth: 5159C48C118556D6454E0412 Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <706isl$2en$2@news-2.news.gte.net> Hello, Ladies and Gentlemen. About a year ago, a novice writer named WhiteStar entered these newsgroups. He was well received, and many people told him they enjoyed his story. Due to circumstances beyond his control, WhiteStar was forced to leave his beloved newsgroups, and discontinue the work he had put so much time and effort into. Many people were disappointed. So was WhiteStar. Well........ I'M BACK! :) The troubles that were plaguing me a year ago are now gone, and I am able to continue my work. I hope this will please those of you who enjoyed "CAMP - Ron's Journey". I will be continuing the story to its conclusion. This will, however, take a little time. So, to appease you and keep you from badgering me with "Is it done yet?", I have written a short story for you. :) It's called "Leap Child". My website is back up, at: http://www.psynet.net/whitestar And, as usual, HTML and better offline formats can be found there. Also, it has been reworked to look a little better. Why not check it out? May I recommend the new "CAMP Characters" section? (It has better pics now!) One note: I would like to publicly thank Phoenix, who has helped me out over the past year, and who has in the past hosted, and is still hosting, my website. Many of you have had to go through him to get messages to me. Thanks Phoenix! Also, I'd like to thank all of you who sent letters of encouragement while I was gone. I appreciate all the support. Enough chat, here's the story: (C) 1998 by WhiteStar. A full copyright notice can be found at: http://home1.gte.net/jdavies7/Copyright.html Leap Child by WhiteStar On February 29, 1980, a child was born. He was a healthy baby, of 8 lbs., 9 oz. Like all babies, his eyes were blue, but these eyes were the sort of electric blue that almost glowed. His parents named him Kenneth, and everyone called him Kenny. He was a happy little tyke, though he had no siblings to play with. As he got older, he grew tall for his age, and thin, but his eyes remained that same piercing blue. It was as if he were looking straight into your soul, the way he would just stare at you. And Kenny always seemed to guess what you were thinking. At age eight, Kenny finally realized what he was. He could control minds, project thoughts onto others. He could make people think they saw things that couldn’t possibly be. If he wished for you to think such, and you were close enough to him, well, such you thought. He had tinkered discreetly with his ability, but he gained only one thing from it. Fear. For Kenny was a bright child, and he knew that, if anyone ever found out about him, the government would pick him apart to find out how "it" worked. And Kenny didn’t know. Nor did he care. For years, he hid his talent. Occasionally, he’d take it out, just to make sure it still worked. Then, as quickly as he could, he plunged it back into the depths of his mind, so that no one would ever find out that he was different. But, as always happens, plans made in childhood fall apart as one grows... It was October 20, 1995, the night of Homecoming. Kenny had been out with friends celebrating after his school’s victory over their local rival. He arrived home to find his front door ajar, the lights out in the house. Kenny stumbled through the house, and tripped over something soft on the floor. He crawled over to find his father, dead. /Where’s Mom?/ The thought kept running through his head. And then he heard a scream. Not an angry scream, but the kind of scream that makes every hair on your body stand on end. It was a scream of mortal terror. And it was his mother’s scream. Coming from his parents’ bedroom. Kenny raced down the hall and kicked open the door. The lights in this room were also off, but the streetlights outside showed him the scene. The assailant was 6’ 4" tall, and muscled. Kenny was only 5’ 6", and thin to the point of frailty. The attacker advanced... "And what happened next, son?" The officer inquired. "Well, he sort of stopped, looked at something, screamed, and crashed headlong through the window and ran away. He musta been stoned or something." Actually, what the man had seen was the thing he feared most, a snake. There hadn’t /been/ a snake there, but Kenny knew how to take care of that. "I see. Well, it was lucky for the two of you. Unfortunately, your father didn’t make it. I’m sorry, son." The officer returned to his partner, who was questioning Kenneth’s mother. "I don’t know how he did it, but Kenny made the guy jump out the window." She was shaky, at best. "And how might he have done that, ma’am?" The officer inquired gently. "I have no idea. But Kenny... well, you have to understand. Kenny has this way of looking at people, it’s like he’s looking right through you. He was looking at the man that way, and I saw him stare right into the man’s eyes, and then he screamed, and jumped out the window." The officers looked at each other. Shaken as she was, it was too detailed an account to be made up. But how did you write this one up for the report? "Very well, ma’am. We’ve got your description of the man, and your son’s. We’ll put out an APB on him. Given his... somewhat out- of- the- ordinary physique, he shouldn’t be too hard to find." The officers closed their notebooks, and headed to their car, whispering to each other that this one was going to be talked about for years. It turned out that finding the assailant was ludicrously easy. He was found, cowering in an alleyway, by a city sanitation worker the next morning. The police picked him up and took him to holding, but all he would do was repeat over and over, "Snakes.. God, I hate snakes... hundreds of ‘em.... snakes, man." The police brought Kenny to the station to see if he could identify the man. They put him in a lineup, and Kenny picked him out right away. In processing the criminal through the station, He and Kenny passed each other in the hall. Upon seeing Kenny, the man backed away as fast as his chains would carry him. "Keep that kid away from me! Snakes, man! God, I hate snakes... hundreds of ‘em! All over the place.... Keep him away!" The police were baffled by the outburst, but Kenny just smiled serenely. During the trial, the defense attorney had tried everything to deflect the prosecution’s case. Nothing was working. Finally, the defense had a go at Kenneth. "So, Kenny, you say the man just turned and ran?" "That is correct." "What do you think made him do such a thing?" "I don’t know, sir. I think he might have been hallucinating." The defendant was fidgeting in his chair, and would not make eye contact with Kenneth. "What would you say if I told you the defendant swears *you* made him run?" "That would be a neat trick on my part, sir." "Yes, quite. Do you own a pet snake, Kenneth?" "No, sir. I have a dog. Snakes are your department, aren’t they?" The audience chuckled, but the attorney was not amused. "So, you deny that there was a snake in the bedroom with you?" "Well sir, your client seems slippery as an eel, but no, there were no animals in the room." Kenny was focussing his attention on the defendant, who was starting to become very distraught. Kenny was about to cause him to make a scene when someone entering the court diverted his attention. This man was wearing what could best be described as a military uniform, but it was all black. His sunglasses hid his expression, and his demeanor was something close to menacing. He took a seat in the front row. "Kenneth!" It was clear that he had missed a question. "Excuse me, sir? Could you repeat the question? I got distracted." "Fine. You made your identification of my client quite quickly, didn’t you?" "Yes, sir, I believe I did." "Don’t you think that was a rather hasty decision? You were looking at the lineup for less than ten seconds." "No, sir. I recognized your client immediately." "After having seen him once, for a brief span of seconds, in a darkened room, you claim that you could recognize the assailant /instantly/? My, you must have some eyesight." "No, sir. Just well developed observational skills. For instance, sir, I noticed rather quickly that you are in fact not wearing