Message-ID: <28874asstr$981976206@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: kellis X-Original-Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Subject: {ASSM} The Innocent Fugitives Ch07 {Varkel} (MF Mg MFM oral anal rape snuff caution) Date: Mon, 12 Feb 2001 06:10:06 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, english The Innocent Fugitives a Novel by Varkel Copyright (C) 2001, Varkel Chapter 7: Unforeseen Swap That evening -- or was it already morning? -- Paul awoke to find himself alone in bed. The bathroom light was on, and from the partially open door a shaft of it illuminated the chest and lower body of Bobbie, who lay naked on the other bed. Paul got up and peeked into the bathroom. It was vacant. He knew where Jenny had gone, knew it for a certainty. She had gone to experience that monster cock, despite the prick to which it was attached. "Well let her," he said voicelessly to himself, disappointed in the woman but not angry at her. "I've taught her to enjoy sex, and this is the consequence." "Paul," Bobbie whispered as he was about to return to his bed. "Paul, please lie beside me. I'm lonely." He paused and then realized that he too needed some cuddling. "OK, sweetheart, but just for a little while," he said and lay down next to the girl. Bobbie immediately snuggled to him, sought out his lips with hers and ran eager fingers through his chest hair. He embraced her with both arms, relishing the warm, soft feel of her body half atop him. "I promised not to ask again," Bobbie said in a hurried whisper, "but, you know, it's all right with me." Paul was sorely tempted; she was a willing, experienced girl. "Let's just touch each other, baby, and kiss," he managed to reply with a quaver. "Will you take off your underpants?" Bobbie chirped gleefully and rolled onto her back. "Yes, of course, darling." His cock was rigid, and he intended to masturbate while holding the lovely child to him. Nothing more than that, he promised himself. He struggled out of his underpants and lay on his back. The shaft of light fell across his erect cock which jutted from his belly at a 45 degree angle. "You're just the right size for me, Paul," the young girl said, not realizing how her words wounded the man, who would have given his soul to possess an organ with Todd's dimensions. Bobbie laid her head on Paul's chest and reached down to take his slender member into her hand. She then squirmed her head down his body until her face reached its objective. Her tongue flicked the head of it. He tried weakly, unconvincingly, to pull her away. "We're just touching and kissing, Paul," she protested in a sweet voice and then popped the glans into her mouth. "Bobbie! Please don't," he exclaimed and pulled her a bit roughly up into his arms, her face to his. She swung her left leg over the man, straddled him and sat upright. Even before he realized her intent, she contrived in a single motion for him to impale her lithe body. Her face and rounded torso were fully illuminated by the shaft of light coming from the bathroom. Her eyes were closed. Her upper teeth clenched her lower lip. Fingers on her right hand diddled her clit as she pinched a swollen nipple with the others. Paul gasped with pleasure and the beauteous sight of the naked girl atop him. He was being raped, he knew, but he did not protest. Indeed he began to fondle the child's lovely thighs as she moved on him. Her eyes suddenly popped open wide. Her mouth was a rictus. "Oh, Paul," she cried after seeming to hold her breath for some seconds. Her body trembled in orgasm. Paul pulled her down to him, resting her head on his chest, his chin grazing her flaxen hair. He began to thrust into her with primeval excitement, and her keening signaled the approach of a big one. They cried aloud together as the monstrous ecstasy struck them both at once. Bobbie lay atop him, breathing heavily. Paul lifted her forward until her face was above his. A moist messiness oozed from her onto his belly. They kissed. "We shouldn't have done that, Bobbie," he said in a tone that did not even convince himself. Her tone matched his. "I know Paul. I'm sorry. I won't do it again, I promise." Then she giggled. * * * "I heard water falling." It was Jenny's voice and her padding feet behind him where he leaned against the rail on the back stoop of the cabin. The woods were silent and the sky was just bright enough to announce the forthcoming dawn. She came and leaned against him, an arm around his shoulders, soft breast and hip pressing against him. He admitted, "I just took a leak." "Paul, you didn't!" "Nobody was looking. And a good-morning to you, too!" "Oh, Paul! It'll stink." "One time