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5/10/2007

DrabJuggler





























Sam had released her from her stringent bondage after she
had fainted. He didn't want to put her through another
night of having to sleep standing up. He had massaged her
wrists and legs with his special soothing lotion he had
used before, but, as with the stripes on her back, the marks
would last for days, especially those between her legs
and cunt lips where the rough rope had rubbed the tender
skin almost raw. She was very tender in her nether regions.
The salve didn't help when that much of the protective
layers of the skin were damaged and the nerves almost exposed.






She stirred on the bed. He stopped what he was doing and went
over to stand by the bed. She looked up at him, the focus in
her eyes far away. A grin slowly came to her lips when she
was able to bring him into focus. He had removed his clothes
while he has whipped her and had not bothered to dress after
she had fainted. Reaching over to him, she grabbed his prick
firmly.





"More, " she said.


It was neither a question nor a demand.





"More?"


Sam's voice cracked when he spoke, causing them both
to crack up.





"You promised."


"I know I did. I just want to be sure you're OK."



She turned a defiant eye to his tender one.





"You promised!" she repeated, this time emphatically.



"You promised you would fuck me after."


She looked up at him and he could see the desperation in her
eyes.





"Pleeease?"


He sighed as he lay down beside her on the bed. His hands floated
over her body, slowly arousing her, bringing her to the
edge repeatedly. His lips suckled at her tits, his tongue
flicking over the gold rings. It was a novel sensation for
her, and it drove her to the brink as easily as his feathery
touches to her raw clit.





When he took her, he treated her with extreme care. It was
much too gentle for her taste. She eased her body out from
under him and pushed him over on his back. Her sore muscles
screamed at her actions but she was determined to have him
her way. She lifted her leg up and over his torso and settled
down over him, straddling his hips. She froze, squeezing
her eyes shut. It hurt so good she almost fainted.





Karin laid her palms on his shoulders and pressed down,
resting on her straightened arms. She kept her eyes closed
and breathed deeply several times, willing the pain into
the background. He lay still under her, his prick nestled
between her pussy and his body. She had not yet got to the
point of sliding back and inserting him into her pussy.
Even so, he was amazed at her determination and stamina
to get this far. Against his dominant instincts, he decided
to let her set the pace this time. He was completely satisfied
with their trip so far, having satisfied his dark needs
for inflicting pain and domination. This rest was gravy
for him.





With a catch in her breath, she raised her pelvis up off his
stomach. She reached beneath her, feeling between their
bodies. She carefully positioned his fat cock head against
the tight opening of her cunt. She pushed back firmly, crying
out to the darkened gloom, and fully seated herself on his
saddle horn.





Pleasure mixed with pain flooded her senses as she was filled
with his hot pulsing meat.





Karin just sat there for the longest time. This fucking
thing was so new to her, and his cock was so massive, she still
needed time to adjust to it filling her.





When he was inside her, deep and hard as he was now, she could
think of nothing else. She could feel nothing else. The
fullness, the completeness pushed all other feelings
out of her mind. She blushed as she realised that when he
filled her, she became a cunt. Just a cunt. A living, throbbing
hole that needed to be satisfied. She could feel his slow
steady heart beat through his prick, a drummer in counterpoint
to her own rapid beat.





Giving in to base urges with a groan, she rocked back and
forth on his erection, establishing a rhythm that matched
the beat of her inner drummer. Sam lay passive beneath her,
content to be along for the ride. He kept a close eye out for
any signs of distress in her, however. It took a lot away
from his enjoyment, but he felt responsible that she not
be injured.





Karin opened her eyes and saw his concerned, but happy face.
She leaned forward to kiss his forehead, then his eyes,
then his nose and finally his lips. As she kissed him, her
dangling tits brushed up against the hairs on his chest.
The over-sensitized buds sent thrills coursing through
her as she shimmied her shoulders to sway her breasts sexily
over his chest as they kissed.





Breaking the kiss, she burrowed her face into his neck.