any underwear." This bit of info he had gleaned from the man’s mind. He also knew /why/ he wasn’t, but Kenny didn’t figure that little tidbit would go over well in court. The attorney’s face went beet red with embarrassment. "Your Honor! I demand that statement be stricken from the record!" After some consideration the judge asked, "Is the statement accurate?" In a quieter voice, the attorney replied, "Well, yes, but I don’t see...." "If the statement is accurate, I see no reason to strike it from the record. You questioned the witness’s observational ability, and he has presented you with incontrovertible proof of his skill. Next question." The attorney continued, trying to trap Kenneth in an inconsistency. But Kenny was both too intelligent, and too well coached for that sort of thing. He grew bored, and thought it was time to shut the little weasel up. The man was afraid of.... rats? What a wimp. "Now then Mr........" The attorney was about to launch on a new tack, when he saw the mouse. No, this was no mouse, it was a /rat/. A big, ugly, hairy, disgusting rat. It crawled out from behind the witness chair, along the rail surrounding the witness box to the front, and sat up on its hind legs looking at him. He backed away rather rapidly, nearly knocking over the lectern in the process, and dropping his notes to the floor. "Is there a problem, Mr. Wheeler?" The judge intoned. "Can’t you see it?!" He cried, pointing. "What I see is a witness you’ve been badgering for the last hour and a half. What exactly is your problem?" Mr. Wheeler, deciding that he couldn’t possibly be seeing what he was seeing, replied, "N-nothing, your Honor. Excuse my outburst. I just-" All of a sudden, the room was crawling with them. They were pouring out of the woodwork, scampering across the floor. And then a single thought entered his head. / If you let the boy leave, the rats will go with him. / "No- no further questions for this witness, sir." And as quick as they had come, the rats were gone. The room was completely cleared of them. The trial continued for two more days, but the man was ultimately found guilty, and sentenced to life imprisonment for the murder of Kenny’s father. "Mrs. Sheridan?" The inquisitor was a tall man dressed in a black uniform of some kind. He held up his ID. "My name is Agent Wilkes. I work with the Federal Bureau of Investigation." This was both technically true, and a cleverly crafted lie. "Yes? What can I do for you?" "I’m here to talk to you about your son. May I come in?" She led him to the living room of her new house, and offered him coffee. "No, thank you. Mrs. Sheridan, your son’s behavior on the night of your husband’s death, it seems.... peculiar." "In what way?" Mrs. Sheridan would have been just as glad to put that night behind her. "He did not react as the average teen would have. It is our opinion that your son may be, how shall I put this?" Wilkes tried to find the words, and stumbled. "You’re not suggesting that he had something to do with it?" "Oh, no, ma’am. We believe that he may possess a unique ability to adapt and deal with crises. As such, we would like to know how he has come to develop such an ability, and if there is some way we can teach it to our men. You see, that ability would be very useful in the field." Agent Wilkes didn’t say /what/ field. Again, he was enfolding the truth in an elaborate lie. "I see." She didn’t, but didn’t wish to say so. "What do you want from him?" "If we could bring him to Washington for a few days. We’d like to interview him, to see what thought processes passed through his mind. We have some special techniques for allowing people to... well, to sort of relive the experience in their mind, so that they can analyze it step by step." He was temporizing now. He wasn’t used to doing it this way. "Well, I don’t suppose there’s any harm in that." "Fine. What I need you to do is sign this consent form. We’ll pick him up from school today." "What about clothing?" "We’ll provide him what he needs." He watched her sign the form, and he tucked it into his coat. "One of my associates will meet your son after school today. Good day, Mrs. Sheridan." Actually, they had met him before school. Three men in a black van pulled up along side him as he walked to school. It was just a matter of stopping, jumping out, and grabbing him. He had no time for defenses. He was bound, blindfolded and gagged as the van sped to its destination, which was nowhere near Washington, D.C. Kenny had fallen asleep in the van. When he awoke, he was in a locked room, containing a bed, a table, and some chairs. There was a door that led to a bathroom, thank God. He made use of the facilities, and then started to examine his... prison. There was no other word for it. The door to what he assumed was the outside world was electronically locked. There was no television, no radio, no books. He found his watch was missing, and there were no clocks in the room. /Where the hell am I? Who were those guys? What do they want?/ He had no clues to go on, yet. Nor did he have much time to think about it. He was startled when a man entered. The man wore a lab coat, but he was accompanied by two men, dressed in black uniforms, wearing sunglasses- / Oh, shit. / "Well, good morning, Kenneth. How are we this morning?" Kenny decided no reply was his best answer. "Come now, young man. We’ll not get much accomplished if you refuse to speak to me." He waited for an answer that was not forthcoming. "Very well, then. I will speak to you. "You are here so that we may find out how you do what you do. Don’t bother denying your abilities to us, we have already seen their use. We will not hurt you, but you /must/ cooperate." This line could not go unchallenged. "Or what?" Kenny asked. "You really don’t want to know," the man replied. "Now then, how long have you had your ability?" "Fuck you. Where’s my mom?" "Your mother has given us permission to do whatever we wish. You will be released after you cooperate with us." "Bullshit. My mom would never do that." The man simply showed him the form. "Of course, I’m told she didn’t actually have much of a chance to actually read it, but there you are." "Let me out of here. If you think I’m gonna help you, you can go blow yourself." "An interesting notion. Well, we shall see." Over the next week, which seemed like a month to Kenneth, they repeatedly worked to break down his will. They were attempting sensory deprivation and time denial on him. What they could not prevent was his looking into their minds. As such, he was never short of perceptions, and he always knew what time it was. They were going nowhere fast. It fell into a routine, and workers were scheduled to handle him. One worker, named Stephen, was especially nasty to Kenny. He would push him around, yell at him, and belittle him and his family. Kenny finally one day had enough of this. "Shut the fuck up you shit-faced little asshole! I’ve had all of you I’m gonna take." "Oh, yeah, boy? What you gonna do about it?" Kenny got an idea. "I’m not going to do anything. But you can go take a flying leap." The man was afraid of heights. Kenny’s words only reinforced the mental command he had sent. It took a great deal of effort, and it didn’t always work. But Kenny could see the change in the man’s face as the message struck home. The man wheeled around and marched out of the room. He passed several individuals in the hall, who were surprised to see him, but he answered none of their questions. He entered the stairwell, and headed for the roof. He arrived on the roof, and walked to the edge, climbing up on the parapet and stepping to the very edge. Without Kenneth there to reinforce his command, the man’s natural fears started to reassert themselves. As the man stood there, looking down, he started to sweat. His body was trembling, and he started to shake. His mind was fighting off the command, but would it be in time? Yes, and no. His mind finally rejected the command, and Stephen snapped upright, confused, and unaware of his surroundings. His movement and confusion caused him to lose his balance, and he fell. There were people below, looking up now, and he cursed fate that they would all think he jumped. /We should have left the kid alone/, was his last and best considered thought. "What do we do with him now? This kid is obviously a danger to us." "Word has come down from the office. He is to be terminated immediately." "Shit. Who has to do it?" "We’ll get one of the guards to do it." The guard entered the room to find Kenny sitting on his bed, hugging his knees to his chest. The guard drew his weapon.... /The fucker’s gonna kill me!