Message-ID: <18238eli$9812240434@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: tmquin@ibm.net (Thomas M Quin) Subject: {ASS}SSK: Mary Anne -- Epilogue (M/F, NC, B&D, Kidnap) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.bondage Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: tmquin@_NS_ibm.net 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: <3680dfce.348368030@news3.ibm.net> ***************************************************************** STANDARD DISCLAIMER =================== The following piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment and has been posted only to an appropriate group on the Internet. If it is found in any other place this is not the responsibility of the author. The author explicitly prohibits. 1) The posting of this story in an incomplete form. 2) The use of this story in a larger work without his express permission. 3) The use of this story on any CD, BBS or Website without the written permission of the author. This work is copyright TM Quin 1998. All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this story, some of which are dangerous or illegal. Quin 1998 tmquin@ibm.net ***************************************************************** Getting Even with Mary Anne by Quin ================================ Epilogue: "Do It Yourself Justice" =========================== And it might have ended there if old man McAlister hadn't opened his stupid mouth. I returned to my car, dumping the bag of evidence in the trunk, and got ready to leave. I even started the car and turned on the radio, then turned to pull some cans from the cooler in the back seat . That's when I heard the news broadcast with old man McAlister giving a statement to journalists. I admit to only half-listening. The guy's a windbag, always has been and loves the sound of his own voice far too much. Finally, though, someone asked a question and his answer shook me. Apparently some judge had decided that Bobbie's suicide note was not admissible evidence, so Mary Anne was off the hook. I didn't understand why. Still don't; I'd always assumed that a confession in a suicide note was evidence enough, but there was some bizarre legal precedent that said otherwise. I immediately recognized the stench of McAlister's political influence. So did some of the journalists; the questions became more hostile, and McAlister tried to excuse himself. The news anchor said that it wasn't over, adding that Bobbie's note had named all of those involved and some prosecutor had smelled blood and was "pursuing other leads." Still, it said enough -- thanks to daddy's influence, she was probably not going to jail. She looked up in surprise when I re-entered the room. She'd struggled and managed to knock the chair over but hadn't gotten any further. Using the knife I cut her free and grabbed the spare rope to tie her more securely, then threw her over my shoulder and took her downstairs to where my car was waiting with the trunk open. Sometimes if a man wants justice, he has to do it himself. Dumping her inside, I hog-tied wrists to ankles, then closed the trunk. I felt some urgency -- there was a good chance daddy may ring his pumpkin to pass on the good news, maybe even come over himself. I needed a few things from the house and quick. I took all her baggage, then checked the Taurus in case there was any more. Fortunately she had been living from a single bag so there was nothing to pack. About the only thing of hers I left was the mobile phone -- everything else joined her in the trunk. I unloaded the larder and refrigerator into a box which I dumped in the back seat, then ran upstairs to recover her boots. While I was there it struck me that it was a waste for all of daddy's kinky stuff to be left behind. Anything that might remotely fit her joined her in the trunk. Now for the final act. The farm was too far from town to get any public utilities, so a diesel generator provided power, and cooking gas was fed from a tank outside. It took me a few minutes to figure the timer on the oven, setting it to come on in about 2 hours, then I turned all the burners on full and started to fill the house with gas. I was in the next state when the house exploded. Fortunately all the press nearby made sure that the report hit the newswires pretty quickly. Old man McAlister was frantic, and apparently the local police and the fire people covered the scene like a rash. I settled back and enjoyed the spectacle as relayed by radio. It was only then that I wondered how to get her back to California safely. In the end, I left her tied up in the hayloft of an old barn while I picked up some camping gear in the next town. I don't know which of us was more relieved when I came back and found she was still there. The story of how we got back is almost an epic in its own right, and maybe I'll tell that another time. So what happened? Well, McAlister admitted to hiding a fugitive, claiming that his daughter must have died in the explosion. Of course, the FBI determined there was no human remains and that the explosion was deliberate. The current theory is that Mary Anne faked her own death to avoid prosecution. Most people suspect that daddy is still hiding her somewhere, but he'll find out what the grand jury believes next week. Now that McAlister's power base was broken, all sorts of people started coming out of the woodwork. I hear that Betty has agreed to testify if she's granted immunity. As the injured party, I've received some good publicity, too -- just last week Barbara Walters was sitting in my den doing a "60 Minutes" interview with me. Amazing. At the end she asked where I thought Mary Anne was. I just shrugged and said I figured she was out of the country by now. I had to suppress a smile of course, what with Mary Anne being bound and gagged less than twenty feet from where Barbara was sitting. And Mary Anne? At the moment she spends most days strapped into the padded box I built under the stairs. That old box is working wonders with Mary Anne's attitude -- the girl's so happy to be out of it that she'll do anything for you, anything at all. At night I take her out and we play lots of games. Like I said, she's much more amenable these days. It's interesting how people's expectations contract to meet their environment. When I was in jail I used to think it was a good day if I avoided being beaten up. I think Mary Anne's finding out the same thing. Back in Washington, I suspect you'd have to buy her a meal, take her to a show or buy her something nice just to get to first base. These days she'll fuck you for a square meal. And I like the box -- it puts her conveniently at hand when and if I need her. But it has its disadvantages, such as having to keep her gagged all day in case I have any unexpected visitors. So I have a contractor working on converting my basement. I pay well and he doesn't ask questions, like what the little room at the back is for. He's obviously an honest man, otherwise he'd have realized that it has the same dimensions as a standard jail cell. In fact, it's exactly like the cell where I spent most of the past twelve years. I don't think I need tell you what it's for, do I? The nice thing about DIY justice is that you can make the penalty fit the crime. I'm sure that twelve years will be long enough for Mary Anne to think about her mistake. Of course, I haven't told her about that yet. The End To contact the Author Please remove the _NS_ from the return address. ************************************************ 5000 NEW UNPOSTED Pictures New Original Fiction #### ## #### #### ###### ##### # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # ##### # # # ### ###### # ### # ### # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #### # # #### #### ###### ##### http://www.gagged.com THE Bondage Site All content in this site is original, exclusive, and continously updated, focusing on beautiful young women, mouth-packing gags and tight sexy restraint. ************************************************* -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----