won't. Anyway, that's not what I smell." She sniffed. "What do you smell?" "Jism." "Wh-what?" In fact he was not certain of it. He could not remember smelling his own in such circumstances before, unless his nose was much closer to the source, though he had often thought he detected other men's remains in Beth. Might another's morning-after residue be distinctive? He craned his neck to regard the woman, who was staring up at him wide-eyed. Suddenly she lowered her head and looked away. Conversationally he asked, "Well, did it hurt you, too?" She said, still looking away, "I took a shower when I got home last night." "And I didn't wake up?" "Bobbie was sleeping on top of you. Talk about an odor!" "Oh, ah, Jenny, I ..." "You what?" He sighed. "It's stupid to say she raped me, but that's how it felt nevertheless. She sort of ... works me up, and then ..." "Yes, I've noticed," observed the woman dryly. "Paul, if we aren't careful, she'll end up pregnant." "She has yet to have a period." "That's true, and if you time it right she may be nine months late with her first one." He gulped, then pointed out, "You take the pill, don't you? Do you have some extra ones?" "No. Even if I did, she's too young." "Well, you know she's going to screw. She loves it the way most kids love cotton candy." The woman hugged him tighter. "She's not the only one." "Yeah, here lately. So it didn't hurt, huh?" He felt her shiver against him. "Can't you say?" Her voice was withdrawn. "What do you want me to say?" "What did it feel like?" She hesitated. Taking a deep breath, she admitted, "It was bigger, but I can't really say it hurt me." "Did it all go in?" "I ... think so." "You don't know?" "Do you really want to hear what we did, Paul?" "Yes, I do." Her hand slipped under the towel he had wrapped around his hips. She murmured, "Yes, you do, don't you! Sandra and I did a -- I guess you call it a 69 -- while he ... fucked me. I could tell he was bigger and hit my cervix even with my legs down, but mostly what I felt was her tongue." "Drove you wild, did it?" "While it was happening. Sandra has such a wicked tongue!" "So now you're addicted, is that it? I'm surprised you came home." "Addicted? To fucking, but that's _your_ fault! You're still my man, Paul. And thank you. This _is_ my home! Wherever you are is home." Finally his arm encircled her back. The hand in his towel caressed him gently, fingertips lifting his testicles. She chuckled. "I saw something you won't believe." "Tell me." "Sandra can swallow all nine and a half inches." "Bullshit! She can?" "I saw her do it, even to the point of mashing her nose against his pubis." "Jesus Christ! Didn't it choke her?" "No. I think she's used to it." "But where does it _go_?" "Into her throat. Where else could it go? But I don't know; I didn't try that... She's proud of it. I gather it took some practice. Paul ..." "What?" "I'll try to ... I'll try to learn it for you, if you'll let me." "Why would you do that, Jenny?" She sneered, "Todd is a self-centered boor who thinks any woman should open herself merely at the thought of his oversized organ. But you ..." Her voice softened tenderly. "I think it would make you love me." "I already love you, Jenny." "Do you mean I should forget it?" "Huh? No, no, I didn't mean that!" She chuckled deep in her throat, leaned in front of him and kissed his nose. "I'll start practicing as soon as we get back from Youngstown." "I will, too!" piped a voice behind them. "That sounds like fun." * * * They were ready for the trip to eastern Ohio. Todd had helped Paul attach the battered trailer and the two of them had secured the bikes inside. Todd swaggered that morning, although he said little. He had dicked both of Paul's girls and he felt as smug as a cop. Sandra was in a foul mood and spoke sharply to everyone except Bobbie. Paul and Jenny exchanged uncomfortable looks as they settled in the front seat and prepared to begin a journey that promised to be awkward at best. "I don't want to be next to him," Bobbie protested vehemently when Todd positioned himself beside her in the back seat of the car. "I'll sit next to you, honey," Sandra told the girl, pulling her husband roughly from the car and getting in herself. Todd squeezed next to his wife and shut the rear door. The motorcycles were in the trailer. There was nothing left to do but leave. "It'll just be for a few hours," Jenny leaned over and whispered to Paul who sat behind the steering wheel. They set off and not a further word was spoken in the car for the next hour and one half, until they reached Toledo, when a dispute arose between Sandra and Paul about which direction they should go on I475. "Drive straight