/ Kenny thought quickly. He didn’t have time to search the man’s mind. He sent images certain to terrify anyone. All of a sudden, the guard rolled to the floor. He attempted to stand back up, but had to continue ducking. What he was seeing he couldn’t explain. There were spikes and blades and sharp objects coming at him from every direction. Finally, the guard slipped, and one of the objects plunged right through his head. The guard slumped to the floor, dead. He had died of a heart attack, evidencing the fact that you really can think yourself to death. Kenny grabbed the key card from the guard, and quickly left the room. He had searched the minds of everyone he came in contact with in the facility, so he knew how to escape. The key card would let him go anywhere, and he immediately dashed for the exit. Once he had made it outside the secure wing, which hadn’t been as hard as he had feared, he slowed down. The only guards he had encountered he had spoofed with a special little trick he did, masking himself behind a mental mirror. They never actually saw him, and, since he’d been messing with people since he’d got there, they assumed it was more of the same. It took minutes before anyone knew he’d escaped, and by then he was out of the building. "Now what do we do?" the assistant asked. "Call in the boys from Operations. We cannot let him loose on society." "I’ll call the director." Team leader Frank Bushnell opened the door to the briefing room. The team was gathered to find out what was on the agenda for today. "Morning people. It looks like the boys over at CSR have screwed the pooch again. They’ve got another job for us." His XO commented, "Dammit, those guys over at the Center for Special Research are always fucking up. Why do we have to clean up their messes all the time?" There was a general consensus in the room. "Shit, Deke. That’s what NSF is for. Our unit was designed to handle everyone else’s screwups." Actually, the National Security Force had been established for quite a different reason, but had turned into a government cleanup crew. "Yeah, I suppose. But they always send us such weird ones. What is it this time? They let an alien loose or something?" "Close enough." He passed a picture around. "This is the target. His name is Kenneth. They tell me he can.... control people." A murmur ran throughout the room. "Yeah, yeah. I don’t believe it either, but that’s what they say. Anyway, he got loose from the CSR facility in Caberton this morning. They want us to find him." One of the officers in the back, a woman, asked, "How is he to be handled?" Bushnell replied, "With extreme prejudice." That one phrase silenced the room. The female officer was shocked. "They want us to kill a, what is he, like 16? They want us to kill a /kid/?" "He’s 15, and yes, that’s the way it looks. You got a problem with this mission, Dante?" "No, sir. But I don’t like it." The kid reminded her too much of her little brother. Maria Dante had been with NSF for just over a year. This was the first time ‘extreme prejudice’ had been invoked. She wasn’t sure she liked the idea of having a dead kid on her conscience. "You’re not paid to like it, you’re paid to do it. Any further questions? Fine. Let’s move out." Kenneth didn’t know what to do. He knew the first place they’d look for him was home. Plus, he had no idea if he was even in the same city anymore. He didn’t recognize anything. He wandered for hours, not paying any attention to where he was going, while he tried to consider things. Suddenly, his eyes focussed, and he found himself in a very unsavory neighborhood. Prostitutes were on every street corner, and gang graffiti covered the walls of buildings. He knew he had to watch his step here. He was a scared 15 year-old who really wanted to be a safe 16 year-old. He turned a corner, and found a scene that turned his blood cold. A beautiful woman was being beaten by two men. Kenny made a snap decision. "Excuse me," he said, calmly walking up to them. "Get lost, kid," replied the bigger man. "EXCUSE me," he repeated, then continued, "but if you don’t let the lady go, you’re going to get hurt." That got the two men’s attention. They pushed the lady to the ground, and turned on Kenny. "You shoulda minded your own business, twerp. Now I’m gonna cut off your dick and shove it down your throat." The man pulled a knife. Kenny was prepared for the weapon. Actually, he was counting on it. With all the adrenaline running through his system, his ability was kicking into high gear. Kenny raised his hand in a circular motion, and ended by pointing to the as- yet unarmed man. The man with the knife mimicked Kenneth’s action, stroking the knife up, and then down into the other man’s jugular. The man, mortally wounded, tried to scream, but all that came out was a gurgle. Obviously, the knife had found its way into the throat. Now Kenny only had one attacker to deal with. He was advancing again, hand raised ready to strike. Kenny thought quickly. The man’s hand, almost of its own accord, drew the knife down, and plunged it into his own stomach. Blood gushed everywhere. The man staggered against Kenny, smearing blood on his shirt, until he stepped aside, and the man fell to the ground. Kenny was a little shaken, but not injured. He was also shaking from the stress and exertion. He slumped against the wall, all of his energy drained. The woman, who had been too stunned even to scream at the sight of two men killed in front of her, hurried to him. "Are you all right, Sweetie?" "Excuse me?" "I asked if you were all right." "I’m fine. How about you? They looked like they were working you over pretty good." "Nothing a couple Band-Aids won’t cure. They were just warming up when you got here. I owe you a big one, sweetheart. What’re you doing in this part of town anyway?" "Running." She knew he didn’t mean for exercise. "I see. Well, I think you’re gonna need a place to stay the night. Come with me. My girls’ll fix ya up." /Her girls? / The lady Kenny had rescued was Gwenyth Winters. She was the most respected madam in the city. The individuals who assaulted her that evening were from a rival. This man, a balding, uncouth pimp, did not understand the meaning of the word ‘class’. Gwenyth, on the other hand, was a different story. And so were ‘her girls’. Her ladies were, first and foremost that: ladies. Ms. Winters ran her house in the old traditions. She ushered Kenny into the foyer, to the gasps of those there present. "None of that, girls. This young man has just saved me from a rather nasty fate. His name is.... Sorry, I never got your name." "Kenny, ma’am." "Fine, Kenny. But please don’t call me ‘ma’am’. My name is Gwen. Anyway," she continued to the assembled crowd, "Kenny needs a place to stay. He is hiding from some downright unfriendly folk. Cheri, go get him a change of clothing. Donna, run him a nice bath." As the girls were set off to their tasks, Kenny said, "Thank you very much, ma.... um, Gwen. I don’t know what I would have done without your help." She was having none of it. "Oh, nonsense. You did do me quite a large favor. This is just my way of repaying it. By the way, how /did/ you handle those two men back there?" "You wouldn’t believe me if I told you." "Oh? Come now. I can believe quite a lot." "I /thought/ them into it. I can control minds." Gwen paused for a moment, and considered. "Yes, so you can." And that was that. Donna returned to say that his bath was ready, and she escorted him to the bathroom. She left quietly, a disappointed smile on her face. /This place is like something out of the 1800’s. A real, honest- to- God ‘house of ill repute’. All this niceness, the civility. You never see places like this on TV.../ His thoughts drifted aimlessly, as he sank into the hot water of the bath. Come