Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 {Story Codes/Notes: This is a continuation of Chapter I (\Parent
Directory/Substation.Txt...) and contains Sado-masochistic themes. 
Including, but not limited to Rape, Torture, Sadistic Murder, Picarism
(Self) forced sodomy, humiliation, Femdom, sexual conditioning, Mind
Control (Passive Aggressive) and flashback triggers.  For the main
character, as well as various neuroses associated with the co-narrator. 
(Body Fluid Phobia, Anthro-Disphoria, and Latex Fetish.)

   This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to real people, living or
dead (Other than your's truly) places, events, or plagiarism are purely
coincidental, or at most inspiration.  I do not condone anything like this,
on the contrary, I'm tempted to hunt down anyone I hear about exploiting
someone sexually.  Fortunately, I'm pathologically incapable of it, as far
as I know.

   There's also some romantic recovery, so any explicit sexual content
should come after a significant build up, and escalate slowly...}

   Chapter II

   Dale {MF NS Nude.}

   She screamed, so I ran in my room.  I didn't know what to do but pull
the covers up over her, and curl up behind her.  "It's okay," she screamed
louder, "It's just me.  God, you're freezing!" I rubbed her arms, but she
stopped screaming, and started sobbing.

   I saw the video, and it was pretty brutal.  Not encrypted, but modulated
directly over the line.  Like a MoDem, back in the dial-up days, moreso
than a modern Stream.  The network had been upgraded to digital, but they
didn't pull the copper out of the ground.  No way to trace it, either,
probably another splice somewhere else along the line.  I'm guessing before
it got to the hub where I picked it up.

   It could take weeks to walk all of it, and find the splice but she said
no cops, and being a tweaker, I could guess why.  Criminal record, I loaned
her some shorts, and a tee-shirt, but it looks like she preferred to sleep
in the nude.

   Too skinny, she looked kind of like, IDK Jennifer Aniston?  Only
skinnier, like Topher Grace skinny, no tits but the skin hanging down. 
Boney back, I could feel ribs under my arm, and the blanket, no butt.  She
hugged her legs under the covers, but I got up hard, anyway.  She was just
crying herself to sleep, and I didn't want her to feel it.

   She'd just been raped, Gang-raped, and I got no idea what that's like. I
felt kind of bad, jerking off to it, but it was playing on my eyelids.  I
couldn't get it out of my head, just remembered dreaming it when she woke
me up, screaming.  It helped to have the audio-off.  Piggybacked, Amplitude
Modulated on the video-carrier.

   Can't really understand him, at all.  How could anyone be that hateful,
and hide it well enough to exist in society?  I mean, this was college
level at least, Whistler, or Phantom Phreak kind of slicing.  {Sneakers,
and Hackers, respectively.} How could he work, and do business while hiding
what a monsterous animal he was?  That's one hell of a closet.

   The other guy, his friend was more gentle.  He obviously didn't want to
hurt her, I guess he got caught up in the scene?  I could kind-of
sympathize, on account of I can't get the images out of my head.  Maybe I
could edit, take out the sodomy, cuffs, cries, and the pain so visible on
her face.  If I had any idea what pleasure looked like on her face, or even
what her smile looks like.  I bet she has a pretty smile.

   She came in, naked, and pissed, so I let her have the shower.  I smelled
her, over the urine, but it wasn't as bad as I expected.  Someone locked up
for 72 hours, and tortured with nothing but a wipe with a wet-nap.  I could
smell her, at least I think I could through all that, and all the soap in
the room.  I needed to think, so I sat down to write.

   Sarah {f Solo NS Trig}

   I ran out of hot water, but just curled up in the back of the tub.  And
shivered, and cried, I knew I wasn't going to get cleaner, and that made me
think of twack, and I wanted a hit so bad.  Yeah, think about that, and
what I'd have to do to get it.

   Nice place.  I didn't think about it, but he had to make money, somehow,
at the Phone Company.  Not like Rich rich, but I bet he had valuables just
lying around.  Dusty ones he wouldn't miss, out in the garage, or
something. Did I know anyone who could fence all these electronics?  I
think the restroom's the only one I seen without a computer in it.

   2 bedroom, I think.  Suburban, no stairs, I tried to remember.  Any
Valuables?  I got out, and grabbed a towel.  He was on the computer in the
bedroom when I came out.  Towel tucked between my tits, like a mini-dress.
I saw the room, and looked away, so he closed it down.

   "Sorry," he got up, and rubbed his hand onh is pants.  "It might be good
evidence, if you change your mind about the cops."

   I don't want to go back to jail.  "You got any clothes for me?"

   "Uh," he turned to the other door, "Yeah."

   All those computers, like a room-full of them!  "Nice place."

   "Please don't rob me." He said it, like.  I don't know how he ment it.
"Ah!" He pulled out a belt.  His jeans were real baggy on me, and I had to
pick the drawstrings out on the shorts, but I got them to hang on my
hipbones.

   "Could you get me a razor?" I scratched at my leg.

   "Here," he handed me a shirt, and finally turned around when I pulled it
on.

   "Thanks."

   "Uh," he went around me, "You hungry?" He stepped out of the like square
of hall.

   I thought about it, "Not yet," eating.  "You got any coffee?" He nodded
at the window, and started the water.  Setting down a steel pot, he pushed
a switch with his thumb, and it lit up.

   "French roast," he held out, "Or Kona?"

   I shrugged, and sat down.  Big flat screen, I could probably sleep on.
He ground coffee behind me.  Kind-of a little den, boards halfway up the
high walls, roof shaped cieling, a couple steps up to the kitchen, and a
little bar there.  "Here you go," he poured out of a little pitcher, like
glass, but with a handle strapped to it in steel.

   It looked kind of medical, up there.  In the kitchen, square island in
the middle, scrubbed steel everywhere, or maybe a restraunt kitchen.  You
could scrub that place clean, in under an hour.  Not that he let it get
dirty, I felt like a dirty tweeker just sitting around in there.  On this
like leggo couch?  It was all in blocks, 2 of them pushed together, another
one in the corner, by the door with a padded square in front of it.

   He came down, "Got any smokes?" shook his head.  "Where's my jacket?" He
pulled it out of the hall closet, poured me another cup.  "Got a lighter?"
He got one from the fireplace.  "Mmh!"

   "Can you take that out back?" he opened the door, and there was a muddy
little square of concrete there.  With a couple steps up, everything
melted, and ran down, but it wasn't flooding or nothing.  Weird how the
front door is by the kitchen, and the back down in the den, it felt
backwards.

   Big yard, or rather small house, I guess it was as big as anybody's. 
Houses, yards, all squares with fences to block them off.  No dogs, out in
this weather.  It wasn't really cold, but I looked up at the orange clouds,
shining back over the city.  No traffic noise, it was quite.  Almost to
quiet.

   "Oh!" he grabbed a towel, "Here." Handed it down over the bar.  "Um,
have you thought about, what you're going to do?"

   "Oh yeah," there's the door.

   "I mean," He sat down, and dried off my foot.  "Do you even want to get
clean?" so I stood, and my heart thumped for some tweek.  "Over here," he
put my foot down, and turned the towel inside-out to wash the other one. 
"You know the first step is,"

   "I know it's a problem!" I stepped over him.  "You have no idea," I
rubbed my face "how much a problem.  But, I just want, to feel better, you
know, I." Fell over on the couch, grabbed his pillow, and hugged it.

   "I'm sorry," he came over, "I do know this must be hard for you, and I
don't want to rush you, but I just don't think curling up around the needle
is a good plan, neither." I closed my eyes, but thought of stabbing him
instead.  In the nipples, why didn't I do that when I had the chance?  I
had the needles, but it all raged out of control so fast, and I couldn't
keep up.

   He sat on the corner, rubbed like the side of my foot, or the top of it,
up on the couch.  He flinched when I swung up, kicked my legs around, and
grabbed his arm.  "Can you hold me?" The shirt felt dry, on my poor
nipples, and I felt one leak a little with a painful jerk.  "Ah!" I jerked
my arm away from where I brushed it.  "Ow!  No, that was me.  Sorry if I
make you uncomfortable," I looked down, "But I can't, I don't want to be
alone right now." I settled in his lap.  "Okay?"

   "Okay." He hugged my arms.

   "But if you want to help," I sighed, "I need a place to lay low until
the heat dies down.  I mean, I'm going to be a bitch.  Let me get that out
of the way it fucking hurts, and I can be pretty nasty when I hurt."

   "I know," He hugged my arms.  Feeling up one, he holds onto my elbow. 
"I'm, pathologically incapable of violence.  No, really!  I manage to hide
long, and well enough to avoid it, but I can't even fight back."

   "So yuo're bullied." I guessed.  Doesn't take long once they find the
best victims.  I choked up a little, "Hough!" He screwed up his face when I
swallowed it.

   "I can't have sex, either." He nodded.  "I mean, I tried, a few times,
went through the motions, there was even a prostitute." He laughed.  "Huh,
I uh.  I guess I ruined it jerking off, with porn.  I found it real young,
and avoided anything else for years, even after I grew up.  I'm not real
good at talking to women neither."

   "No," I rubbed his hand, "Your doing fine."

   "Huh," he laughed, "What're the odds?"

   "Idaknow," I shrugged.  Started getting hot, and sweaty even, so I got
up.  "Um, could you get me a razor?"

   "You want to come?" I shrank back, "Or you want to be alone right now?"

   "I don't want," I thought.  "I don't want to go back out there, again,
yet." See people, strangers out heer and, maybe hustle some cash, and, "I
feel safe here, all right?"

   "Sure," he grabbed his coat from the hall closet, "I understand." and
left.

   Dale {M Solo, NS}

   I had to stop by Trader Joes on the way home.  Less than 3 days to drink
all my coffee.  I don't have to work from home, and she needs the privacy,
or time to herself.  She finished writing it, all of it, and I read the
last part at the desk they found me.  (Chapter 1, Substation.)

   That last part, after having to come back from the shopping trip, and
sacrificing her friend like that.  Or room-mate, I don't know anything
about inner-city tweaker life.  Living with a prostitute, I know she was
raped too, but how much of it was rape?  Like that's quantifiable.