"Thank you, " came her muffled voice.


"You're welcome!" he answered, then asked,
puzzled, "For what?"


She pulled his hands up to cup her breasts, the gold nipple
rings burning into his palms form the heat between them.






"For these."


"Oh? Why is that something to thank me for?"



He was teasing her, but wanted her to verbalize what she
was thinking.





"Because I'll always have these to remember
our time together. Even when the aches and pains are gone,
I will have these. So, "Thank You, Sir."


" "Oh. OK."


"Sir?" she asked a little later.


He nodded for her to continue.





"Sir, I know your name isn't Sam, but that's
OK with me. I really don't need to know. It sort of adds
to the mystery."


She continued, twisting his chest hairs around her finger.
She was fascinated with them.





"If you need me, you know who I am and where I live. I
want you to know that you will always be welcome there, even
if you just want to talk. I'd love to visit the cabin
again, anytime you want ... or need."


Her fingers dug into his pectorals, emphasising her last
point.





He felt shamed and elated the same time. He had not planned
to reveal his identity to her. It was a sort of tradition.
The members of the President's Club had agreed that
when they brought "special" dates, the dates
were not to know any of their identities.


Special dates, which Karin had been, sometimes experienced
unexpected advances from their escorts. Sam always made
sure each woman he escorted to the annual event knew what
to expect before they engaged in anything. He also stopped
at the first refusal to continue, but some of the others
members of the Club had been known to get a little out of hand.
Sam was a firm believer that "No" meant "No."



He had not heard that particular word on this phenomenal
weekend. Karin had refused him nothing, at great cost to
her body. He had used her in every way possible. He had marked
her with his own nipple rings. Yes, she was a special girl,
but not the kind he had thought initially. He had taken,
but not given in return. She had nailed his sexual needs
on the head and accepted them. Hell, she had encouraged
him to break through his own fears about his dark obsession
and to accept it himself. Now she was giving him the future.
No questions asked. No demands.





It was an uncomfortable moment. He wasn't sure if she
wanted him to say something. He was afraid if he did open
his mouth, he would end up professing his undying love for
her. As much as he felt that was the truth, he also knew that
these weekends were highly charged emotional events.
What he felt now, he might not feel next week, next month,
next year. He had only just met her, and, well... Oh, SHIT!
It sounded just as empty to him the second time when he reviewed
it. It was as obvious a rationalization as he had ever heard.
He was glad he had not said anything.





Sam laid his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes.
Her pussy was still milking his prick as she lay on top of
him, watching his inner struggle as it played out on his
face. She had hoped, well, that she would at least find out
his name. It had been worth a shot. She could always just
think of him as "Sam' until he decided to tell
her his real name. What was important now was that their
time together was quickly ending. She wanted to make the
most of it.





She latched on to his chin with her sharp white teeth, shaking
her head like a terrier. With her arms, she grabbed him to
her soft breasts. She stretched her legs out straight behind
her. Rolling onto her side, a firm grasp on his cock with
her hungry cunt, she whispered to him, her manner urgent,
"Fuck me, Sam, Fuck me hard!"


He completed the roll she had started and settled her on
her back. He leaned on her pelvis heavily, wanting to irritate
the raw flesh there. She lifted her knees to her chest to
give him even greater access to her pussy, daring him to
do his worst, or best, to her. Incited, he reached down,
grabbed her ankles and bent them up beside her head. Her
positioned lifted her hips off the bed, and put her wet canal
in a perfect line with his raging cock. When he drove down
into her cunt with all his weight, he bottomed out and stretched
her cunt wall to a new size.





He kept his promise to fuck her hard, and long. He had come
several times over the course of the last three days. Although
his prick was rock hard, he felt confident that he was going
to be able to draw this last fuck out for a long time.