ahead," the woman demanded. "We don't want to go to Detroit." "I know what I'm doing," Paul barked. "We'll connect with another freeway going this way, and it will take us to the turnpike." Sandra grumbled but said nothing further. When they reached the toll gate of the turnpike the tension in the car was oppressive. Sandra then began to play with Bobbie, who did not mind the kisses and probing fingers. But she protested, when the woman sought to pull down her jeans. "Please don't, Sandra. The truck drivers will see me." "Oh, yes, and that sight will make their day," she replied and continued to pull on the girl's jeans. "Stop! I don't want this," Bobbie whined and began to sob. "Leave her alone!" Jenny shouted, turning in her seat to face the other woman. "This doesn't concern you," Sandra sneered and resumed her efforts which the girl, now crying openly, resisted. In a reckless, dangerous maneuver Paul suddenly veered from the outside third lane of the turnpike to the inner one heedless of the loud blasts of truckers' horns. At seventy miles per hour the Taurus turned onto the off ramp that lead to an enormous plaza that looked almost like a shopping mall. He braked the car sharply, throwing all its occupants forward. The tires squealed and the car came to a stop not far from the parking area. "Get out!" Paul yelled as he squirmed around in his seat. "Take your cycles and leave us alone!" Bobbie opened the rear door and grasping the satchel that had ridden between her feet, scurried from the vehicle, zipping up her jeans and straightening her clothes furiously. "We can't do that, Paul," Sandra said with an evil voice. "That would put us too much at risk." The woman retrieved a gun from somewhere in her clothing. It was not large, but death peered from its muzzle. She flicked off the safety. "Get out of the car, both of you," she demanded arrogantly, knowing her authority at the moment. For just a moment Paul thought to protest, but Jenny pulled on him desperately and they both got out of the vehicle to stand next to Bobbie. Todd and Sandra scurried around to the front seats, Todd behind the wheel. Without another word they drove off, reaching highway speed before entering the on-ramp. "Shit!" Jenny exclaimed in utter disgust. They were very conscious of their new status as pedestrians. Large semis and passenger vehicles of all sorts strewed the parking area. Traffic roared behind them on the turnpike. "I've got your suitcase," Bobbie chirped, wanting a hug, a kiss, anything affectionate. "Oh, you darling girl!" Jenny exclaimed and pulled the girl to her in an embrace. Their money was in the valise. "What now?" Paul asked in utter dejection. "Let's get something to eat," Jenny suggested and grasped the hands of her two companions urging them forward. * * * They gathered at a table with their trays of food. "We can walk out of here, Paul," Jenny suggested, trying to reassure her mate between bites of hamburger. "There's a road away from here that must lead to a town. Paul poked at his eggs in obvious disgust at their situation, something seemingly beyond his control. "I don't mind walking," Bobbie said in a clear young voice. Paul looked at the girl and raised a hand to fondle her flaxen head, to which Bobbie leaned in utter submission. "We'll find a way," he finally said with a certain determination, gazing at her young beauty, perhaps in love. * * * Jenny and Paul lingered over coffee refills. Bobbie had begged for quarters and scurried off to play video games in a nearby arcade. "You've really fallen for the girl, haven't you?" Jenny declared softly, looking up at her man with a worried expression. "I love you, Jenny, more than anyone," he replied, hunching over the table, "but I have come to feel like a father to Bobbie, even though I'm an incestuous pervert of one." "It's not your fault," Jenny said sweetly and placed a hand over his affectionately. "She's a peculiar girl, and it would perhaps be best if you give her what she needs. Otherwise she might go wild with boys and become pregnant before she's thirteen." "Do you really think so, Jenny?" "Yes I do, and I know it's what you want, too." "I'm not a pervert!" "She's extremely sexy, Paul, despite her age. I suppose it's because of her experience and the manner in which she accepts sex as a purely natural function." "You'll have her too, won't you?" "Yes, Paul, but fortunately _I_ can't get her pregnant!" They suddenly looked up at the sound of Bobbie's childish voice. The girl came toward them through the jungle of tables pulling a teenage boy by the hand. "This is Jason," she announced brightly, nodding her golden head at the confused, good looking boy who shuffled