   Whatever, she's curled up on the chair when I get home.  Down in the
den, I agree it's more den-like.  "What you bring?" I split a bag between 2
bowls, and nuked them together.

   [:90] "Hows," I handed her the bag, "Tuscan Chicken, Farfalle' sound?"
She shrugged, and threw it out for me in the can on the stair.  1 step
between floors.
She had cheeks, already.  Not round, but at least flat, not sunken in
almost to the teeth.  "I still got everything?" She scoffed.  It all looked
still neat, and tidy.  "Okay, I have a little Obsessive Compulsive
Personality {Robocop} but I keep it from interfering with my life.  If

anything, it helps me be focused, and thorough in my work."

   She laughed, and hit my arm.  The Micro beeped, so I turned the bowls'
inside-to-out, and gave them another sesqueminute.  "How you feeling?"

   "Better every day," she tried not to cry, "Right?"

   "It'll take,"

   "Time, I know." If this is her slowed down, I have to wonder what she's
like spun all the way out on tweak.  That's what she calls it.  She hugged
me until the food beeped, so we curled up in the couch in the den. 
"Watched a lot of TV," she turned it off, "Chick flix, gave me something
else to cry about." She snuggled against me, and I didn't even get hard. 
It's not sexual between us.  Can't be, for so many reasons, on both sides,
but that's no reason to avoid a relationship.

   As if I ever needed another.

   I got out my phone to type this up.  She fell asleep, on my arm.  It
didn't feel, I don't know, wrong.  You people don't have words for the
terror you put me through, what it's like, going back to the office for a
real shift.  Don't be too productive there, let them think about making it
more than temporary, but.

   I don't know, I like her.  I really do, I mean she's broken.  Not like
me, but in a different way that somehow, fits us together.  I don't need
sex, the last thing she needs right now, but maybe when she does..?

   She needs time to heal, but when she does,

   Maybe?..

   "I was on the news," she got up when I tried to pull my arm out.

   "I heard," Dempsey, never would have guessed.  "They're calling you a
Potential Witness, but I don't know what that means."

   "Suspect?" I shrugged, "Trixy came forward, and I don't know if she's
trying to lure me out, or." She followed me up, so I washed out the bowls,
and tucked them away, up-side down to drain.  No dishwasher, so I just
don't let them pile up.

   I shrugged back, "I finished up the video too, but I don't know how to
send it.  Can't really hack video anyway, I mean I have the programs, but
I'm still learning them..." Good, she rolled her eyes boredly.  I learned a
good way to snap her out of it, when she gets all hurt is to give her
something else to think about, or not think about.

   "The bruises are gone," she pulled up the side of my shirt to show me.
"I think.  I mean I remember, but I think the real hurt is gone." She poked
at it.  Up high, where he held her so tight it left marks.  "Even down
here," she pushed down the front of my sweat-pants, "See?" I looked away,
but saw she had been using the razor I gave her.  She doesn't like the
disposables, but I guess I can understand her being sensitive there.  There
were even little prickle marks from razor rash.  "It's okay," she sighed,
"It's not sexual." Her fingers felt warm on the back of my hand.

   "Come on!" she hugged me, "I feel better, and I'm off the, drugs, and I
just want to feel something..." Her voice went down to a whisper while she
turns me around so that I could just feel the warmth of her breath on my
face.  I closed her eyes, and felt her lips on mine, so I just stood there.
She pulled my hand up, to her side, and rubbed it around on her hip.

   I stepped back, "Woah!" Caught myself on the pass-through, and knocked
the trashcan over.  "I," got down, and started picking it up.  My face
burned, so I stopped trying to make that a sentence.

   "Oh," she hopped down, "maybe I can help you with your problem.  Your,
sex, problem?"

   "It's not a problem," I shrugged her hand away, "I just, I don't like
being touched."

   "Where you?" She wondered.

   "You mean molested?" I looked up, "No!  God, that's.  Eough!" I threw
the bag I was using to pick it up in, and went up to wash my hands.  Dawn,
drys them out if I forget to moisturize, but I had better things to worry
about.  Not as bad as hand-sanitizer, but I took a couple pumps of that
after I dried my hands.

   "But you cuddle with me," she pouted, "So I know you can do it, if it's
important enough." She sighed, "I, if I can help you out, in any way, I
wanna.  I mean, you done so much for me, and I love you." She covered her
mouth.  "For it.  I mean." She just stopped.  And blushed.

   "I," didn't know what to say.  "It's not like I never tried." I sat
down. "First of all, it's just, gross.  I mean all the squishy nasty, uh!"
I shook my hands, and sat down, again.  "Even just kissing, that's like,
okay." I squeezed my eyes shut, "You know that's the most infected part of
the body?"

   "So germs." She sighed.  Must be the chair, across from me.

   "That's part of it," I looked at her, "I mean, but it's people.  Just
people, everyone, I can't.  I just can't, even."

   "But you can look at porn?" Rule #34B is I've seen it all.

   Okay, that's a joke, but you get the idea.  "Well yeah," I spread my
hands, "But that's detached, sterile.  I don't even have to make myself a
part of it." Why I like lesbians.

   "And you play with yourself?" She leaned back, and spread her legs.  In
sweat-pants, mind you.  Not that bad.  I nodded, of course I do.  "You like
to watch, girls touch ourselfs?"

   "Okay, yeah.  I'm a bit of a voyeur, TBPH, but you know those guys that
can't pee with anyone in the room?" She shook her head, "Like Rob Lowe, or
painfully awkward Rob Lowe.  That's what I'm saying, I can't even get it up
with you watching.

   "I won't look, then." She got up, and pushed down her pants.  "Imagine
like a screen, a computer between us if that helps." She sat down, closed
her eyes, and pulled the shirt off.  I got up, closed the drapes, and
turned off the lights.  "Nhm!" she was loud enough to hear all the way in
the bathroom.

   Just the light over the sink shone down, but there was a cabinet and the
bar between it and her.  She sighed, hands between her legs, and twisted
down in the chair.  Feet up on the ottoman, I rolled it up to form a
chaise, and sat down.

   She moaned a little.  Quiet, but it sounded like there was almost an
echo in the lofted room.  Another sigh, and I watched her.  Squirming.  Her
boobs looked, fuller, I guess.  Not like just empty bags of skin, there was
enough more in them so they weren't totally flat, but they weren't close to
full yet.  She felt one, pushed the ring through it, then turned it back
again.

   I could smell her.  Just her, I guess I got used to the soap, and
sanitizer residue on my hands, febreezed cushions.  "Hnh!" I looked up at
her face, and it was red.  Her mouth looked like she put lipstick on them,
and not the usual thin slash I was used to.  She smiled, I shook my head.
Was that, really the first time I saw it, her real smile?"

   I rubbed it, hard in my pants, and decided to try it.  Getting it out, I
had to put a barrier up to touch it.  Like she said, imagine the screen in
front of me.  Like I didn't have that image burned into my retinas that'd
never been degaussed.  I wonder, if there's something you can do like that
for your eyes.  Repair the scars of looking at something bright, for hours
on end?

   "Sarah.  No, don't open your eyes." She closed them again, "I uh.  I
mean what, do you think about.  When you..?"

   "Hnh, I don't know." She sounded like she just woke up, stretched
sensually, and pulled her fingers up.  Above her, between her legs, I could
smell it, and my heart pounded.  Pulled tight between her fingertips, she
rubbed them around, and I closed my eyes.

   "Oh, uh!" My god, it was right there, in front of me, and I can't
remember coming that hard.  Or ever with someone there, to see it, hear me
grunt, trying to hold my breath.  What's the opposite of an exhibitionist?
I don't know, I mean, I don't even want them, anyone to even hear me.  I
felt so ashamed.

   "Oh, it's okay, I mean good." She rubbed my shoulder, "you did good." I
shrank back when she sat down.  "You did good," held me, in my lap.  Naked,
okay she still had socks on.  "It's okay," she petted my hair.  Why did I
start crying?  "It's all good, nothing to be ashamed of." She held my head,
in both hands, in front of her.  She didn't say anything, just kissed my
cheek when I turned away.  "Sorry," she kissed my eye, and patted the back
of my head.  I squirmed when she pinched the latex tube, and stripped it
off of me.

   I had to get up, to wash my hands, and face, and brush my teeth, and
wound up in the shower...

   Sarah {FM...}

   I took him to bed.  "To sleep!" I insisted, and he tried to say
something about not being able to sleep with someone, even asleep.  "Why
not?" He held my arms, the rest of him under the covers, but he always had
the heat on.

   "I don't know," he sighed, "How you, uh normal people." He shook his
head behind me, "How you can look at each other and just see a face, or
their outfit.  I guess I know too much, and I can't forget, not think about
what you are, how you all really are.  We're just like, bags of skin, and
all the stuff," he gulped, and took a breath, "You know by cell-count we're
less than half human?" I guess he saw me shake my head, "It's all
backteria, not counting viree, which are more like letters than living
things."

   I guess he never did, all the times I fell asleep in his arms, and legs,
he always got up.  He never touched me, unless I started screaming, or
crying, then he was there.  Almost like a mother, or the brother I never
had.

   You went back out, to the couch as soon as you thought I fell asleep. 
It's okay, I don't understand, but at least it's not because I'm a skinny
little tweeker.  It doesn't make me feel ugly any more, too dirty.  I got
that much from that talk.  But maybe, if you could just not be so
uncomfterble.  Take your time, but if theer's a chance we can work at it,
until you don't have to leave me.

   Alone, I always hated sleeping alone.

   I mean, you're not really like a man.  Don't take this the wrong way,
but it's like you gave up.  Even trying, it's all just "I can't" do this or
you can't do that, but how do you even know, really?  If you don't try, I'm
sure you don't want, that whole wife, and kids TV famliy, or whatever, but
I love you.  I said it, and I ment it, I only met you like a week ago, but
that doesn't matter, I spent years just looking for people to not hurt me,
and your the first.