It turned out to be not as long as he had hoped. Her magical
cunt muscles began squeezing and milking his prick as soon
as she began to climax. She screamed out her ecstasy with
each peak lasting several minutes. Before long, her sexual
excitement infected him and he began to pump his final load
into her, his rod swelling as he peaked. He grunted and stiffened
as she screamed for him to empty his spurting[color
black] cock into her. Spent, he collapsed on her sweaty
body. His deflating prick slipped from deep inside her
body. Sadness settled over the two lovers at the climax
to their time at the cabin. It had truly been a special time.
They held each other tightly, even as they drifted into
a sound asleep.





Sam and Karin drove back to the city in sated silence early
the next morning.





They had made love once more, but it had been almost an anti-climax.
The urgency was gone, both of their compulsions had been
satisfied, for the moment, at least.





Sam had brought along loose sweat shirt and sweat pants
for her to wear back to the city, correctly guessing that
those soft loose garments wouldn't irritate her skin.
At first light, Karin had teased and dared him into the icy
waters of the pool before they left for the city. They had
skinny dipped like innocent teenagers, splashing and
dunking each other with wild abandon. She was strong enough
to give him back as good as she got. When he broke through
the icy surface, gasping for air after she had dunked him
again for the umpteenth time, he cried "uncle."



Staggering ashore, they collapsed on the bank in peals
of laughter. He had never enjoyed himself more at the cabin.






His cellular telephone started ringing as soon as he came
into range of a cell.





That was a bad sign. He had had his secretary reschedule
all of his meetings indefinitely. She was one of the few
former visitors to the cabin and understood there was no
schedule, no timetable for these things. That someone
needed him urgently enough to auto- redial his cell phone
could only mean a major international client was in big
trouble. That's all he dealt with, the major accounts.






His mind switched automatically to business mode as he
hit the Send button to answer his phone. Karin sat beside
him quietly as he drove, listening quietly, not interrupting.
She knew she didn't have to tease or pester him for attention
like an adolescent would have. She sensed his affection
for her. When he was ready, when he needed her, he would come
back to her. He hadn't said so in so many words, but she
knew.





She closed her eyes, listening to his side of the conversation.






". ..I've been out of town. Personal. No, no,
I'm fine. Never better, in fact. Hong Kong? Ouch! That
bad, huh? Have my secretary go to my apartment and pack a
bag. Yeah, she knows, she's done it before. Knowing
her she's already there waiting with it. Yes, she's
that good and, no you can't have her. The flight leaves
in 45 minutes? Well, if I push it, I can just make it. Right.
Talk to you from Hong Kong."


Just as he finished speaking, they pulled up in front of
her apartment. She leaned over, gave him a quick peck on
the cheek, and said, "Go on now. I know you're
in a hurry."


She jumped out of the car and closed the door before he could
say a word. His mind was already on the disaster he was going
to have to deal with. He knew there was something he wanted
to say to her, but she was gone and out of the car before he
had a chance to get his mind in gear. He waved good bye to her
and grinned as she mouthed "Thank You" as he
drove out of sight.


He was about ten, 000 feet in the air when it came to him.






"Shit!" he exclaimed, causing the first class
attendant to spill a drink on the squalling brat two rows
up.


He had intended to tell Karin his name. He made a note to tell
his secretary to contact her. She would understand. She
had been there before.





At the same time the flight attendant was dousing the passenger,
Karin was echoing his "Shit, " albeit under
her breath.


She had walked up to her apartment. The future looked bright.
For the first time in her life, she felt loved. She had found
a man, her man, and he needed her. She wandered aimlessly
around the apartment, running her hands over the leather
chair they had put to such good use. She could still see the
crusty stains of their mingled cum juices. She found herself
in the bedroom, tightly holding onto the homemade whip
and absently snapping the clothespins when the knock came
at the door.





She opened it with a wide smile, thinking her "Sam"
had thrown his career out the window and had come back to
ride off into the sunset with his true love.


The smile faded, as she looked at the two large men in ill-fitting
blue suits standing at the door. Each was holding up a badge.






"Mrs. Saunders? Mrs. Karin Saunders?" the
taller of the two asked her.