his feet in embarrassment. "He has a car and he might want to sell it to us." "It's just a jalopy," the boy said shyly, "a '78 Country Squire station wagon and it's rusted out a bit." He added with some enthusiasm, "But it runs well." "How much do you want for it?" Paul inquired cautiously, looking up at the pimply faced lad who could not have been much more than sixteen years old. The boy blushed deeply. "He wants eight hundred dollars," Bobbie announced eagerly, "and twenty minutes with me in the back seat." "Twenty minutes!" Jenny smirked. "Do you really think you'll need so much time?" "I'll double that and you won't touch the girl," Paul said with authority, rising to his feet. Bobbie frowned and stamped her foot in disappointment. Jason was eager to conclude the transaction, which took place outside next to his car, a near wreck. None of them worried about the paper work. At least the tires retained plenty of tread. * * * Todd, in the lead, pulled into the country lane and brought his Harley to a stop behind a tree, out of sight of the two-lane road. Sandra rode in just behind him. He held up a hand, not trying to speak over the poorly muffled pops of the big idling engines, and craned around to watch the road behind through the narrow gap between the bushes. He saw a flash of blue. Good! The pickup that had been worrisomely following them the last few miles went on past. He drew a finger across his throat, the signal to cut engines, and immediately stopped his own. When the woman's machine also fell silent, he asked, "Want to take a break?" "Yeah, although we need a few things." "Like?" "Like a map and something to drink. God, I thought those cops would never let us go!" "We'll stop at the next gas station. Right now I need a leak." He set the kickstand and got down from his machine. Sandra joined him, squatting in the bushes. She finished first. "Hurry up, will you? I'm thirsty." "Let me shake it off." He turned toward her and flipped the foreskin back and forth. She sniffed. "I told you that thing would get us in trouble. If you hadn't needed to stick it into Paul's women, we'd be 50 grand ahead right now." "We'll still make it, soon as we figure out how to get to Youngstown on these back roads. The cops in Ohio don't know us." "Yeah, and that's pretty damn strange, when you think about it." He shook his head. "Maybe the feds that were looking for us in Michigan didn't expect us in Ohio. Maybe they never told the locals." She nodded slowly. "That has to be it. When the pigs discovered we weren't Paul and Jenny, they just let us unload our bikes and go." She laughed and continued mockingly in a deepened voice, "'Ms. Kettering, we're sorry that we have to impound your vehicle. We don't doubt you bought it from Lanning, though without even a bill of sale I doubt you'll get it back.'" Todd's laughter joined hers. He stood before her pulling on his penis. "What about it, Ms. Kettering? Can your thirst wait a few minutes?" She eyed his offering. "Think your kickstand will hold both of us in this soft dirt?" He leered. "I'll put a rock under it." She undid her belt and lowered her jeans again as she turned around toward the motorcycles. "Then you find the right --" Thump! They stared up wide-eyed at a large blue pickup truck that bounced onto their grassy lane, hurtling toward them too fast for reaction. They had only begun to flinch back into the bushes when it struck the parallel motorcycles, knocking both off the ground with thunderous metallic crashes. Both machines, trailing parts, flew past them into the woods, the truck skidding after. Curiously Todd's helment, which had been perched atop his sissy bar, flew through the air and smacked him in the back, knocking him down and airless. Sandra's impulse to flee was overridden. She veered to crouch beside her fallen husband, helping him flop over onto his arched back. His eyes stared at her hugely above a fish-wide mouth. He was trying to gasp for breath. She ignored the oversized penis, still half erect, dangling obscenely from his lowered britches. The sounds in the woods died away except for one roaring engine. Suddenly the truck backed out of the brush in a flash and halted, shuddering, behind her. She did not spare it a glance, even when its engine quit, a door slammed and twigs crunched under approaching boots. "Speak to me, Todd! Please speak to me." "What's the matter with him?" demanded a gruff voice behind her. At that moment Todd managed to draw a first, wheezing breath. He began to pant. Sandra looked over her shoulder. She saw a large man dressed entirely in black, including riding boots. "_You're_ what's the matter with him!" she declared venomously. "You