   The first real man, I ever met who didn't want to hurt me.  You want to
not hurt me, keep anyone from hurting, and I love that.  But that's not all
I love about you.  I don't know, all of it, like you said are there even
words?  Even your fussy neat freakiness.  It's kind of cute, and it's not
like something can be too clean really, am I rite?

   If you can fit me in your neat little life, I mean.  That would be
great, even if it doesn't fix ether of us, or all the way.  It's a okay
crazy, the kind of crazy I need right now, I think.  It's not about the sex
thing, I don't raelly need sex, really.  Or I can do without, I hope, but I
want to.  I really love you, and whenever we talk, or you just hold me, I
really just want to show you how much.

   Dale {MF Hand}

   I read her message in the parking lot.  Her spelling bugged me, but I
couldn't edit it.  Especially how she repeated words, she misspelled, only
spelled correctly, then my pattern-recognition kicked in.  Must be mildly
dyslexic, with corrective habits, like spelling words with compound vowels
EE instead of IE, or EI, and correcting them the second time instead of
going back to edit them.

   Closed on sunday, not much traffic, everyone already headded back from
lunch.  She picked up E-mail, on the other home computer I set up as a
terminal with an AOL account.  Not that there's still a company, in any
competitive sense, but the network is still there.  Nothing dies on the
internet.

   She surfs porn, too, looked like the Bang-Bus last time.  I kind-of have
to wonder how she sees it, what she feels watching it, and touching
herself? She wasn't just an image, on a screen.  A .VID file, or page
address for the gallery.  Pro-tip, don't download anything, just stream it
live over the network, with proper precautions to safeguard your system.

   I caught my breath, got out, put on my hardhat, carried the harness, and
threw out a fast food bag with a cup in it.  7 napkins, 5 ketchup packets,
2 of them used, a fry carton, and the burger wrapper.  A #1 if anyone
bothered to check, or frequented that place.  Pretty good, I belched as
loud as I could.  I didn't look around for any witnesses, just stayed in
character, untangled the harness, strapped on the spurs, clipped on the
belt, and breathed deep for what I had to do.

   I haven't walked lines in nearly a decade and a half.  I probably
wouldn't even be able to do the kids' jobs nowadays, but it's not like they
took out the whole system.  Some of the wiring was repurposed, the switch
boxes retrofitted, or replaced, but I still had a direct line from the
company hub to the remains of the substation.  To an untrained eye, the
waterproofed case looked like another box where the tree branched out to
insulators on either end.  Signal, and power, isolated, a few feet away.

   What was it like for her?  The Love?  She said she loved me, and I'm the
opposite of an expert, but it can't happen that fast.  Right?  3 days, 7
and a half hours, she blurted it out before, but she'd been through so
much. I can't even.  No idea what she was like before she appeared on
camera, tumbled down the stairs, and I think she caught her shoulder on the
eyebolt tap-conned into the middle of the floor.

   I can't understand him, maybe on a technical level, while I unclipped
the latches, broke the seal, pulled out the circuit board, and unscrewed
the case from the pole.  Pretty clean, outside, exposed to the elements. 
Fingerprints another good reason to put up with these bulky gloves, if
anyone tracked the line this far.  Silicone around the wiring, on the
underside, looked like.  I followed them to the signal branch, didn't have
to climb out on the arm, good.

   Nice connections, stripped, crimped, and socketed for branch connections
instead of twisted, taped, and capped pairs.  I got out the handset, and
listened to nothing.  No dial-tone, nor even static, dead.  So, I didn't
have to worry about anyone calling in an interrupt, on their cell-phone.  A
few houses here probably still have the old landline, if they didn't chose
the DSL upgrade, or get wired to the new fiber-optics.  Still changing over
to a fully digital system.  Pulling out all the copper will likely be the
last of it.

   She called, just to listen to me breathe.  I waited until I heard her
fall asleep, hung up, and climbed down.  I wonder if they even discovered
the Hardline yet?  The cops, I mean.  I should probably look up the news
when I take the truck back.

   Sarah {F Solo Pica}

   I woke up, crying, alone.  "No," I shook it out of my head, "that's his
fantasy." He was gone, but left me some coffee.  I unscrewed the little
ball on the end, took off the cap, and drank it cold right out of the
pitcher.  It's like 2 cups with the grounds pushed down to the bottom.

   Not what I wanted, I always feended the worsed when I wake up.  From the
nitemare, I looked around.  Not for anything to steel, but whatever. 
Something I never seen yet, I don't know were to look in his office, but he
has everything shut down, unplugged to "Isolate" it.

   Virises, I'm guessing.  The guy jerks off in a rubber, that's how bad he
got it.  Poor Dale, I guess I deserved a loser, but that's what makes him,
so.  I don't know, he won't fight for me, and I don't know if he'll ever
like me.  Find me attractive, want to.

   I can't beleive all that babbling about love.  I mean, I remember lying,
right to his face, but I was needing.  Not even horny, just willing to say
anything for a fix, something to feel besieds this hunger.  I kind-of
wandered around, he locked the office, and shut down his machines, but the
bathroom locked on the inside.  And he had these shelfs, with a lot of
plastic bins, and draws in it.

   There was this, thing.  Like a flat little box, with hinges on one side,
and little plastic balls that stuck together like the ones in the ends of
my rings.  I got these, for me.  He thought it was for him, but that was
about the time I was taking Control.  That's what it's about, right? 
Control instead of sex?  Or pain?

   IDFK, it hurts, but it's my pain, not for anyone else.  The scabs are
starting to fall off, and the rings aren't sticking to my skin, as bad, any
more.  I wasn't bleeding no more.  But why did he have these picks?  Like
in the dentists office, little bent ones, some curved like a question mark,
and 1 straight one, with a blue handle.  I rolled it in my fingers, the tip
felt real sharp.

   I took a shower, not that kind of shower, but it's better feeling horny
then hurt.  Take my word for it, I don't want Rape, I want Sex.  To make
love, if I can work that out, I sighed, and wondered why I filled the tub.
Shrugging, it's easier to do my legs, I guess I can stand up on my knees to
get in front, and the pimples were starting to heal so they won't get cut
off.

   I sighed, and felt the stubble twicth, catching the blade.  I had to get
up, put my foot up on the side, but it felt smoothe nough in front.  "Ah!"
I nicked my lip, and bent over to swish the blood out in the water.  I blew
out my nose, but felt, clean enough.

   I do it for him, really.  I figure with his issues, he want's everything
neat, and tidy.  In front of the mirror, I lift my arm, and get under it.
The other one's trickier, I could never hit my right, and why did I have to
go and think about that?  Just scrape away the stubble, don't worry about
how they itch in my skin when they touch the edge.

   The track marks were hard, like little rocks in my skin.  I picked up my
tits, looked, and felt under them.  The little lines where I hid the
needles were closed, didn't even hurt to poke them.  The boiler was done,
and still hot, so I ground up some Kona, got out a cup, and the sugar.  I
don't know why I brought that little spike.

   I wasn't expecting to be attacked, or having to fight them off, but I
walked around with it in my fist.  I stuck it in the cutting board, went
down for the pitcher, washed it out, and put it back together to punch down
the grounds.  I reely had to pull the spike out, hold the board down, and
it was pretty stuck.  My heart raced with adrenalene when it jerked out.

   Okay, so another violent fantasy.  I have them, not all the time, but
even before, all that happened.  Sometimes I just want to punch someone in
the face, you know?  It might be something they said, or I just, you know,
want someone to hit.

   I couldn't hit him, he wouldn't let me, but while I had him tied down
with the cable.  No, this is my new fantasy, what if I could get him on the
bed?  Handcuffs, not those laether straps he used, but.  Stab him, in the
heart, right through the middle of his chest and, "Ow!"

   I jerked my hand back, and dropped the pick.  God, I guess it's a good
thing that Dale isn't an ice-pick kinda guy!  I rubbed the spot, it felt
like a sting, and a little seeped out to stick to my finger.  I didn't feel
like, playing with myself any more.

   It hurt, but I got a little rush, of dopamene, I guess.  It wasn't the
same, but I couldn't even think about pulling a belt tight on my arm again.
Not the buzz, without any ice in it, the needle wasn't even hollow, but I
rubbed the little ball on the end with my thumb, like a plunger.

   So, back to crying, I guess.

   Dale {MF...}

   "What's the worst thing you ever done?" She cuddled up behind me on the
couch.  She wanted to watch some porn, it was just skinemax, but I just
closed my eyes.

   "Nothing," she scoffed, "You know I never really Do anything, but I
guess." I thought, "There was this one time, I broke into this girl's
house. Okay, a couple times, but the last time she was there.  Asleep,
alone, I was just a kid, and her parents went off to work.  I stayed up all
night watching her, and I hid up on the roof when they left.  So, I broke
in." I sighed, but she hugged me.  "I just stood there, watching her sleep,
and listened to her breathe.  I wanted to touch her, but I was so scared,
and.  Oh stop." I pulled her hand out, because it was starting to wander, a
little too deep.  Between my legs, and I.  I stopped her as soon as I knew
where she was going.

   "What?" She hugged my leg.  "I mean, was she pretty?"

   "Of course," she sighed.  Why else would someone, be interested in..?

   "You stalked her."

   "No!" I mean, "She went to my school, and I thought I was in love with
her, so I just wanted to see her." Find where she lived, break in, and
smell her shampoo, look in her underwear drawer...  "She used Tide." I
sniffed.  "So yeah," I guess, "The worst thing I did was stalk a girl, in
9th grade.  But it was so terrifying I never even thought about doing it
again." Just jerked off, thinking about it for months.

   "But you done a lot of peeping?"

   I got up, back feeling all sweaty.  "You want a drink, or something?"

   "A fuck would be nice," she muttered, and followed me up.  "Well maybe
that's a good fantasy for you.  And me, here, you got a yard, and some
windows." She pulled out the drawer, and plucked a couple gloves out of the
box.  "You could stalk me here, if you think that might get you in the
mood." She turned, patted the front of my pants, and winked.  Through the
gloves, I thought about pulling back, but didn't.