morning time, Kenny was summoned down for breakfast, which was a sumptuous meal of ham and eggs, toast and jam, pancakes, milk, orange juice, and fresh fruit. He wondered how anyone could stay as trim as all these ladies obviously were - they weren’t wearing the kind of clothing that hid their figures, though it was respectable - and still eat all this food. After breakfast, they gathered in the study for an informal get-together. Gwen explained, "Most of our customers don’t come around until evening. During the day we chat, read, play the piano, and so on." Kenny had noticed there was not a television in the room. He commented on its absence. "That idiot box? Any intelligent person would throw it right out the window. Now, Kenneth, have you made plans for today?" "I suppose I should get going. Those guys from the Center are sure to be looking for me. However, I do owe you a favor, no matter what you say, and I wish there was some way I could repay it." Kenny considered for some time. "What about your... competitor? Maybe I could convince him to leave you alone." "No, dear. I wouldn’t dare to put you in such a position of danger. I will deal with him as I have dealt with all the others, by simply providing higher quality service." Just then there was a bang on the door. One of the ladies got up to answer it. She returned quickly, in the grasp of a big man with a nasty scar on his face. He threw her to the floor as everybody stood. Kenny and Gwen stepped forward. Life had changed for Kenny. These were his only friends now, and he’d be damned before he’d lose them. "Gwen, I want the cocksucker who killed my boys. An’ I want ‘im Now!" "Boudreaux, I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about." Gwen was playing it cool. Kenny now knew that /this/ was her competitor. And uncouth was a polite word for this man. "Don’t shit me, ‘cher. I knows that you met with ‘em last night. This mornin’, they in the freezer. Now, I’m gonna start tearin’ dis place apart less you give up your hired gun." They all knew he meant it. It was time for the final act. Kenny stepped in front of Gwen, to her eternal annoyance. "Look, /Boudreaux/, I handled your boys, all by my little self. And you know what? If you don’t turn around and walk out that door right now, you’re going to be joining them." "What kinda game you playing at? This ain’t no fuckin’ joke, no. You wanna play with ol’ Boudreaux and his Colt, you just better rethink it." The man drew his weapon, and cocked it, but didn’t really aim it anywhere. Kenny stared the man down. His hand began to shake. The gun, slowly turned itself on its master. The man was staring at the hand - /his/ hand - in terror. Soon, he realized the young man wasn’t joking. "Hey, friend. Hey, we can, we can work these tings out! You an’ me, we can make arrangements, ya? What you want from me!?" Kenny let the gun come fully around to press smoothly against the man’s temple. The fear in the man’s eyes was evident. He fell to his knees, pleading with the boy, now the man, who held his life in his hands. Then, Kenneth spoke. "You have two choices, /Boudreaux/. You can die, here and now-" "NO!" he screamed. "- OR, you can leave town. And I mean permanently. If I ever see your ugly face again, it will be the last thing that ever happens to you. I have the power to kill you. You know that. I know that. You do not have the ability to kill me. You may not believe that, but do you really want to test it? You have.... five seconds to make a decision. Starting now..... five ....four ....three .....two...." "Okay! okay! I go. You drive a hard bargain there, yessir. I guarantee." The tension was broken, and the man’s hand was free. He put the gun back in his holster, and turned to leave. "You’ve got twelve hours to leave. Oh, and one other thing. What the hell is your/ real/ name?" The man stopped, surprised. When he spoke the Cajun accent was gone. "Willie Dupine. How’d you know?" "My grandfather’s from Baton Rouge. If he heard the drivel you were just spilling, he’d’ve slapped you cross-eyed. Now, get out. You’ve already ruined enough of Miss Gwen’s day." And with that, he was gone. From that day on, Kenny and Gwen developed a stable arrangement. Kenneth provided a measure of protection for Gwen and the ladies, and in return, Gwen provided him with a home, and hid him from the NSF. Kenny had offered to scan the clients, to "weed out" the undesirable elements, but Gwen refused. She felt it would be an invasion of her clients’ privacy. Then one day, that opinion changed.... Kenny was walking through the upstairs hallway on his way to his room that night. It was about 11:00 pm, and the business had calmed, as was normal. Kenny had picked up the habit of peaking in on the ladies - mentally, of course. This activity he kept from Gwen, because he was sure she wouldn’t approve. As he passed Melanie’s room, he picked up a very strange image. He focussed harder. What he saw was from the man’s point of view. A woman, Melanie, tied to her bed and gagged. Her legs were spread painfully wide, and her body was folded up so tightly that she could have licked her pussy had she not had a sock taped in her mouth. It had to be uncomfortable as hell, but this guy was getting off on it. Then he started hitting her. The slaps were barely audible outside the room, due to the construction of the house. This was all Kenny needed to see, but he also knew that some guys get off on this. He needed to make sure Melanie had not agreed to this treatment. He focussed in on her mind... The terror in her nearly split his head open. She was so frightened that he wondered how he hadn’t picked up on it from down in the kitchen. Kenny shoved open the door, surprising the man. "What the fuck! Get the hell out of here you snot-nosed little punk!" The man flew at Kenny, knocking him back out into the hallway. Kenny was not a physical fighter. The man was pounding on him, beating him over and over. The ruckus caused a crowd to gather, but no one dared go after this man, as Kenny was the only male in residence at the home. Kenny knew he had to get the upper hand, but couldn’t think of what to do. He couldn’t concentrate hard enough for his usual tricks to work. Then he got an idea. "Pain." The one word threw the man back. Kenneth stumbled to his feet. He was badly beaten, and very shaky. The mental energy he was using for this was his last resource. He had to get this over with quickly, or the man would recover. "Unspeakable, terrifying agony. Your body is wracked with the worst aches you have ever felt. You will remember this night, and when you do, you will feel this pain again. If you return to this location, you will die." The man was writhing on the floor, clearly in extreme discomfort. He was begging to be released, but Kenny showed no mercy. "Release you? You think you’ve suffered enough for what you’ve done to /her?/" One of the other girls had gone into Melanie’s room, and released her. They were both emerging from the room just then. "I should make you bleed out your eyes for what you’ve done! I should kill you here and now!" Kenny was shaking now. Everyone else assumed it was rage. Kenny knew it was exhaustion. Only pure adrenaline was keeping him going, and he knew from experience that was a finite supply. The man started to choke on the pain he was feeling. It sounded like the final throes of a dying man. Melanie ran to Kenny. "Don’t do it! Kenny, he’s not worth what you’d have to go through! Please?" With one final surge, Kenny pushed the man into unconsciousness. Gwen checked that he was still breathing. Kenny told her, "You’d better get him out of here, before he... comes - " Before finishing his sentence, Kenny passed out. Slowly, Kenny came out of his fog. He felt very relaxed, and warm, but he was lying against a hard surface. As he opened his eyes and they focussed, he understood why. He was in the bathroom, being bathed. Melanie and Rachel were there watching over him and tending to his bruises. Upon seeing he was awake, Melanie communicated something quietly to Rachel, though Kenny couldn’t make it out. Rachel left the room, and Melanie turned back to Kenny. "I was beginning to worry," she said. "You’ve been out for