"Yes, I'm Karin Saunders."


"Ma'am, I'm Sgt. Wilson, this is Sgt. Hague.
We'd like you to come downtown with us to answer some
questions."


Karin had never had any contact with the authorities. She
didn't ask why, she didn't even think of refusing.
She simply sighed, stepped into the hallway, closing the
door behind her, and went with the two officers.





An hour later, she sat in the interrogation room in shock.
From the gist of the questions, she had pieced together
that something had happened to Bill. She had been so relieved
it hadn't been Sam. But they kept hounding her and hounding
her for where she was the last four days, why had she moved
out of the house, who did the apartment belong to, and on
and on. The tall man did all the talking. The other one, the
older one, just stood against the wall, glaring at her.
He scared her.





Sgt. Wilson, the junior of the two officers, was doing all
the talking to keep his partner from loosing his badge.
Sgt. Hague had known Bill Saunders for years and considered
him a good friend. He had never met the new wife, and all Bill
had ever said to him about their sudden marriage was that
it had been a big mistake. He had called her a "gold-
digger."


Bill had jokingly brushed it all off with some raunchy comments
about her insatiable sex drive or something, which made
everyone laugh and a little jealous of him, too.





Sgt. Hague was taking Bill's murder particularly
hard. He had not asked to be assigned to the case, in fact,
he had tried to explain that he couldn't do a good job
because of his friendship with the victim. Their lieutenant,
a real hard-assed bitch, had noted his concern and assigned
him the case anyway. He knew better than to question her
decision. The last guy who had dared to challenge her was
still writing parking tickets. Not wishing the same fate,
Sgt.





Hague had thrown himself into the case, and it had solved
itself.





A search of the house had revealed a fully stocked woman's
closet with most of the tags still hanging from the never-
worn clothes. What they didn't find were toiletries,
underwear or personal effects. The young new wife was nowhere
to be found. A wider search of Bill's properties had
turned up evidence of someone living in one of the vacant
apartments in one of the unused warehouses, but a two-day
stakeout had turned up nothing. Convinced she had fled
the city they had set a trip alarm on the door on the outside
chance someone would up. In their experience, persons
who committed domestic crimes were pretty stupid when
it came to police procedures. The didn't really think
anyone would be dumb enough to go back to their hideout.
They were surprised when the alarm had gone off. They were
even more surprised when it turned out that the intruder
who had set the alarm off was their suspect.





For the next twelve hours Karin Saunders was questioned
over and over about her whereabouts and who she had been
with the last three-four days. Nothing was said about why
she was there. Sgt. Hague really wanted the bitch to trip
herself up and say something incriminating. It was a surprise
to the young wife, therefore, when she was booked for the
murder of her husband at the end of those twelve long grueling
hours. She had not confessed, but in twelve hours of intense
questioning, she had never told them where she had been,
whom she had been with, no alibis, no witnesses, nothing.
Even more convincing in the minds of the officers was the
fact that she had never once, in the entire twelve hours,
asked for or referred to her husband. She had never asked
for a lawyer. To them, that told them she was guilty, that
she already knew he was dead. They had not released the news
of his death, so it had never made the news. She knew about
it, because she had done it.





Lt. Sandra Billings, the "hard-assed bitch, "
had watched the last four hours of the interrogation from
behind the one- way mirror.


It didn't look good for Mrs. Karin Saunders. She was
the only suspect, and, as her husband's spouse and
the sole beneficiary of a multimillion-dollar life insurance
policy as well as the sole heir to his business empire, things
didn't look at all good for her at all.





The evidence the police had put together, her lack of an
alibi, well, the lady was in deep shit.