   I looked down at the living room.  "Uh," I closed my eyes, and turned
back.  She felt around, and rubbed the side of my bottom.  "I."

   "Shshsh," she sissorated in my ear.  "You like to look," she whispered,
"Watch?" She kissed it.  "Don't you ever wonder, what skin tastes like?"
Licked my neck.

   "Uh no," I backed up, but she held my belt, pulled me around, and
followed me.  Back into the corner of the cabinet, and the bar.  "Stop,
please.  You know this makes me uncomfortable."

   "It doesn't hurt," she reached up, "Though." and closed my eyes with her
finger tips.  "It's just not as detached, sterile you called it?" I nodded
silently.  Eyes closed, trying not to smell her, or her breath.  "It's all
right," she held me with one arm, but I felt he feel down between us.  "I
won't hurt you, I promise not to hurt you."

   "Uh," I could feel the latex through my shorts.  Inside my pants, but
not touching me.  God it felt good, her hard thin fingers, boney, but
rubbing gently.  Her breath, I didn't want to breathe it, so I blew it
away. "Whew!" I took a breath of cool air before it was pushed away.

   "Come on," she pulled my arm, and her hand out of my pants.  "Sit down.
Clean hand," she held up the glove, and smiled, "Dirty hand." Her bare
fingers waved.  She dropped one of mine, "Here, put this on." And held the
other.

   I took the glove, and looked down.  Carefully, I stretched it on,
squeezed the air out, all the bubbles from between my fingers, then the
blister in my palm until it pushed out at my wrist.  Looking up, she
already had her shirt off.  I got up, but she took my gloved hand, and I
closed my eyes again.

   "It's okay," felt weird, "I want you to touch me.  I want your hand on
me, don't be ashamed." Soft, it rolled around inside the skin, and I felt
her nipple brush the side of my hand.  Through the glove, I focused on
that, and tried to breathe.  It wasn't a panic attack, yet, but I sure felt
the anxiety building.

   "It feels," I couldn't find the word.  Weird wasn't good enough, it was
something I never wanted to feel before, except back when I had
expectations of normalcy.  I tried to think back, to when I learned that
guys want to look at tits, and feel them, maybe...  "Ugh." No, not ready to
think about that yet.

   "See?" She felt the front of my pants again, "That's not too bad." I
felt the other side in my other hand, her thin hard fingers around my
wrists.

   "Okay?" Maybe just a little.  I mean, I tried to focus more on that, the
curiosity over the anxiety before it completely overwhelms me.  Band-pass,
just clip it down to, the feelings I want to feel.  Cut out all the noise
so the signal can get through, and maybe I can enjoy it.  "It feels okay, I
guess."

   "Good," my zipper clicked slowly down, and she rubbed inside again. 
Through my shorts again.  She sighed, and ran my glove down, rubbed it over
her ribs, and side, and midriff to the top of my flannel pajama pants.

   "You want to go shopping?  You really need some clothes, of your owm."

   She covered my mouth, "Shhhh," she whispered, "Maybe later." She got the
glove down her waistband.  "I just took a shower," she whispered, "Got
myself nice, and clean for you.  Inside, and out." I felt her.  No
underwear, just the gloves, and maybe a bump, or two from her razor rash.

   I expected bone, like her pubic bone, that's what they call it.  Um,
right.  Pubis Mons.  The little, fat?  Was it really, I mean it was only a
week and a half, or so, but had she really eaten so much?  Her belly was
flat, at least, not caved in as much, I couldn't see where her ribs ended
with her, breast hanging down.  How much shopping had I done?  I must have
been wandering in a daze, when in fact I had gone out 3 times already, and
bought half again what I usually get in a month, each time.  It was just so
slow I never realized, recognized the point where she was no longer too
skinny.

   Take this breasts, for example.  Not perky, by any stretch of the
imagination, but had filled enough volume at least for some roundness to
it. Not just hanging flat, just a little thicker at the bottom than the
first time I was able to just look at them.  It was like she was growing
them, right in front of me, and I just hadn't noticed.

   The glove warmed around my other hand, and started feeling clammy.  And
wetness, through it.  A slickness to her flesh instead of being as dry as
I'd felt just seconds ago.  "Nyeah," she sighed, "There, right there." She
pushed my fingertip up to the top, so I felt around.

   "Clitorus." You know, it's a funny word.  Kind of clinical, and
titillating at the same time.

   "Uh huh?" She ment, "Mhm, just uh, rub it.  Not too, nhm!  Hah, yeah. 
Just..."

   I got the memo, and kept rubbing.  So intently on that, and her breast
in my bare hand, I forgot about hers.  I mean I was touching her, her
chest. Directly, skin on skin, I could feel her, what are those?  Like
scars, almost, all around the bottoms, and sides, radiating from the rings,
hanging in front like door knockers.  I snorted, a little.  I can feel
them, but I can't see them.  It felt so weird.  The tiny bead rolled in the
ends of the ring, like points, clamping it almost loosely between them.

   "ahahahah." Not like a laugh, but a breathy whisper.  I'm not sure she
even heard it, just took another shallow breath.  "You can do this, see? 
It's not too bad, nothing to be afraid of, you just overthink it.  Don't
overthink it, get out of your head, spend a little time with your heart,
and feel something.  What's the point of living if we can't feel anything?"

   I felt something, hard like a bone where there shouldn't be.  Not like
the ring in her nipple, but under it, short, round, like scar tissue.  I
let go, and pushed her back.  The ottoman rolled under her.  "Sorry," I
held up my hand, "I'm sorry, but I need a break, or something." I got up,
went up to the bathroom, jerked off quick with the soap while the water
warmed up, and got in.

   "But that was." I told myself, "That wasn't so bad." I touched her, I
really did, and I could actually like the way it felt.  Now if I just don't
get sick, make this nausea go away.  I licked the back of my hand before I
thought about it.

   "Dale," she was waiting in the hall, "I'm pretty tired." She took my
hand, "Can you come and put me to sleep?" She has nightmares, sleeping
alone.  Couldn't fall asleep without flashing back to that filthy cot.  If
I couldn't keep her from waking up, sobbing at night, at least I can help
her sleep.

   She got undressed, sometimes she'd come out wearing just a towel around
her hair.  Even though she knows, and I make sure there's a stack of them.
Or I came home, from finding the splice to her just wandering around, or
watching the food channel, naked.  She's so cold, she gets hot, and sweaty
so easily, even this late in the winter.  The snow didn't come back, but I
could hear the rain.

   And her breath, was she almost out?  Or pretending to sleep, she does
that sometimes.  I better wait for her to start snoring tonight.  She faked
that too, or tried to, but she doesn't know what she sounds like, in her
sleep.  She warmed up, though, and I don't guess she felt as boney, any
more.  Still no ass to speak of, I saw the gap between her thighs once,
before I looked away.

   She smelled smokey, but I was starting not to mind.  It's not, too bad a
smell, sterile, I guess.  It clung to her hair.  I could smell her too, but
now it didn't stink to me.  I mean, IDKWIM.

   Sarah {MF...}

   I didn't wake up screaming.  I didn't even cry, don't remember whether I
was dreaming anything, it flew right out my head when I felt him.  His arm
under my hair, the sweaty warmth wrapped around my back, his heavy arm, on
top of mine.  I cuddled closer, and pulled on it, but he didn't wake up.  I
felt it, behind me.  Hard on the back of my leg, almost pushing in the
bottom of my butt.

   Even turning over didn't wake him up, so I kissed him, and felt down in
his shorts.  The drawstrings, I pulled those out first, and reached in to
feel his warm hardness.  I giggled a little.  Warming up all ready, I
pulled the cover up over his shuolder so he didn't feel cold.  Maybe he
wouldn't wake up, and I could jerk him off, under the covers.  She started
snoring, a little, but I didn't mind.

   Then he stopped.  "Sarah?" He blindly felt for my face, and rubbed my
hair away from it.

   "It's all right," I whispered, "I'm not going to hurt you." I gave him a
little tug, and a half.  He got up.

   "I know." I sat up.  "I don't know if it's the worst thing you ever
done, but I'm not stupid, and I don't want a secret between us."

   "What're you talking about?" He picked up his robe, and unfolded it.

   I sighed, "You remember when I got here, and you decoded the signal in
like, 17 and a half minutes?" Everything was and-a-half for him, or
"Sesqua" he calls it.  It's almost like, a superstition for him?  "Now I'm
not a tech, I don't even know what all I don't know about tech, but nobody,
I can't beleive it's that quick, and easy, the way you make it sound, with
the modulating, and the demodulating, and."

   "All right," he held up his hand, and went out to the bathroom.  His
computers had the big bedroom, with a door to it, but you had to go out to
the hall from here.  "What are you saying?" I got up, and leaned on the
door.

   "What exactly do you do for the phone company, again?" He called it
Troubleshooting, a Contractor.  "Never mind, alls I'm saying is if you
didn't set up that place at the substation, I bet you know who did."

   He sighed, and washed his hands, so I just stood in the door, and put my
hands up on my chest.  He won't push me out of the way, he'd have to touch
me, naked, but at least he can look at me now.

   He turned to pull down a towel, unfold it, and dry his hand.  "Yeah.  I
just didn't."

   "You couldn't bring it up yourself." I nodded, "I understand that." I
reached out, and touched the back of his robe.  "It's okay, but I really
want, I need to know what you know."

   "Huh.  Okay fine!  Can you let me outta here?" He looked scared, like
the terror that flashed across my face whenever he saw me naked.  Or used
to.  "I don't know his name," he followed me out, and down to the den.  It
wasn't too cold a night, so I didn't even grab a blanket.  "I never even
met him, IRL, but we got together online through some of my Undernet
friends."

   "What kind of friends?"

   He sighed, "It's like the Internet," that I don't know that good, "but
Underground.  It's own system of MoDems, and BBS machines for sharing stuff
you don't want to share over the internet.  Usually because it's illegal.
Everything from copies of moves they haven't even finished cutting yet to
gamecheats, hacker programs, and of course Porn.