quite a while. Almost an hour. Are you feeling okay?" "I.... think so. Pretty sore, though. I never did learn how to fight. Well, at least not normal style." "You were great. I couldn’t believe it when he started tying me up. I just couldn’t fight him, he was too big. But, how did you know I was in trouble?" "Well, I, um...." He wasn’t sure how to tell her he’d been spying. "I sort of, well, checked in mentally." "Oh." She paused. "Do you do that all the time?" "Sometimes. Usually, I just get impressions. You know, the kind of, ‘all is okay’, sort of thing. When I checked in your room, all was definitely /not/ okay. So I looked closer. I’m sorry, I could have been in there sooner, but I had to make sure........" "Sure of what?" she asked. He didn’t answer right away, and she repeated the question. "Well, sure that you hadn’t.... agreed to that. I know, it’s a terrible thing to say, but, well...." "No, I think I understand. Some girls might like that sort of thing. But none of them work for Gwen. I want to thank you for rescuing me. And don’t worry about... being late. I know you were just being careful. And besides, you got hurt worse than I did." With that, she leaned in and gave him a kiss. He didn’t turn away from her as he had in the past, but he was inexperienced at these sorts of things. "Ken, do you think I’m pretty?" she asked. "Huh? Well, yeah, of course I do." If she could have seen his erection, the question wouldn’t have been necessary. "Then how come you never flirt with me?" She sounded almost hurt. "Mel, I’m, um.... not real knowledgeable in that area." He couldn’t bring himself to tell her he was a virgin at his age. "Oh. Well, you shouldn’t let /that/ stop you. Practice makes perfect." She was wearing a bathrobe, which she slipped off. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Kenny’s breath caught in his throat. She was a beautiful young woman; her dark blonde hair framed a charming oval face with almond-shaped gray eyes, a petite nose, and a sensuous pair of lips. Her tits were ample, but firm, with not a hint of sag. His eyes traveled down her body, taking in her pubic hair, which confirmed that she was a natural blonde. Her legs were supple, and long. Her ass was well-defined and firm. In short, she was something close to a goddess in Kenny’s eyes. She slipped into the tub, which was big enough for the two of them, and a couple more if they were friendly enough. She moved to his side, and kissed him again, this time more passionately. Though unskilled, Kenny was enthusiastic, and a fast learner. Over the course of many minutes, Mel taught him many things about foreplay, and arousing a woman. When she felt he was ready, she moved her hand from his shoulder down his chest. Encouraged, he slid his hand to one of her breasts. She pressed into his hand, and he squeezed. A little too hard, but she endured for the sake of the moment. With gentle correction and tenderness, she instructed him in the ways of lovemaking. They continued on in this manner for some time. Finally, Melanie reached her hand down and around his cock. She knew that any further arousing was unnecessary at this point. Kenny was hard as iron, and, she knew, probably struggling to hold back. With one more kiss, she raised her body up in the water, and laid herself against him. Then she slid down his body, holding his cock in the proper position. She impaled herself on him slowly, ever so slowly. She could feel him fighting the urge. When she reached the bottom, she stopped. "Ken, I know it’s your first time. Don’t expect too much of yourself. You’ve already given me a great night." She kissed him again. When she felt he was ready, she began moving. At first, she made only small circles in his lap, grinding her pussy against his pubic bone. She leaned back, and brought his mouth to one of her breasts. He sucked in her nipple and tickled it with his tongue, as she had taught him. She loved this sensation. She began riding him in earnest. She used her leg muscles to raise herself off his lap, and her hands against the wall to push her back down. She moved faster and faster, sensing his approaching climax. She willed herself closer to her own orgasm, knowing he would be disappointed if she did not come. His hips were slamming up with her every downward thrust now, and she knew he was close. She was also close, and she knew how to bring herself off in this manner. She reached down with one hand and grabbed her free nipple. Kenny was still busily sucking on the other. As she felt his climax approach, she twisted her nipple. In his excitement, Kenny bit down on her other nipple. Unknowingly, he had imitated the sensation she was causing in herself. This was enough to bring her over the top. They both climaxed together, filling the bathroom with the echoes of their moans. When they both came down, Melanie rolled off of Kenny, but moved over to his side. She kissed him again, tenderly. Without letting him speak, she said, "Thank you." Then she rose out of the tub, wrapped her robe around her, and left without another word. "You’re welcome." From that day on, Kenny’s role at the house increased. He was now responsible for screening all guests. Discreetly, of course. He only needed to be able to see them for his scan to work. Gwen found that such a thing was quite useful. Kenny had saved her from two police officers and an IRS agent already in the few months he had remained at the house. Though Kenny and Melanie maintained a close relationship, they never again had sex. Neither of them wanted to spoil that moment, and truly, they had nothing in common. Kenny did, however, become a little more sociable with the ladies, who quite literally doted over him. He no longer refused their advances as he had, and found that his job had many new fringe benefits. When the road of life seems to be going smoothly, one should start looking for the potholes. Kenny had been with Gwen and her girls for several months, and he had even achieved some sense of security. This was almost to be his undoing. Whenever Gwen left the house, Kenny would accompany her as bodyguard, and consultant. It is useful to know when people are lying to you. It was on one of these occasions that the inevitable happened. Team leader Frank Bushnell was beginning to give up hope. It had been nearly six months since this case opened, and they’d had no sign of him. They had to assume he was still in Caberton. No one that day had seen him in any transit terminals. They had people stationed at all of them. His picture had been circulated to all of the law enforcement agencies. Now it was down to an area by area search, made more difficult by the fact that they couldn’t go randomly looking through houses. They just had to hope for a break on this one. And they got it. Frank was on duty with Maria Dante. They were cruising the red light district of Caberton. They turned a corner, and there he was, coming out of a restaurant with a rather nice looking woman. "Dante, verify!" he screamed. "That’s him, Frank," she responded. She still wasn’t crazy about this project, and had been rather happy that they hadn’t found him. The car skidded to the curb, and both officers jumped out. Their orders were specific. ‘Extreme prejudice’: subject is to be shot on sight. No questions, no conference needed. Frank raced to the trunk to pull out the rifles. Kenny and Gwen had just enjoyed a splendid lunch at a wonderful Italian restaurant, and they were walking to catch a cab when it hit him. /Danger. Where?!/ He started looking around, and he spotted them, half a block away. The car said.... /‘NSF! Shit!’ / He pushed Gwen back into the doorway of the restaurant, briefly explained, told her he’d try to make it back to the house, and ran. Frank lined up his rifle for a shot just as Kenny rounded a corner. "Shit! Let’s get moving, Dante!" They both ran after him. Six hours later, Kenneth arrived back at the house. It had taken him twenty minutes to lose them, using some of his standard tricks. He’d spent the rest of the time making sure he hadn’t been followed. When he walked in the door, he was exhausted. Gwen was waiting for him. "God, you look awful. Come on in to the parlor and sit. Charity, get Kenny something to eat." After sitting, Kenneth noticed there was another woman in the room. He began to rise again, but she waved him back down. "Hello, Kenneth. My name is Lorianne. Gwen called me this afternoon." Gwen continued, "You can’t stay here anymore, Kenny. It’s not safe. I’m sure those people got a good enough look at me to figure out who I am. You can’t be here when they come looking." The ladies continued, outlining quickly what was to be done. Kenny would no longer be a resident anywhere, but a vagabond. A freelance security specialist for these ladies, and others. "You see, Kenneth," Lorianne continued, "There are many establishments like this one in the local area. I’m sure you will be of immense service to us all. Hiding you is the least we can do to repay your services." Over the next several months, Kenny moved from place to place, staying one step ahead of the NSF. Each time they would find him, the network of people he now worked for would move him, and hide him, and he would get to know a whole new set of people. Frank Bushnell was frothing. They had been so close! At no time in the last months had they come as close as on that first day when they found him. Presently he was in his office, trying to figure a way to draw him into the open. Then an idea hit him. He called Deke into the office. "What’s up, boss?" Deke inquired. "We’ve got to find a way to draw this bastard out, and I think I’ve come up with one." "Sounds great! What do we do?" "That first group he was staying with. They’re the key to all this. Get me the report from the interviews, would ya?" Deke headed out to the main office, and returned with a folder. He handed it over. Bushnell skimmed through until he found the analysis sheets. "Here it is. The one girl seemed, according to the psychologists, overly attached to the maggot. Name of Melanie. We’ve got a photo, and other info here. Let’s put a team on her. If they were close, maybe she’s going to see him. Let’s pray she can lead us to him. "It’s worth a try, boss." For the first time in this case, Frank’s analysis was correct. Melanie *was* seeing Kenneth on a regular basis. And, of course, now that the NSF was following her, it was only a matter of time before she led them right to him. The day came late in autumn, while the trees were losing the last of their golden coat of leaves. A chill wind rustled through the city of Caberton, and so Melanie was dressed in a very warm fur coat for her semi-regular visit to see Ken. They met in a small, out of the way park that was not used much by the residents. She found Kenneth standing under a tree, waiting for her. "It’s good to see you, Mel." Kenneth opened his arms, and she melted against him. Their visits were far too short for her liking. This one would be shorter still, and much more unpleasant. They stood for a few moments, embracing, and then they walked together toward the edge of the park… "Coming out now, boss." Maria said. Maria Dante was, unfortunately, still on the team for this one. She figured Bushnell was punishing her, or maybe trying to toughen her up for this sort of thing. The other member of the detail today was Deke Hanson, the XO of the unit. "Ready weapons, Dante." Both members raised their rifles to their shoulders. They had learned, through trial and error, at about what range Kenneth could detect them. Therefore, they were using high-powered rifles at long distance, to minimize the risk. Of course, this allowed for the possibility of a bystander to get in the way of the shot, but that was a risk they would have to take. Unfortunately for them, this was not what happened. "When can I see you again?" Melanie asked him. "I don’t know, Mel. I love seeing you, but these visits are dangerous. We have to be real careful." They had stopped walking, and were standing together, looking at the sunset. "Take aim!" ordered Hanson. They placed the crosshairs of their scope on their target, and then adjusted for wind. "Steady…. Steady….. " Melanie turned to Kenneth, and leaned up to kiss him – "Fire!" Before either realized that the target was no longer in the clear, they had fired. Kenneth heard a very loud noise, and he jumped. As he did so, he loosened his grip on Melanie, and she fell unceremoniously to the ground. Kenneth looked down in astonishment, then disbelief. "Mel?" He asked tentatively. "Melanie? Come on Mel." He knelt beside her and shook her, but she would not stir: the life had gone from her. "Oh, shit!" Screamed Deke. "Let’s GO!" He led off at a run towards their target. Killing innocent bystanders was sometimes, as now, unavoidable, but it never felt good. Kenneth was weeping beside the lifeless body when he suddenly realized there was danger. Not just danger, but the /bastards/ who had killed Melanie. They were about 40 feet away. Just close enough… Kenneth used all his energy, and they froze. They didn’t fall over in their running posture: he allowed them to come to a stop. After that, they could not move. Ken took one last, long look at Melanie, and made for the two agents. "You mother-fucking sons of goddamned bitches!" He screamed. "Now, you’ll pay for this!" Ken wasn’t sure what he was going to do. It had taken most of his strength to stop them. He realized that both of them were still armed. He reached down and removed the rifle from Deke’s hands. Though he knew very little about guns, he didn’t figure he had to worry about the safety being on. He raised the gun and pointed the barrel at Deke’s head, and pulled the trigger. The rifle kicked so hard that he almost dropped it. When the sound died away, there was a second lifeless corpse on the ground in the park. Ken moved over to Maria. He pointed the gun in her direction, but found he just couldn’t pull the trigger. Enemy or not, she was still a woman, and he had a natural protective instinct for her. Still, she needed to be punished…. /Why doesn’t he just kill me?/ Dante thought. She was terrified now. Though she couldn’t move her head, Deke had been in front of her, and so she had seen the back of his head explode into a cloud of pink. She felt the warmth of the remains as they passed by her head. She would not be surprised to find her outfit bloody. She was very scared of the next few minutes. She trembled at the thoughts of what he might have in mind for her. Then, she trembled for a different reason…. Ken used what was left of his available energy to implant a command as deep in her mind as he could go. He sincerely wished that it would never fade enough for her to fight it, ever. His task finished, he stepped back to see if it would work. It did. Maria started sweating profusely, and rubbing her legs together. She didn’t realize yet that she could now move. She was becoming very hot. Her pussy was aching, and dripping. She dropped the rifle without consideration, and moved her hands to her breasts. In her daze, she knew not what was happening to her, but she cared even less. Soon, one hand made it’s way between her legs. Her slacks showed a very distinct dark spot there, and Ken could here the squishing noise as she rubbed her pussy through her clothing. Dante reached a fever pitch, and then she came. But that wasn’t the end of it. Her passion was left unsated, and her body cried for further contact. To her dismay, she felt her climax rising again. And then, she came, again. And again, and yet it was no better. Kenneth watched the entire process with almost disinterest. He could see that his order had succeeded, at least for now. He would never know if it would hold for life or not. He leaned against a tree and watched her. There were no passers-by in the park at this time; no one who would come to her aid. Finally, Dante passed out from sheer exhaustion, her hand still in her crotch, her shirt half-undone. Kenneth looked again at the fading sunset, and turned his back on it. He walked to the east, toward what, he did not know, but he knew one thing: the NSF had taken the only person he truly cared about, and for that, they would pay the price. Frank Bushnell was in his office, trying to find a way to recover from the week’s events. He was shaken from his reverie when Jason DeVries knocked on his door. Jason was his new