But something didn't sit quite right. She had read
the reports as they had come in. At first, this had been just
another routine murder investigation, and it looked like
it was going to fall into the same domestic violence category
that 85% of the other murders in their city did. On a routine
visit to the interrogation area, however, she noted something
odd about the suspect. She couldn't put her finger
on it, but something piqued her curiosity. She didn't
leave the window until Karin was taken downstairs in handcuffs
for booking. She hadn't contradicted her officers"
recommendation to arrest Mrs. Saunders, but she was convinced
she was innocent. Karin was numb, in a state of shock. She
had been since she had heard the words,





"You're under arrest for the murder of William
Saunders."


Bill was dead. Sam was in Hong Kong. She was all-alone, with
no one to turn to.





She had tried to tell them everything as honestly as she
could. But she didn't know anything. They didn't
believe her. Especially the mean one, Sgt. Hague.





She didn't know who Sam really was, or where she had
been at the ball or where the cabin was, so she never said
anything about them. She had no alibi for her time and didn't
want to go into too many details about her recent activities.






They didn't believe her when she explained that Bill
had arranged for her to move into the apartment.





She was fingerprinted, photographed and taken to the women's
section of the county jail, pending a hearing. It was when
she was strip-searched that the first tangible evidence
that questioned her guilt came up. Lt. Billings had personally
escorted her up to the woman's floor. The other female
employees qualified to escort a felony suspect were all
out of the building. Lt. Billings didn't mind. She
wanted to get a better handle on this quiet woman. She just
didn't fit the profile.





The women's guard assigned to book her at the jail had
just been severely reprimanded for using excessive force
on another inmate, so Lt. Billings was standing just out
side the cubicle during the search. When the guard had seen
the fresh marks on Karin's body, she knew she should
have called Lt. Billings into the examination area right
then. She didn't want anything to do with this new cunt.
She also suspected Lt. Billings of trying to set her up.
She had heard stories about the "iron bitch."



Instead, she proceeded with search, taking extra care
to be gentle. Karin's pained cry, however, when her
well-lubricated gloved finger entered her vagina for
a cavity search brought the lieutenant into the cubicle,
eyes blazing.





What she saw made her gasp. Ugly blue bruises and red welts
covered what should have been a gorgeous body from the neck
to her ankles, front and back.





The guard immediately began to protest.





"It wasn't me that did this, Lt. Honest! I was
just doin" my job and the cunt screamed. I even used
a glove and grease and everything. See?"


She held out the soiled latex glove for her to inspect.





Lt. Billings turned to the guard.





"Oh, shut up! You didn't have time to do all this
damage. I want you to go get an evidence camera. Now!"



Lt. Billings had Karin stand in the classic "up against
the wall" search position with her arms outstretched
and her legs spread, but this time Karin was naked.


She photographed the various bruises and rope marks on
her body. Then she posed her so she could photograph the
brutalized front areas. When she was finished taking evidence,
she tossed her prison garb on the table.





"You can get dressed, Mrs. Saunders."


Karin pulled the shapeless garb carefully over her tender
flesh.





"Sit down."


Karin sat, waiting. She was terribly embarrassed at the
exam. She dreaded the line of questions that she knew were
coming.





"Did your husband beat you?" the lieutenant
started out.


Karin thought back to the scene in the basement.





"Yes, once."


"Did you report it?"


Karin looked quizzical.





"No, why? Should I have?"


The interrogator ignored her questions.





"Did he do this to you then?"


She indicated the Polaroid photos she had just taken of
the bruises and marks on Karin's body.





"No, he didn't do that to me."


"Oh. If he didn't, who did this to you?"



"I ... I, uh, don't know."


Lt. Sandra Billings leaned forward and examined her head
carefully for signs of a blindfold. She didn't see
any, but that didn't mean she hadn't been hooded.






"You didn't see who did this to you?"


Karin answered slowly, reluctantly.





"Oh, yes. I saw him. I just don't know who he is.
He used a fake name. He told me his name was "Sam',
but it wasn't really."


"How did you meet him?"


"It's kind of a long story, lieutenant. But I
guess, well, Bill never said, but I think Bill owed him a
lot of money or something. It had to do with his business.
He never involved me in his business stuff. Until this time.
Bill just wanted me to go to a dance with this guy, Sam."