son of a bitch!" Whap! Stars floated though her vision. She found herself face down in last winter's dead leaves. The back of her head ached until a sharp fiery pain from the top superseded it. A hand lifted her by the hair of the head and set her back up on her haunches. "Don't mention my mother again," murmured a deep voice in her ear, one whose venom made hers seem comparable to the prattling of a babe. Spitting out dirt and leaf particles, she hunched herself around to stare at her tormentor. "Who're you?" she demanded hoarsely. "You can call me 'Slim.' I've got a few questions for you." He grinned, looking at Todd's lowered britches. "Were you about to get it on?" "You're not a cop!" His grinned widened. "Right. No Miranda Rule applies to me." He glanced around. "A good place to get it on is also a good one for interrogation." She staggered to her feet, fumbling in her blouse. "That's what you think!" She produced the small pistol that had so easily overpowered Paul. "Now give me the keys to your truck before I kill you." His expression changed -- but not as she had expected. He laughed and shook his head. "You poor, stupid bitch!" She pulled the tigger so hard that the pistol barrel wavered. But nothing else happened. Deliberately his big hand enclosed hers, wresting the weapon away. He held it up before her with one hand while the other thumb pried back something that clicked above the handle. "This is a Colt .32 on the 1911 design. You have to cock it first. Did some man always make it ready for you before? Have you even worked the slide?" He pointed it at Todd's face and pulled the trigger. Todd flinched, gasping, as the hammer fell with a snap. Slim laughed. "Is it even loaded?" Zing-zang! He pulled and released the slide. Almost immediately the small weapon roared with shocking loudness, producing a tongue of flame that licked toward Todd. Sandra jerked back, face suddenly white. Despite the ringing in her ears, she heard Todd scream in disbelief, "He shot me!" She knelt to her husband, running her hands over his shirt. "Where are you shot, honey?" Behind her the big man laughed. "I missed. Powder particles only stung his face. This time." She raised up to look at him. "What do you want?" "A couple of things," he answered, tilting his head at the display below them. "Your man's dick is impressive. It may even be bigger than mine. Let's see if it is. Suck him up." "Wh-what?" He extended the smoking pistol until it was inches from her face. "You heard me. Bend over there, put his dick in your mouth and suck the blood into it. I've got some questions for you two and I don't care which one of you answers me." With a sigh of resignation, Sandra fell to her knees and took the familiar organ into her mouth. She had never yet been allowed to pull up her own britches, of which fact she was suddenly reminded. Hands raised her buttocks higher. She groaned through her nose as rough fingers thrust first into her dry vagina, then into her almost virgin anus. "Not very wet, are you, Ms. Kettering? You must be one who dries up fast. Well, this may hurt you more than it does me." She heard him spit. A moment later a large, blunt, rubbery object forced its way into her bowels. She groaned longer and louder but dared not expel her growing mouthful. "Are you fucking her?" Todd asked, looking above her with eyes alight. "Up the ass, buddy," was the grinning answer. "'Up the ass!'" Todd breathed. "She never let you, did she?" "No. Said I was too big." "Well, this is how you do it anyway." The big man laughed shortly. "Tell me, buddy, what was the truth of your dealings with Lanning and Collier?" "Who?" "Maybe you knew them as Paul and Jenny." "Oh. I fucked her and that little bitch, too." "I mean, how is it that you came to be driving Collier's car?" "We told the cops. Bought it from them." "Somehow I think that's a lie, but I don't really give a shit how you got it. You were with them a while, I take it, if you plugged the woman. What little bitch?" "They called her Bobbie. I think she's from Michigan." "Describe her." "About twelve or thirteen. No tits to speak of. Tight little cunt! Let's see, she had blonde --" "Nevermind. Bobbie Marie Gentry is her full name. So, you're a kid fucker, are you?" "What do you care? She ain't _your_ kid!" Slim chuckled grimly. "You think that would make a difference? Listen up, now: here's the $64 question. Where did they say they were going after they swapped cars with you?" Todd shook his head. "I never heard them say. I don't think they had any particular place in mind. They were just running from a murder charge. And you're wrong. We never swapped cars." "Then you don't know what they're driving