XO, and he supposed it was time to brief him. "Hey, skipper. Just thought I’d check in. What’s on our plate right now?" Bushnell just handed him the file. He read quickly. "Is this shit for real, sir?" He had to ask. Everybody did, it was just expected of you. "Bet your fucking ass it’s real. This cocksucker just cost me two of my best agents." "Two, sir? I was under the impression that only agent Hanson was dead." "Yeah, well, from what I’ve seen of Dante, Deke got off easy." "Anything I can do for her? Maybe I should go talk with her." He offered. "Not a good idea, Jason. Stay as far away from her as you can. It’s the best thing you can do for her. That kid really fucked her up, bad." "Yes sir. Shall we get the team together sir? We need to decide on a new course of action." Frank harumphed. "Not that it’ll do a fucking bit of good, but you might as well." "Yes, sir. Right away." DeVries left the office. Maria Dante was in agony. And she was in ecstasy. To be precise, she was in agony /because/ she was in ecstasy. She had been aroused every moment of every day for the last two weeks. Even after she came, it wasn’t any better. She’d lost ten pounds already which, she admitted grudgingly, hadn’t actually hurt her any. She was weak, and she was frustrated, and she was very, very horny. Unfortunately for him, her brother Rico did not know this. He only knew that his sister had taken a leave of absence from a job he knew she loved. It was unlike her, and he wanted to find out what was up. He didn’t bother knocking; she had told him long ago just to come on in. He opened the door, and found her draped on the sofa in a bathrobe. She didn’t look at him, didn’t acknowledge he was even there. He closed the door quietly and walked over to her. "Maria? You okay?" he asked. She opened her eyes halfway, and looked at him. And her passion flared even higher. It wasn’t /him/ she was attracted to, necessarily. He was a male, and any male would do at this point. /My God! What am I thinking? I’ve got to fight this! / "Hey, Rico. You shouldn’t be here. I’m not…. well." "I see that. You should be in bed. Come on, Let me help you." He reached down and took her by the arms. The physical touch pushed her arousal even higher, but she fought it down successfully one more time. She allowed him to lead her into the bedroom. She thought she was going to make it through this little episode all right, until he touched her hand. It wasn’t anything special, just the sort of familial gesture a concerned brother would make. But it was skin on skin contact, and it was more than she could take in her present state. The weak sister he had been dealing with just moments before was now gone. In its place had been put an animal. Maria turned on her brother, and ripped his shirt off. He was initially too surprised to do anything. Before his shock could wear off, she threw him onto the bed. He was smaller than she was, but still, she had never been able to manhandle him like this. Maria shucked her robe quickly, and Rico realized she was wearing nothing beneath it. His sister had a great body, he admitted. Her shoulder-length black hair framed a pretty face, and it led him down to her large breasts, round and firm with not a trace of sag. Her small nipples stood hard, pointing slightly upwards and out from her chest. He looked further down to see that her pussy hair had been completely shaven. He had a few experiences with girls, but never had he seen this. Nor did he have long to admire it now. She climbed on top of him, and, before he could say anything, she plastered her mouth onto his. She worked her tongue into his mouth, thrusting it all around. Then she sucked his tongue back into her mouth with enough force that he wondered if he would ever get it back. Meanwhile, she had been undoing the belt on his jeans. When she had got them fully undone, she broke the kiss. She stood up briefly, and pulled his pants and underwear down and off in one swift motion. He sat up and started to protest to her, but he was forcibly shoved back down onto the bed. Maria was not hearing any arguments against her action. Sister or not, Maria’s actions had Rico hard as hell. She saw this, and knew no more work was needed. She straddled him, and plunged herself down on his rod. Rico let out a loud grunt, and Maria uttered a hiss. She froze but for a second, and then the ride began. She bucked up and down on Rico so fast he wondered how she stayed on. Since she seemed determined to fuck him silly, he figured he might as well enjoy it. Her tits were flouncing all over the place, so he reached up and grabbed them. He mauled her breasts ungently, even roughly. She paid it no mind, it only heightened her screams of pleasure. She rode him for half an hour. He came twice in that time, but she had him so excited, that he didn’t even lose hardness. She was, however, making him sore. He hoped she would be done soon, or he wasn’t sure if his prick would ever work again. Maria was finally close. Rico marveled as she quickened her pace, which he hadn’t figured was possible. Her moans and screams were filling the entire room, and, he figured, most of the rest of the building. He was again pawing her tits, and she reached back and stuck her middle finger up her ass while she frigged her clit with the other hand. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Maria let out an ear-shattering scream of delight, and passed out on top of her brother. It was a full day and a half later when Maria Dante awoke. The agony, and the ecstasy, were gone. But not entirely. There was enough of them left for her to realize that they would be back. After handling the necessary personal hygiene tasks, she found a note from her brother on the kitchen table. Dear Sis: I’m not sure what happened to you. I don’t blame you for what happened. I’ll be back in a couple of days to check on you. Maybe then you’ll be feeling better. Love, Rico /Well, as a matter of fact,/ thought Maria slyly, /I am feeling considerably better than I have been./ She worried what this might really mean for her future as she prepared herself some breakfast. DeVries had rallied the troops, and sent them off to hunt down their quarry. He met with Bushnell in his office. "The troops are out beating the bushes, chief. We’ll find this fuck for you." Frank just looked at him. "Yeah? And then what? I lose /another/ two agents? We’ve got no way of dealing with this kid." "I’ve got people working on that, too, boss. Don’t worry, we’ll work it out." "You seem to be taking awful liberties with my position, Mr. DeVries." To Jason’s abashed look he replied, "Don’t worry, you’ve done alright so far. It does, however, seem as if you’d like my job. Carry on, XO." With that, Frank went back to work, and Jason left to check on things. Over the next year, the NSF had contact with Kenneth Sheridan on only two occasions. On both of those occasions, they lost an agent. Having killed three agents and disabled a fourth, Kenneth had become the government’s single most wanted fugitive. Though the FBI couldn’t put public reports out about him, every agent knew what he looked like. It really was only a matter of time before they caught up with him. Bushnell was in the middle of what he called bureaucratic bullshit, better known as paperwork, when she arrived. "Agent Cassidy Peters reporting for duty, sir." She stood stiffly, awaiting an offer to sit that was not forthcoming. "And just what the hell are you doing here?" He growled. "I’ve been assigned to this task force, sir. I’m ready to take up position." "I told them specifically no females on this detail! Do you have any idea what this person is capable of? Have you /seen/ Maria Dante?" Frank was in a very foul mood now. He didn’t like being reminded of his failures, and to be forced to bring them up himself really flamed him. "Sir, I believe I am prepared to handle the task at hand. In any case, I was assigned by the Director himself, so I’m afraid you’ll just have to live with me." Apparently, Ms. Peters had not yet learned any level of tact or diplomacy. Unfortunately, she also happened to be right, which burned him even more. He spat, "Very well, /ma’am/. You’ll be partnered with Jesse. He just