   That's how I got into it," he told me.  "Kind of esclated, watching more
and sicker kinds of porn, in a subcocnsious attempt to find out what kind
of kinky fetish I had." He shrugged, "I guess.  What might actually turn me
on, when really I's just fascinated by sex because it's so alien to me."
The way he says it, anyway.

   "I didn't know." He started to cry, "But yeah, that's got to be the
worst thing I ever done.  I should have, I told myself it was all just
acting, very convincing, but I let them lie to me.  There's plenty of that
out there too, rape fantasy, pseudo-snuff, that's what he said it was. 
Just nitch porn, I mostly just did signal proccesing on, but he had an idea
for a location, for a shoot.  He didn't tell me," he started to cry, "He
mis-represented himself as a Producer, but dropped off the systems right
about the time you burned the substation.  Maybe he was scared away, but I
think he's probably the same guy."

   It hurt to hear.  I knew it would, and I started crying to, but I didn't
go to comfort him.  I backed away, wanted to run screaming out to the night
when he got up, and started looking all huggy.  I sure didn't want a hug,
"Don't touch me!" Right then.

   "I'm sorry." He let his hands fall, and backed up.

   "I know," I slid down the wall to the kitchen floor, "But it really
hurts right now." I rubbed my eyes, and wiped my cheeks.  "It hurts to
much, and I.  I don't know if I want to see you right now."

   "I understand," he sat down, and put his hands together.

   "ShutUp!" I sobbed, "Just shut up right now." I was shaking.  "I don't.
Just leave me alone, I just want to be alone now." I went back to bed, but
couldn't sleep.  So I cried.  I want to forgive him, I don't want, this to
end.  To break us up, but god.  He didn't mean to, but his denial.

   It made him build the place where I was raped, and tortured.  I don't
know if I can look at him, smell him without thinking about it.  Getting
sucked back into that dark place, the terrifying cell I had inside me. 
Even as I tumbled down the steps to the floor, and heard the door crash
down over me.  The generator dying, the darkness, and the cold creeping in
to freeze me.

   I took the covers, all the covers, and wrapped them around me.  I
shivered, but the cold came from inside.  Just like I'd never be clean
again, I thought I'd never feel warm.  It wasn't the same, though, as
having him there to hold me.  So, I just did all I could do.  I just cried.

   Dale

   "Uh!" I reached up, and clicked to close the window.  "I didn't know
you're up."

   "Who was that?" She slapped me, "What is she like, 12?" She pushed me
out of the way, and I looked up to see the gallery I'd gotten the image
from.

   "14 uh," I sat up, and fixed my pants, "I think."

   "Don't look at this shit," she cleared it all, "That's like victimizing
her all over again."

   "Ab, that's an old picture," I tried.

   "Yeah, but she didn't just wake up from a nap one day and think 'gee, I
think I want to be a porn star when I grew up.' Somebody made her do it,
some men, probly." She turned, "Look, it's like, huh." she rolled her eyes,
"It's not like if I tell you it's all right to watch me finger myself
through the window, or jerk off watching me sleep from the door, but this
was done to her.  She didn't have no say in it, and if that gets you off."
She scoffed, and walked out.

   I was so shocked, I just rubbed my cheek a second or two.  "You hit me."
I got up.

   "Not hard," she slapped my arm, "Look, sorry, but what you did.  I don't
know how you couldn't know it's wrong, but now you do.  I mean really
really bad, I don't." She looked real mad.

   "I'm sorry." I put the groceries up, but she cooked.  She liked it, kind
of reminded her of her mom, she says, but she gets all these ideas from the
TV, and tries all these weird combinations.  I felt an urge to kiss her,
which gave me a panic attack, so I went, and washed my face in the
bathroom.

   I didn't throw up, but I had some nice lunchmeats, and lettuce, and
cheese if the seared tuna, and peppers didn't work out.

   She was turning them when I came back out.  "I broke one," she licked
her fingers, "Trying to flip it, but, uhm." I looked up from her hands, and
she turned to wash them in the sink, "It should be ready in a couple
minutes." Instead of watching over her shoulder, I went down to see if
there was any good movies to watch.  "I called a few restraunts," she wants
to go to work, "No openings in the back of the house." The kitchen, where
she doesn't have to be looked at by men.  "And I need to get another ID."
She had a meltdown, when that guy catcalled her, I had to hold her back.

   "Uh, I might need to go away," I said back, "Some business coming up."

   "Oh?" she leaned over the counter, so I looked up.

   "Yeah, overnight, nothing you want to hear about."

   "Such a shitty liar," she grabbed the plates, and came down.  Mashed
potatoes on the side.  Just there, next to the fish, on some cooked
peppers. Red, orange, and green strips with points on the ends, but nice,
and evenly cut.  I set it aside.

   "So what's up?" She chewed.

   "I'm," I sighed, "I've been looking into, what happened.  And you know,
the net is still up there.  People are still using it to abuse all those
girls, and, well I started to think, I'm in a pretty good position to track
it.  I mean you saw how the footage helped the investigation, I know a few
fax numbers I can send stuff to, from a pay-phone, so I started having
traces run on the numbers I know."

   "What for?" She stabbed through the fish, and held the flakes on her
fork with a couple strips of pepper.  I looked away from the pink center,
where she cut it, but my pieces looked well-done.  They must have been just
lightly fried, still crisp, but with a salmony flavor to them, or in the
light coat of oil.  I swallowed.

   "It's set up in a cell structure." I put my fingertips together.  "I
know a few numbers, everyone does, I don't know if there's some central
master controller with the whole list, but I have a little cred with these
people.  They know me, so if I surf it, I might be able to find more
systems, and get a bigger look at the picture.  I'm pretty obsolete,
really, I'd have to go back to college to learn the new signals, but
because it's still analog, I might be able to hack the undernet."

   "Don't try to explain it to me," she set down her fork.  "You up for
desert?"

   I nodded.  She took my dish, and set them on the counter.  Then, she sat
in my lap.  Her new skirt, I don't know where I was hiding when she picked
it out.  She rubbed my hand on her thigh.  She sighed, and just relaxed.  I
felt for the all power button, and dropped the remote.

   She didn't like the sectional, called it "Too blocky" but the extra
corner without the ottoman, it was perfect for sitting crossed like this,
because we could both lean back.  I felt her bra, fuller.  I hope eating
hasn't replaced the tweak permanently, I don't want her getting too fat,
but she still had a long way to go.  Again, I tried to think how they'd
look, filled all the way out.  Without the folds under them, to sweat when
she didn't wear a bra.

   I couldn't find her nipple, or feel the ring through it, "You wanna
touch my panties?" She slipped my hand up, under her skirt.  I felt them,
dry cotton.  Fairly sterile.  She kept clean enough, learned to
surprisingly quickly, and "Do you think you could spank me?"

   "Uh?" I looked over at her.

   "I mean," she bit her lip, "I know you can't hurt me, that's what's
gotten my thinking about it.  I don't want it to hurt, but since we're
working on your whole sex phobia thing."

   "What does that even mean?" My nail caught on something, and I tapped
it.

   "Oh, and I moved the rings down to the lower holes." She grinned.  She
told me what she'd done.  To him, thank God I couldn't see it in the video,
with his back over the camera.

   "Spanking?" I pulled my hand back.

   She giggled, "You watched it?"

   "Yeah," Of course, "But I never understood it."

   "Well, you won't never understand just watching it!" She got up, "Over
here," she turned my legs, and bent over to grip the counter.  "Go on, slap
my ass." She wiggled.

   "I could hurt my hand," I winced.

   But she didn't get mad, "Suck it up, wuss, just slap my ass.  Come on,
you won't hurt me, it'll be fun."

   "Ah?" I held up my hand, and she took it.  Felt back to my wrist, and
pulled it back.

   "I won't break," I winced again, "See, that wasn't too bad.  But not a
proper spanking for a bad-girl, like me, right?'

   "Uh," my hand shook, "Right?" but she didn't hit any bone with it.

   "But you have to do it." she let go.  "You have to hit me, I can't spank
myself any more'n I can tickle myself." More than.  (I usually gave up on
trying to correct her grammar, much less her spelling, on account of her
dyslexia, but it was a stress reflex.) "Don't start crying, baby.  I'm the
one's s'posed to get punished in this scene.  Aren't you a little to old
for crying?  Little wimp, can't even get it up for a little slap, and
tickle with his woman?  That's right, Dale, I'm your's.  Forever if you can
satisfy me.  You got me off the shards," she means tweak, "And you can do
whatever you want to me.  But right now, I want you to spank me.  I need
you to punish me, or I'll never learn.  I'll go bad again, take your most
valuable things, and run off to pawn them for tweak.  Save me Dale, only
you can do this for me, you're the only man I trust to do it, and not hurt
me."

   "All," I slapped her, "Right."

   "Do it again." she laughed, "Come on, that didn't hurt.  I been hit
harder by a baby you little pussy.  Come on, you think I'll break?  I'm
steel, man, bullets bounce on my breast.  Yeah, harder.  Put some elbow in
it.  No, that sure didn't seem to work.  You limp wristed little fag, can't
you even slap an ass?" She pulled up her skirt, "It's right there in front
of you.  Ooh!  Yeah harder!  Ow!  I know you got some more, now faster,
faster, damnit!"

   I spanked her as fast as I could until, "Ow!" I held my wrist.

   "Oh," she twisted, and sat down.  "Sorry."

   "I did hurt my hand." She squirmed until it rolled around, between my
pubis, and her thigh.

   She kissed it, and I pulled it back.  "It's okay, it'll heal." She
jerked me off real quick after that.  Real quick, on the floor between my
legs.  Bare handed, I ran to throw up when she licked it off her finger. 
"What?"

   Shooter {MF[M] "Rape" [Voye] Fant Porn}

   The window reflected the camera, my mask, and the little pinhole lens
next to my eye.  The telltales removed, just a street-light behind me.  I
flipped up the viewfinder, pressed the rubberized lens guard to the glass,
and looked through the camera.

   She got up, didn't look at the window, but cut off the TV, dropped the
remote, and went upstairs.  She left a sheet of paper on the counter, put a
pen right in the middle, and turned out the light, over the sink.  I made
it over to the other window before she came in, the bedroom.  Kind of low,
on my side, I had to kneel on the sill.  The window shadowed by the camera,
and my body, I had to tilt it down to cover the bed.