"He used you to pay a debt to this mystery man? You mean
he sold you, or your services? Like a pimp?"


"Oh, no! Well, yeah, I guess so, but it wasn't
like that. More like a date than, than that."


She looked up at the female detective.





"Honest, ma'am! I'm not a prostitute! He
just needed my help. It was more like a loan, I guess... I'm
not making much sense, am I."


"So your husband "loaned" you out to this
Sam character to cover a bad debt or something, right?"



"Well, yeah, I guess. But when you put it like that,
it sounds so dirty. It really wasn't like that. The
dance was so nice, the band was great, and Sam is a real good
dancer."


Karin sighed to herself, in spite of her circumstances.






"Let's stay on track here, OK? So, when you wouldn't
sleep with this guy, "Sam, " after he sprung
for the dinner and the dance, he beat you up, right?"



"Oh, no, I didn't say that. We didn't go to
dinner."


Lt. Billings gritted her teeth. She wished this dunderhead
could get with the program.





"Right, no dinner. So, after the dance, right? he
got angry because you wouldn't put out him. Is that
better?"


"Well, not exactly."


She flinched at the officers exasperated glare.





"He didn't get angry at all. He was very gentle
and kind. You see, well, I kind of, well, ..." she finally
just spit it out, ". .. I asked him to spank me and tie
me up. He was really very gentle with me."


Lt. Billings stared at the young woman in disbelief.





"You asked him to do this? And you call this "gentle'?"



"Yes."


That peculiar look of a woman in love was in Karin's
eyes as she remembered her lover's affections.





"This looks like more than a spanking. How did this
happen?"


"Well, after he spanked me and, uh, stuff, we went
to a place he has up in the mountains. I, uh, I made him do this
to me. It wasn't his fault. Really, he couldn't
help it."


Lt. Billings just about choked on that one.





"You { made } him do this to you? Are you telling me you
enjoyed this, this, this beating?" she asked.


The detective was getting more incredulous with each new
revelation.





"Oh, he didn't just beat me. He tied me up real
tight - the way I like - and he fucked me a couple of times.
Oh, and he let me suck him off, too."


"Oh, he { let } you do that, too, did he?"


Even with all her experience, she would never have come
up with this story. It just kept getting better and better.
If it weren't so obvious that she was telling the truth,
she would have reserved her a room on the Psycho Ward.





"Uh-huh. I hadn't ever done that before, so he
let me try it. It was nice."


She blushed at her admissions.





The coloring of the suspect's face did not escape the
questioning woman. In fact, the girl's innocence
stirred something in her. But there was still something
missing in her story. A question they had missed. Something
so simple it was obvious. She kept on. Maybe it would turn
up.





"OK. Your husband sent you on a date with this guy,
Sam, right? Didn't he mind if you had sex with another
man?"


Karin sat stunned at that question. She had not thought
of it like that.





"Uh. I'm not sure. He told me to be very nice to
Sam and do whatever he wanted. I guessed he meant that I was
supposed to have sex with him if that was what Sam wanted.
He didn't really care if I had sex with another man,
I don't think. It's not like he never did. Besides,
we hadn't ever done it together, you know, with each
other."


"You're telling me that you and your husband
never had sex. And you were married for six months. Is that
true?"


Karin blushed again, looking down at the battered table.






"Uh-huh."


"And you're telling me that he had sex with other
women, and you knew about it?"


The detective could smell motive written all over this
now. Her estimation of the suspect's innocence was
taking a nosedive.





Karin blushed an even deeper scarlet.





"Huh-uh, " she said, shaking her head "no."



"He didn't sleep with other women. He slept with
other men. He was gay."


The room was silent as this small nuclear bomb went off.
Lt. Billings stared at the weeping widow. Where had they
missed this minor piece of information? She reviewed the
data in her head. She was sure Sgt. Hague vouched for the
guy's sexual preferences, but then again, those could
be faked in certain circumstances. Macho guys like Hague
just didn't expect guys they liked to be gay. He could
have been easily misled. She made a note to speak to him about
that.