now?" "Last I saw them, they were afoot." "Wrong answer." With an awesome display of brute force, Slim ripped the woman's jean shirt up the back, parting it from tail all the way to collar. In his hands the hooks of her bra straightened and the halves of it on her back parted with a snap. With one hand he took up the pistol that he had laid on the ground beside her while the other slipped under the loosened cloth and crushed her breast in his fist. She raised her head to begin a scream, choked off by a deafening pistol explosion above her. She felt Todd's body jerk and raised up in horror to see a strange confusion of flesh where his left eye had been -- with flecks of red and white scattered into the bushes behind him. She felt his last breath escape his chest as she watched. His head fell back, the one remaining eye staring sightlessly into the blue sky. The agony in her breast eased. Numbly she felt the huge member straining wetly in her entrails. Grunting, the man finally released her. She fell forward across her husband, eagerly turning his head in her hands. The rear of it was an even soggier confusion than the eye socket. "My god, you've killed him!" she cried in disbelief, rolling onto her back and staring up at the hovering monster. He smiled at her in satisfaction. "I'd heard of that, but this is the proof." "What are you talking about? You've _killed_ him!" "Yes, and put his spunk on your chin while mine was pumping into your ass. Don't you think that's interesting?" She seemed to be tasting her lips. "You, you ..." "Do words fail you, Ms. Kettering? That's a shame. Because I'm about to give you the same test your husband didn't pass." Her eyes narrowed. "We have $50,000 worth of Marigold Jane seeds, Slim. They're all yours if you let me go." He shook his head. "I don't give a shit about that, Ms. Kettering. And you don't seem to understand the situation. The question is not _whether_ I let you go, but _how_." "What do you mean?" He held the pistol pointing negligently near her. "Fast or slow. It's up to you. Let's start by having you take off what's left of your clothes." * * * "Well, son, you're early! It's not even suppertime. Give us a kiss." He crossed the room with his hands behind him, leaned down and kissed his mother's lips. When he raised up, she smiled with twinkling eyes. "What've you got for me?" "Something a bit unusual." He passed her a plastic zip-lock bag containing a large, bloody piece of meat, but retained another package behind him. "What is it?" She put down her knitting and held the bag up, peering at its contents, turning it this way and that. "Why, it's a ... cock! A cock with the balls still attached. Wow! And a big one it is, too!" Her face was wreathed in smiles. She parted the seam of the bag, found the head and raised it out before her. "Good heavens! What was this thing like when it was erect?" "About an inch longer than mine, I think." "You saw it, then? Hey, it's fresh!" "I cut it off him about three hours ago." "Hmm." She sniffed the bloody backside. "He hadn't been dead very long, either." "About ten minutes." "Son, you shouldn't take such chances!" He laughed. "No chances taken here. He was a dope dealer. I stole a truck and ran him down in the woods. You'll hear something about it on TV when they find the body." She had withdrawn the limp foreskin and sniffed the glans. "Can that be spunk?" "It can. He was getting sucked off when I blew out the back of his head." "Surely not by you!" "Partly. I did the top blowing. His wife was at the bottom." "His wife!" "Yeah. I brought along a part of her, too." He presented the other plastic bag, which seemed to contain undifferentiated bloody flesh. "Part of a woman?" demanded his mother, her lip curled down. "Not a unique part." "What do you mean?" "We've all got one. This is her asshole and about three feet of large intestine." "Say that again?" "I thought, it stands to reason that if you cut the sphincter muscles loose around the asshole, you can pull the intestines right out. At least you can on a pig. And guess what: you can on a human, too." She shook her head. "If it was a man's asshole, but a woman's? Yuck! What in hell did you want with her asshole?" "You might say I got attached to it." "You fucked her up it, did you? Did she like it as much as I do?" "She didn't say." "You killed her, then." "Yeah. And removed my evidence." "That's my smart boy! Come on into the bathroom. I want to see if this one is bigger." "Huh! How'll you do that?" "You see this artery? I'll bet if I blow hard into it ..." NEXT: Chapter 8: Refuge Varangian: ludmax11@hotmail.com Kellis: kellis@dhp.com -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+