   [That's good.] In my ear, wired through the headset to the lipstick cam.
I saw the camera was switched to low light.  She didn't turn on the switch,
just untied the belt, and dropped the robe.  Her skin glowed, lightly in
the near-IR.

   Not bad, she turned, dropped it in front of a closet, but her tits were
kind of small, and real saggy.  She looked older, maybe a model before she
got in this business, she layed down, and I turned off the camera after she
was still for a while.

   I walked around, back to the door, and peeked through.  Still dark, of
course, no movement, unlocked.  I listened to her, talking quietly in the
next room, couldn't make any of it out.  I took the booties off my shoes,
stepped in, and closed the door behind me.  There was a sweat-shirt on the
chair, so I took off my jacket, put it on, zipped it up, and pulled the
hood over my mask.  Tying it on, I picked up the camera.

   "Ready to roll out here." I didn't yell it, but she stopped whispering.
I turned on the camera, looked around the room in NIR, went up to the
kitchen, zoomed in, visible light, on the paper, made sure it was readable.
Picking up the pen, I signed the empty line, right over my screen-name. 
Credits, if you will, and a contract that this was all consensual
role-play, all the actors are over 18, and all that noise.  I turned off
the light over the stove before turning back to the bedroom door.

   I set the pen back, right where I found it.  On the side, right up to
the edge, exactly halfway down.  [Good.] At least he didn't talk too much,
overdirect.  I'm not usually an actor, I'm a camera-man, but I always
wanted to try this.

   She was still on the bed, in the light through the window, no shadow
standing in it, filming, which she totally would've seen.  Not my script, I
moved around the bed, both lenses on her back, and legs.  The phone next to
her arm, I followed the cord stretched back to the receiver, and silently
hung it up before it started making that noise.  "Dodidee!  We're sorry,"
the tinny voice cut out.  I don't know if the pinhole mic on the front
picked it up.

   Panned back.  [Don't touch her.  Yet.] I let the camera down, pushed the
phone back with the butt, and set it into the square, taped to the top of
the dresser.  Just right, the zoom, and focus rings started turning around
the macro-micro, so I turned back to her.

   She snored, lightly.  Sounded kind of convincing.  Even prettier in this
light, her chin, jaw, nose, even her cheekbone, and eyebrow looked sharp.
Her hair, it was too perfect.  Straight, looked brushed or combed down the
pillow, and over her shoulder.  A pro, out of character, she was supposed
to be a college age party-girl, but most of our audience was probably
fast-forwarding past the tension by now.

   [Okay,] he directed, [Reach out for her now, slowly...  Yeah, that's
good.  Lower, I mean move in, with your hand.] I bumped the side of the
bed, but it was out of frame, and I don't think it shook visibly.  [Just
barely touch her,] Low, on her back, [Then pull back.] Right above her
butt, she didn't react at all, but the bed shook a little.  [Yeah, just
listen a second, then touch her again.  A little braver...]

   I touched her shoulder, reached over for her hair, it felt rougher then
I expected.  She stopped snoring, sighed.  "Hey babe'," Opened her eyes. 
"Wh?"

   [Grab her, Silence her!] I covered her mouth, and her eyes went wide,
but she was already up on her side before I put a knee up, and threw a leg
over.  Not a stitch on her, or a hair below the lashes, she looked smoother
in the low light, and probably the pinhole lens.  No idea what the
stationary caught from the side.

   POV, she struggled, but I got her arms pinned in my legs as quick as I
could, and started feeling her chest.  Baggy, full of fat, but nice big
dark nipples.  And warm, the rest of her was cold, especially her back, but
her chest warmed up to my thin glove.

   "Mrh!" She tried to shake my hand off her face, but didn't open her
mouth, or try to bite me.  I had to reach back, try to adjust the growing
hardness in it's coat?  IDFK, this latex thing, like a jock-strap with a
built in rubber, and ball-bag.  It felt sweaty, and clingy, but if he
wanted to pay for me shaving, getting it cast, and molded custom for me. 
Part of the gig, I guessed.

   I unsnapped my pants, ripped open my fly, pulled it out, and kinda
squirted it around to get everthing lined up in there.  "Don't fight me."
[Reassure her] "You don't have to fight," right, "I won't hurt you, I love
you." I recalled some suggested lines.  Not really scripted, but he sent me
a whole list of things he'd say, alphabetized.  Can't really call it
adlibbed, neither.

   She relaxed, but I looked into her eyes, and saw nothing.  I mean not a
damned thing, they wern't even wide, or squinting in anger, she just looked
at me.  Stared at me with those crazy eyes.  So, I looked down, between her
legs, picked up the one opposite the stationary, and levered it up over
her. Still holding her mouth, so I let my hand run down it, to her pussy.
It was thin, but long.  The lips pressed together so I couldn't see
anything, but I rubbed the side with my thumb.

   "I just want you to feel." Something strange, "I want to make you feel
good." I whispered.  A small hole, not like a piercing, but ragged around
it, almost torn.  Nothing in it, just a hole, like she been shot by a .22,
or something.  No idea how, but pinching the other one out, it went right
through.  Not straight through, the holes didn't line up, but there was 2
of them.

   She sighed through her nose on the top of my hand.  "There," I felt
around in there, "Doesn't that feel nice?"

   "m?" Like a little peep, but at least she had her crazy eyes closed.  My
fingertip slipped, on some dampness lower down.  I rubbed it around, then
back up to the top.  Felt the tiny spongey ball of her clit, already hard
in the skin.  "Mh!"

   "Yeah," I chuckled, "You like it." I was good, and hard, so I moved in,
held myself aimed, and didn't look down until I was starting to go in.  It
looked weird, featureless.  The latex "Artist" matched my skin almost
perfectly, but it's bald, and feels all fucked up.  Never was a big fan of
rubbers, even, but I don't know where all she's been.  So, the extra
protection might be better for me.  It just felt so thick, and numb.

   "mM!" Crazy eyes, wide.

   "Sorry," I looked down, "Does it hurt?  It always hurts the first time,
or that's what they say." Junky, track marks inside her arm, so I looked
away.  I guess that explained how she looked, almost like a model, except
her saggy tits, and all the roughness in her face.  The burnt tooth when
she smiled.

   Someone can pause it later, point out all the little things on the net,
if this one hits that big.  Probably not, she's really not that much of an
actress.  Kind of opposite day, usually it's tough to get the jaded ones to
act turned on.  Instead, she couldn't hide it, she was trembling, but not
in fear.  Short gasps, and snorts through her nose.

   I started slow, but quickly built up with all the excitement.  Even
through the thick rubber, I was surprised how quick it came, and how hard.
She curled up, as soon as I got off her, and pretended to cry.  That was
pretty convincing.

   I grabbed the camera, my copy of the contract, and my jacket on the way
back out.

   Dale

   She called as soon as it was over.  "That was intense!" Still breathing
heavy, turned on, probably touching herself.

   "Did you get off?" I started the footage over, the second batch, after
the set-up scene outside.

   "Not yet," she grunted.

   I paused it at the contract, didn't zoom in, but looked close to make
sure every letter was readable, again.

   "Wainwright," I remembered, "Ronald, J."

   "Who, the cameraman?" I set the laptop aside, and turned over.

   "No, the guy.  From the the thing, way back then.  The one you killed."
She held her breath.  ...  "He didn't cover his tracks very well, I managed
to get an address, met his landlord, hadn't decided to clean the place out
yet, but wouldn't show me it.  Took a down payment, I used an account from
the undernet, nobody I'd miss if the police ever get that far.  Sarah?"

   She just breathed.  Didn't snore, but I think she was asleep.  I shut
off the phone, but left it on the side of the bed, in case she called back
when the phone timed out.  Unplugged the modem from the back of the laptop,
but dropped the cord, still hanging out of the landline.  Remember to plug
the phone back in before checkout.  In the morning, they haven't wiretapped
me yet.  This I know, and I doubt they're set up to monitor my wireless
signal, through the motel's booster.

   I imagined her curled up, in all the blankets like she does when I'm not
there.  Only to be kicked off in her sleep when she gets too hot.

   "I love you," I mumbled to myself, "Sarah." and hugged a pillow.

   Skin City

   He met me there, and me and 'Tina already had it all set-up.  Fresh
shaved, I'm sure, probly scrubbed raw it was so dirty, not even any hair in
his ass.  If he didn't burn the evidence in the fireplace.

   She didn't look at him, like I told her.  Unless he's turned away, or
got his eyes closed, he did as soon as he was laying back on the
table/chair thing, with the stirrups.  I never shaved a guys' legs before.
Yeah, you get the idea.

   'Tina pulled the gloves up over her elbows, sprayed some stuff on. 
"It's okay, honey." She touched him, "I'm right here." he didn't say
nothing, just braethed through his nose.  "Hold still," he was squirming,
unfamiliar hands on him, down there, "You know you got to get hard?" I put
my hand on his shoulder, rubbed his chest.

   The, she called it Silly-cone, I think.  Smelled like vinegar, but said
it casts better then latex.  Peeled right off the cameraman, whenever I
watched all this.  She got a good coat on, out to the edges of his legs,
and up to where his belly started going up over it.  He's not fat, really.
Kinda chubby I guess, but not all saggy.  Weird sideways manboobs, probably
even less hairy then me all cleaned up.  I wondered if there's a waxer in
town?  Or could he do it himslef, handle his private flesh, and watch in a
mirror, careful not to cut himself, draw any blood?  Maybe he used Neet, or
something?  I couldn't feel even a single prickle of Stubble, anywhere.

   It took a while to cure, turn into hard rubbery jelly, so we went out to
smoke in our coats.  "I don't mean to ask, but what kind of serious scene
are you guys playing at?"

   I sighed, "It's complicated."

   "Still haven't heard anything from Ron," I guess Don was his alias, but
she had his credit number.  "Since you guys came by."

   "You miss him?"