The detective sat shaking her head. As crazy as it was, no
one in their right mind would make up or admit to a story like
that, but the marks were fresh enough to back up her story
and give her the alibi she needed. Slim as it was. They still
needed to identify and question this "Sam"
character.


Lt. Billings was going to question that bastard herself.






"You know you're going to have to stay with us
for a while, Mrs. Saunders. We'll have to check out
the things that you have told us. You seem to have an alibi
for the time, but I can't rule out the motive. I'm
truly sorry. I will see that you are not put in with the other
inmates. I think I know just the guard to assign to your case
to insure that you are left alone."


Her face was hard as she called in the frightened guard to
the small interrogation room.





She turned to the guard.





"Mrs. Saunders will be staying with us for a while.
I am making it your responsibility to see that she is not
bothered by the other guests in our "hotel, "
is that clear. You will report to me personally on this.
If I hear of one finger laid on this woman, it will be your
job. And you may very likely find yourself on the other side
of the bars. Is that understood?"


The frightened guard paled visibly. She had heard the stories
of the ruined careers this pushy bitch had left in her wake.
She turned to the still weeping woman, holding out her hand
to help her up.





"Would the solitary cell be OK, Lt. Billings? It's
empty at the moment, and right beside the guard station.
She would be safe there, ma'am, if that's fine
with you?"


Sandra Billings nodded, preoccupied with some other questions.
One question in particular. On a whim, she asked the now
excited woman, "Uh, by the way, Mrs. Saunders? Do
you know if anyone was supposed to visit your husband last
weekend?"


"I don't know. I do know he had visitors all the
time when he wasn't travelling on business. I hadn't
lived at the house for about two-three weeks. I was moved
out just after they beat me. He never introduced his visitors
to me, so I wouldn't know who they were, anyway. But
why don't you ask Bruce? He usually took care of all
of those things for Bill."


The second nuke silenced the room again.





"Uh, Bruce? Who's Bruce ..." asked the
lieutenant cautiously.


It wasn't uncommon for cornered spouses to blame the
first person to come to mind. But, she hadn't accused
him. This was the first time this name had come up. There
were beginning to be too many suspects, now. She continued,
". and what do you mean "they" beat you?
I thought your husband beat you."


"Bruce, uh, I don't know his last name. But, Bruce,
you know. Bruce is the butler. Or, at least, that's
what Bill called him. He was really Bill's lover.





He lives at the mansion. You could ask him who was there.






"Anyway, it was the two of them that strung me up in
the basement and beat me. They said it was to get me to go out
with Sam, but all they would have had to do was ask me. I know
I said that Bill beat me, but I think Bruce did most of the
actual beating, " she said, defensive of her dead
husband.


Karin also left out the part about the toilet plunger handle
.





Bells went off in Lt. Billing's brain. A lover! A new
suspect! With a motive! Hot damn! And there hadn't
been a trace of him in the house, which meant he was probably
on the run. He had a three-day head start, but she was the
long arm of the law.





Sandra Billings picked up her cellular phone and made several
calls. By the time Karin left for her cell in the woman's
wing, a full autopsy on Bill had been ordered, his physician
contacted, and a nation-wide search for the missing butler
had been initiated.





It took ten days, but all charges against Karin were dropped.
She had spent those ten days without speaking to a single
person. The only person she saw was the abusive guard, who
was so obsequious and solicitous, it made Karin wince to
see her come into with the cell with her tray of food.





She left the county facility and stood on the sidewalk outside.
She had nowhere to go, and no way to get there. Her world had
been shattered by recent events.





It was suddenly very dark outside.



































This word was chosen for it’s unusually high frequency
in erotic texts. It is marked to draw attention to when,
why and where it is used. To some, it may stimulate, to others
it’s a bore. What does your brain say?

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