lost his partner to this cockroach. Have fun, and, don’t get yourself killed." "Yes, sir!" She responded, turning on her heel and leaving the room at a march. Several more months passed, with contact becoming more and more frequent. Each time, Kenneth would manage to get away, but it seemed to be getting harder. Each time it would take longer for him to recover from the strain. Each time it would be just a little more likely that his plan would fail. He knew what was coming, and he decided he would pick his time and place. The day was June 28, 1998. Kenneth Sheridan was 18 years old, and he was tired of running. He had made contact with the NSF, and had led them on a chase across a small section of the city. They thought they had him trapped. Ken knew better. He was projecting to the group a wall. They knew it was fake, because they could see it move. But they couldn’t pinpoint him behind it. Kenneth had decided what he wanted on this day. He approached his target carefully, not knowing for certain exactly how his illusion was effecting them. His target suspected nothing as he approached. Nor was anyone looking in her direction when he struck. In a lightning flash, he reached out, placed a hand over her mouth, and pulled her behind his illusion, forcing her gun out of her hand in the process. It was several minutes before she was missed. "Jesse, where’s your partner?" Jason asked. Jesse looked around frantically. "Oh, fuck." "God DAMN it! Let’s move! Walk through the illusion, but be careful. Who knows what’s on the other side." Meanwhile, Kenny had led Cassidy into a warehouse, and down a hallway. He was feeling the strain of controlling her while maintaining the illusion, and he could feel it slipping away. He had to work quickly. The warehouse stored large sacks of some kind of grain. He had taken the time to rearrange them to be useful to him. When they reached his chosen spot, he told her to stand still. She obliged while he quickly retrieved the rope he had hidden. He returned to her and turned her around. Then, he shoved her down onto the sacks. It wasn’t a far drop, and she was more sitting than laying. He tossed the ropes over beams in the ceiling, and evened them up. Quickly, for he felt his grasp on her slipping, he grasped her hands and tied them, pulling the ropes just tight enough that her arms were lifted straight up, without straining her shoulders. He tied her feet next. The position she was in was fully supported by the sacks of grain, but she was completely unable to move. Now, he could release his hold on her. "What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you little boy?" She said in as demeaning a voice as she could manage. "Funny you should phrase it that way. You’ve just answered your own question. Your agency took away from me. Now, I’m taking a small portion back. It’s not really fair, to you or to me, but at this point, I don’t really give a shit." Ken moved his illusions into the hallway of the factory, hoping to slow down the NSF to finish his business here. He then reached down and tore Cassidy’s outfit off. Those items that were too stubborn to tear, he cut with a knife. The knife made her very nervous. Once she was naked, Kenneth started kneading her tits. He pinched and twisted her nipples, making her moan and writhe in pain and pleasure. He took little note of her sounds, but moved his hand down to her cunt. He jammed his middle finger as far up into her as he could go. She uttered a very unwomanly squeak. "God, your tight." He uttered. He rammed his finger into her repeatedly, finally getting two fingers in. She was squeaking continuously now, in what was almost an amusing imitation of a mouse. He was unsure why she didn’t moan like most women, but didn’t really care. He removed his hand from her pussy, and placed his cock at her opening. She moaned, "Please, no…. let me go." "Yeah, right. When I’m done, bitch. When I’m done." The death of Melanie had quashed what little kindness he’d had left, and he had become quite mean-spirited in the intervening months. He slammed his cock home into her pussy, and she screamed. He ignored her, and continued pounding. While he pounded into her, he returned to twisting her nipples. She was in quite a lot of pain by now, and her squeaks had become grunts. She was hoping that Jason and the boys would find them soon, and kill this little prick. Her attention snapped back to the present when she felt him pull his cock out of her. She looked down to see him adjusting himself. He saw the question in her face. "While your twat is quite tight, you have yet a tighter hole, and I intend to use it." Before she could protest, he pushed into her ass unrelentingly. The sound she made was something between a scream and a moan, with a grunt thrown in for good measure. Her pussy juices lubricated him to some extent, but without any preparation, the act set her bowels on fire. She was in complete agony. Her face contorted with pain. He pushed into her faster and faster, until he was slamming her so hard she could hear his balls slap her ass cheeks. He continued for some time, and his pace grew more rapid still. She thought he was going to rip her ass apart. Finally, she felt him shudder, and felt his seed filling her bowels. It burned, and caused her yet more pain. He pulled out, and she slumped back, as much as she could in her position. After a few moments, when he had dressed, he looked at her. "I’m sorry you didn’t enjoy it, but it was the second to last thing that will ever happen to me, and I know that the last one isn’t going to be any fun, so I needed that." "Go to hell, you slimy little bastard!" She retorted. "I very well may, in which case I’ll see a lot of your friends. You know the really ironic thing, though? The part that really fucking sucks?" She felt no need to indulge his question. "Well, I’ll tell you. The thing that really sucks is that I’m losing the power. Whatever the hell it is, it’s nearly gone. I’ve had to stop my illusions, so I’ve got one last chance at getting away. It’s unlikely, but I might be able to survive today." With the illusions gone, Jason and the team raced into the warehouse and down the hallway. What they saw was the now-familiar wall. In front of which was tied a very naked Cassidy Peters. "Give it up, kid!" Screamed DeVries. "There is no way out of here!" "He ain’t gonna answer you, Jase. That would let you know where he is." Jesse responded. "Maybe not," said Jason, " but I’ve got a thought on that. Mickey, Ray, turn on your laser sights!" The two men complied. "Start at opposite corners of the room, and trace the wall in front of you, point at the floor just in front of the wall!" They did this, and everyone was stunned when their beams met at a point. "Aim above it and fire!" screamed Jason. Seven people let loose with M16A2 fire all at one spot. Not everyone hit Kenneth. Not everyone had to. The illusion stopped abruptly. Lying in a pool of his own blood, Kenneth was dying. No one in the group, however, really seemed to care. "How did you know that would work, chief?" Jesse asked DeVries. "I wasn’t sure, but I’d noticed the way the wall illusion had moved. It seemed as if it moved relative to where he was in relation to me. I figured, then, that the image was different for everyone, and that maybe where the images met would be where he was." "Smart thinking, boss!" said Jesse. "Yes, very smart thinking." Muttered Cassidy, "Now could somebody please untie me?" Jason stared at her. He’d already scored several million brownie points with his boss for solving this case. He didn’t figure a few hundred more would hurt, though. "You know, Jess" Jason said, "the kid didn’t have that bad an idea." Jesse and Jason communicated silently. Jesse nodded. Cassidy watched in horror as both men turned and advanced on her, unbuckling their pants as they came. Looking beyond them, she saw the others coming to join in. "Let’s show you why women don’t belong in the field….." On February 29, 2000, a child was born. He was a healthy baby, of 8 lbs., 9 oz. Like all babies, his eyes were blue, but these eyes were the sort of electric blue that almost glowed………. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----