   She shrugged, and shook her head.  "He spent a lot of money, but.  Ever
since I saw you, and all your bruises."

   "He raped me." She looked up, and I showed her the truth on my face. 
"Kidnapped me too, but I guess I got a little," I looked away, "Patty
Hearst, and played along till I could get away."

   "Before he brought you here?"

   I nodded, closed my eyes.  "He wasn't really playing.  Um, D, B, S, and
M.  He was, like a real Sadist."

   "BDSM," she put her hand up on my arm, but I didn't flinch.

   "Yeah, uh." I sighed, "I, made sure, he wouldn't hurt anybody else."

   "How?" she stopped me, "If I may ask."

   "I fucking killed him." Told him I would.  She looked away from my eyes.

   "Well you look," she ran her eyes up, and down, "Much better now?" She
wiped her eye, and sniffed.

   "Oh yeah," I flipped off my smoke, "Dale's a real great guy.  And uh. 
Thanks.  You really helped me get away, saved my life." I hugged her.

   It was getting cold again.  Not really an other indean summer, but like
a late spring cold snap.  S'posto freese again tonight, or sleet, whatever
that is.

   Dale {FM Bond Rape Fdom.}

   "What's a good word?"

   "Oroboros?" I couldn't decide yet.

   "What 'sat?" She shook her head.  I watched the rope slide through her
hand, to the end.

   "Uh, it's like a serpent, eating it's tail." {Leonard Cohen, "Last
Year's Man."} "In Norse Mythology there's also the Midg,.."

   She covered my lips, "Sh."

   This thing was a bitch to stretch on, and I could feel every single hair
that I missed when I moved.  Even tackier then Latex, somewhere downtown
there's a storage room with a cast of my crotch in it.  In case I wanted
anything else made.  Even had a tip reservoir, like the nipple on the end
of a balloon, before it gets inflated.

   I swallowed, closed my eyes, and let my head back.  She finished
wrapping it around my wrist, and tied it off.  Around the other side, she
pulled the slack out under the matress, and started wrapping my other arm.
Up on either side of the pillow, the bed in the middle under the window. 
Some cameras, mirrors, nothing fancy or expensive.  All out of each others'
FoV.

   "I'm going to touch you," I felt my penis roll around.  She massaged it
in the sheathe, as it started to harden, her dry hand squicking on the
Silicone.

   "Uh," she squirted the tip around mine, then it popped back out when she
released the pinch.  Sweaty in there, I guessed, or maybe I leaked a couple
drops?

   "There," I felt her knee on the side, smelt her, and held my breath. 
She doesn't stink, it's not even unpleasant, and she just washed, but I
can't ignore knowing where that scent comes from.  What she intends to do.

   She needs this.  As much as I can give it to her, if at all.  I just
prayed it didn't go soft.  I knew I could watch this later, after she,
through the headboard mounted lens.  I tried not to panic, but felt so
anxious, don't hyperventilate, take a deep breath, and calm down.

   But I can feel her.  Her warm weight on my lap, around my hips, along my
sides, right in front of me.  My scrotum squishing in the silicone,
shrinking away from it, the gentle pressure wrapping around me, pressing it
against my front.

   Not even inside her, I feel the thick rubbery condom getting looser, but
she rocks her hips, and I look down.

   Just a grey tube.  That's all, like a dildo.  I can't even feel her clit
draped over the top, dipping down, rubbing on the end, but I can see it,
and feel the grey polymer tightening again.  "Uh!"

   Cyborg sex, yeah.  I never wanted to be human, fuck that.  Always wanted
to be a robot, like the tinman, clean, and polished, shiny and unfeeling.
Like that story I read, what was that author's name, Psibersomething?  S/he
wrote out the Greek letter.  No skin, but a tough outer shell.  Armored,
inpenetrible.

   "Hmh." She settled down again, and rubbed my belly.  Brushed my navel,
and felt up to my nipples.  She had her eyes closed, but looked so
beautiful to me.  Her face filled out to see the wrincles, around her
mouth, and nose.  Her smile, I looked away from the Crack Tooth.

   Her chest, already hot, and red, the stretch marks on the sides.  I
pulled at the ropes, wanting to touch her, but could not.  The cute little
scab, almost healed in the center of her chest.  She called it "A zit,"
said she had to squeeze out, but it was perfect.  I mean exactly in the
center of her chest, right over her heart, but I can't imagine how else it
got there.

   She felt her chest, picking them up to squeeze them, I glanced down at
the 2 dots where she'd hidden the needles.  Before I could look away, I
noticed another, dotted line above the ones on the other side.  Looked,
healed a little, but a little fresher moving inward, to the center of her
chest from right under the left side.  The one on the end even scabbed a
little.

   I closed my eyes, again.  She actually got some strokes in before I
could no-longer ignore where I was.  Inside her, insulated even from her
warmth, but I felt trapped.  Keenly aware of the biomass all around me, the
wet squishy tissues, the blood pumping through it, myself shrinking in the
silicone tube.

   "Oh." I tried.  Faked it before she felt it go soft in her, and panted,
just realizing I'd been holding my breath.  "Sorry sweety, but I couldn't
hold it back any longer."

   She patted the side of my face, "Such a shitty liar," and gently slapped
me.  It didn't hurt, but kinda woke me up.  "Huh!" She sighed hard. 
"Fuck." And reached for her lighter, bye the candle.

   "Uh," I shook my wrist, "Can you untie me?" She pulled the loop out, and
grabbed her lighter.  I had to unwind the rope before I could reach over,
and undo the other end.

   Sarah {F Solo Maso...}

   I frigged off, on the little back porch thing.  I didn't care if anyone
heard me, or saw me crying, but he can't do it.  Damn it, he can't keep it
up long enough to fuck me off, and I'm just too fucking disgusting for him.
Too skinny, too cracked out, still just a dirty little tweeker.  It don't
wash off.

   He probably don't think it's rape.  What I done to him, but just
thinking that renewed my horniness.  Tecnichally, he didn't want to be in
there, the very thought disgusted him almost as much as French kissing. 
So, I had to rape him, to feel him inside me.  I can't help it, I don't
want the last guys' dick to be some stranger, that cameraman much more'n
"Don's." Or Ron, or whatever his name is.  Or, I mean was.

   My second rape, and you know, more my style?  Really, I'm not a man,
don't wanna rape a woman, and he's the only guy I got, but does he even got
to know?  He's my victim, but with all his isseus, well, we'll just see how
long I can hide it from him.

   I didn't bring a point, and I cloudn't pull my fingers out to take the
safety pin out of my ear.  My first holes, when I turned 14, god it was
almost 10 years ago?  Really!  and besides, I'd burn my hair.  I sniffed,
and let the filter touch my leg.  Still working inside, I felt my writs
around front, against the other one, and gently flipped it in my fingers.

   I could feel the heat, so close, and held my breath, "ah." I gushed, and
sucked at my fingers.  I dropped it, but just leaned against the door, and
fucked my fingers hard until it was over.  Surpized I didn't even slide
down, to my knees in the filthy dry cold square of concrete...

   I opened my eyes, looked around the back yard, and caught my breath. 
Fuck, now I Needed an other smoke.  So, I picked up the butt, puffed it up,
and got out another.  The fresh burn started to hurt, and my wet cheeks
were getting cold, but I just wiped them on my sleves, and laughed before I
started crying again.

   I felt it, gently.  It hurt, but it wasn't bad enough to blister just
from that little touch.  I didn't finish it, but shivered 'till I had to go
in, and make some coffee.

   Dale {MF Somn Rape Cons Puls.}

   "Sarah?" She 'Mhm?'ed sleepily.  "Have you been," I didn't want to ask,
"Hurting yourself?" Couldn't help it, or it would bother me until I did.

   "Not really," she sighed, "Even before, I got used to the pain and it, I
guess it reminds me of when I used to get high."

   "Stabbing yourself?" She rested a while, but didn't breathe like she'd
drifted off.

   "Huh, not really.  I mean, it's just little pokes, I barely even break
the skin, and it doesn't, bleed, much."

   It felt uncomfortable, but I'd worn it to bed.  Taken off, sprayed out
in the shower, toweled dry, and turned right-side-out again.  I didn't feel
like sterilizing it, she came in after I was under the covers, except the
top arm, over it.

   She cuddled against me, outside the covers, and I put my arms under
hers. She's right, this isn't too bad.  I told myself, it's 'just' skin. 
Like the barriers, it's supposed to keep everything in, all the, fluids. 
Arms crossed over her chest, I felt the strange new studs, or the balls on
the ends.  She filmed it, right in front of me, and I played it over, and
over 'till I could watch the whole thing.

   Bloodless, sterile, the holes were part of her, the studs slipping
through easily, and she spun the balls tight on the threaded ends.  Healed
up, she kept the safety pins in her ears, but took them out, and washed
them regularly.  I started to harden, pulled back my arm back, and slipped
it under the covers behind me.  She just hugged the other elbow with her
hand.  I slipped that one down to pillow it on her breast, and up under the
other one.

   Warm, and dry, I could wash it later if we started sweating, but I could
feel her heart.  Beating through her chest, she couldn't fake that.  She
breathed soft, and slow, like she was already asleep, but her pulse would
even out after she finally drifted off.  I massaged myself a little through
the [Si]n Skin(f) synthetic latex, or at least that's what the company
called it.  {(f)ictional Trademark.}

   Teflon coated, outside, still smooth and tacky around me.  She doesn't
like the way it feels, the bare silicone, nor even cured un-vulcanized
latex.  The teflon helped, she said it felt more real, skinlike, on her
side.  The outside, I liked how the inside clung to me, reminded me that it
was there, protecting me from, the fluids, involved.

   No pulse, barely any warmth, she started snoring lightly, but I held
still, waited for her heart to confirm it.  Listened to her breaths,
slipping it up between her thighs, smelled the dandruff shampoo in her
hair.

   I pulled back, to slowly flap the hot cover off of me, and let it slip
down between us.  Half rolling back, I felt over her hip, and touched her.
She was dry, but I could wash my fingers later.

   Technically rape, I guess.  But she said I could, "Any time you want." I
had it in her writing, and signed.  She checked the links I'd showed her,
followed some more on the BDSM Wiki, Google auto-corrected if she spellde
it rwong.  Declared herself a Dominant Masochist, of all things.  "If you
can't have sex..." She just let that go, but then later: "It's not sex,
it's Rape."

   She sighed as it slipped in.  Slowly, but her heart just kept ticking,
regular as a metronome.  It, don't feel nothing.  The silicone was warm,
body temp, I guess, but also a good insulator.  Thick enough I could feel
nothing else, inside or out, except tactile pressure.  I don't know if
she's loose, I never been inside no one else, but I won't say she's tight.
I'm not a very big man, TBPH, but I don't have any emotional investment in
that.

   Big enough for her, with all she'd been through.  "Mh!" My fingers
pulled back when she started to wetten, but I couldn't feel it, on it. 
Less resistance, pulling out, and her elbow came up, to touch herself.  She
kept breathing, slow, and regular, but her heart spun up, like a turbo, and
warmed her chest.

   I held her hip, and figured out how to, IDFK scooch/roll in, and out of
her, regularly.  Like a machine, but steadily accelerating, picking up the
piston cycle, feeling her heart rev higher, her breaths come faster, and
shallower until she was grunt/gasping.  "Nh hN!" Something like that,
"Nh'hnNhnHnhNH!" Winding up faster, and faster until I felt her hold her
breath, and her heart wind down, into slower, but harder pulses.  Thumping
against my fingers.

   "Nh," she rolled off.  "Uh grhk!" I heard the trashcan thump on
something hard, like the side of the dresser.  "Hrl.." I put my hand over
my ear till she crawled, pushing it across the floor, and the side of her
tummy tightened.  I closed my eyes, held my breath, and swallowed.  Tried
not to think about the pressure, building up to my throat.

   I gagged, and burped, but it was dry.  I got up, holding my nose, and
ran past the bathroom when I heard the door close.  Thank god I hadn't
eaten yet.

   "Sarah?" {MF NS Lies.}

   "Yeah?" I sat on the toilet seat, and the tank hissed behind me.

   "What happened?"

   I sighed, and rubbed the cold sweat off my face.  "I'm," my hands shook,
"Huh, I'm pregnant."

   "WTF?" I still can't say that, out loud, the way he does.

   "You remember taking me to the clinic, to test for STDs?" My idea, but
HepC, AISD...  Nothing.  "Well, I understand why you didn't go in with me,
but they ran all the tests.  I had to tell them I was raped, to do it free,
and anonimus.  They reran it, not sure how many times, that was the only
positive." Of course, he didn't think about it was a couple months, he
didn't have to buy me no tampons?

   "But, I," he sighed, "We never."

   That was just the first time, just then, and I still ain't sure if he
got off.  He didn't fake it, but how wuold I tell?  "It's his." Didn't even
think the name, or the face, but had to shook the mask out of my head. 
"Almost 2 months, pregnet."

   "I understand..." He waited, a while.  "Um...  How do you, feel about
that?"

   "I can't." No more crying.  "I'm not.  Huh, you think?  I." Got up, and
unlocked the door.  He was still wearing that plastic jock.  Even the new
one don't feel quite like real skin, but I just had to hold him.  "Oh, I
don't know if I." Should...  I sniffed.

   "Come on." He walked me to the den, steeped down with me, and we sat on
the couch.  "Do you want to have it," I heard him choke up, "Kk'ill... 
It?"

   "I don't know!" I cried.

   Dale {MF Rape Cons Anal}

   She wanted it.  Said as much, had it in writing, but that doesn't make
it any less Rape.  "I want you to Rape me." Funny, I didn't have any
fantasies about it, even after I first saw her, on the feed.

   "You sure you're ready for this?" I nodded, a lie, but pulled the ball
between her open teeth, and buckled it behind her head.  I swallowed the
dry lump in my throat, but we'd already done the prep.  Mostly her, she
fasted a whole day, bathed, and even washed herself out.  I left, couldn't
watch her in the bath, once she filled the water bottle, and picked up the
slotted wand on the end.

   I still couldn't watch, that.  Don't think about it, focus on her,
crawling to the edge of the bed, and twisting to let her legs hang off. 
Reaching around the sides, she pulls out the loops, but I have to help her
get them around her wrists.

   The problem is she can't help it.  With love, instead of the fear, pain,
and hatred that would probably force her down, curled up, and sobbing
uncontrollably.  I didn't want to hurt her, as much as she begged me to,
acted up hoping I'd punish her, trying to make me jealous, or leaving
messes calculated to push my buttons.  Her left hand was a little looser,
had a little more slack, so I pulled the ends to even them up.

   There, right in the middle, I focussed on her back, the narrow taper,
her tight skin over shoulder-blades, the nice even line of dimples down her
spine.  Milking the barrier, I realized it was a bit like an udder, but the
skin settled into place against the tacky side, as I filled it.

   I rubbed the back of her neck, and it was tense, but she turned, "Rh!"
and tried to glare at me.  Behind her, I could still see her eyebrow,
furrow, the side of her face, frowning, and biting into the gag.

   "Bitch," I whispered, and balled my fist in front of her eyes, knowing I
wouldn't do anything with it.

   "Mh hm!" She nodded, then winced, and relaxed from her hair, twisting in
my fingers.

   "Don't look at me, cunt!" I turned her away, and pushed her face down,
holding her neck as tight as I dared.  She whimpered, but I had to hold my
breath to keep her smell out of my nose.

   It turned her on, so we couldn't have it dry, rough the way we both
wanted.  Even in my gloved hand, the teflon coating on the outside felt a
little too slick, too much like skin, so I ignored it.  Clipped out that
noise, and clenched to stay hard, running it up, and down behind her. 
"There, you like that?"

   "NRH!" she arched back, squeeled in pain from me pulling her head up by
the hair.

   "Yeah," I rubbed numbly between her legs, knowing she could feel it,
"You like it, slut.  Don't deserve a good fuck, you'd enjoy it too much." I
bent over, slipping up to her hole, and mentally editing which one.  Just
don't think about it, concentrate on her, the heat spreading down her neck
and across her back.

   She relaxed, panting expectantly through her nose, but all I could see
was her hair.  "AIGH!" She jumped, but I rubbed my glove over the spot on
her cheek, and pulled back as if to give her another swat.  "URH?"

   She told me, the secret to pain is like telling a joke.  Surprise. 
Before either of us knew it, I was deep inside her, trying not to think
about where.  It had to be, she didn't get all wet, in there, no matter how
turned on she was, but from the way she relaxed, and panted through her
nose I knew she was faking it.

   Not the pain, but trying to cover up it's effect on her.  This was her
fantasy, the most intense thing she can think of, barely get through the
fantasy before I ran in disgust.  "Yeah, you fucking whore." I bent to
breathe on her ear, "How's that feel?  How do you like it, being raped?"

   I projected all the fear, and disgust of being inside her, her...  For
once, the thought of her feeling it, flashing back to the Substation, the
cold hard dirty rapecell where I'd found her really turned me on.  The
ultimate empathy, I knew exactly how it felt by now, as many times as she'd
tied me down, forced me into her, raped me until I couldn't keep it up.

   Not

   A

   Problem.

   Not now, not when she was the Victim, MY victim.  I never felt that,
imagined how the power trip could feel until I suddenly understood.  How it
could be so addictive.  What Ron saw in it, the heady power welling up in
me, forcing out all my doubt, and disgust.  It felt dirty, delightfully so,
I never got that before.  How dirty could be anything but a turn-off.

   Why anyone would want this, to hurt someone, rape them, up the ass.  "Uh
grhd!" I practically growled between my teeth, "It hurts, doesn't it?"

   "Nrh!?" She turned her head away.  I smelled her hair.

   "Don't lie, you fucking Cunt." It didn't even sound like me, "Don't you
know I can smell it," I moved over her, dragging myself out so he
reflexively pushed, "Your fear?" tried to shit my dick out.  "Taste it?"

   She was genuinely surprised, I could see her eye go wide when I licked
her face.  So I slapped her ass again, and felt her clench in surprise. 
"Yeahhhh," god I sounded, "Hhuurrts." like the Kurghan.  "It always hurts
the first time." I felt the urge to stick my tongue in her ear, turned, and
spat out the bitter taste.

   "AUH!" I rammmed in her before it went soft.  Feeling the old disgust,
and gripped her neck again.  "MH!" Then her shoulders, "MH?" Forcing the
muffled grunts out, "MH, MH, MH MHhmhmhm?" She started crying, sobbing,
squeezing tears out of her eyes to run over her nose.  But I couldn't stop,
like washing my hands, my arms pulled, and my hips bucked all on their own.
I just sat back, and watched inside as the animal brutalized her.

   "AhhhrrRHHH!" My hands slipped, so I grabbed her hips, "RH!" sank my
fingers in her sides, "RHRH!" hoped it was tight enough to bruise her,
"RHRHRH!" Mark her as Mine.  "RHRHRHRHRHRH!  Uh!  AH!  AHHhhh..."

   Dear fucking god!  This is so,..  So, this is it.  What it feels like.
To dominate, Rape.  What God must feel like.  I barely even suspected just
watching it, even POV fantasized my self up here, looking down on her,
crushed before me.

   It went soft, crawling back so the goo puddled up in front, and the
feeling washed out with disgust.  "Uh?" my throat choked up, and and I
pulled out, "Oh god," I hugged her, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" I held her,
and cried, but she couldn't curl up against me, spoon with me, unless I
untied her.

   "Sarah?" I rubbed her shoulder, "SARAH!" Shook it, then felt for a
pulse. Terrified, I tried the other hand, without the glove, and finally
felt it..

   ..

   "Oh," thank God!  She must have just passed out.  Much as I wanted to
strip out of this nasty thing, and dive in a tub full of lysol, I forced
myself to unbuckle the gag, and untye her wrists first.  But then, I
couldn't get to the shower fast enough.  I couldn't help looking over at
the Water Bottle, still on the back of the tank, and I was so happy I'd
decided to fast with her.
   I never want to feel like that again.