Vanishing Manhood: Part 2

Vanishing Manhood: Part 2

VANISHING MANHOOD: PART 2 IN A WORLD CONTROLLED BY WOMEN, ISRAEL JENSEN STARTS TO COME APART. Based on ‘One In Ten’ by FinalStand [https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=1395985&page=submissions]. Listen to the ► Podcast [https://archive.org/download/vanishing-manhood/VanishingManhoodPart02.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. https://archive.org/download/vanishing-manhood/02Angel2.jpg [https://archive.org/download/vanishing-manhood/02Angel2.jpg] "Do you get off fucking with my head?" she grumbled. "You feel free lying to me," I said. "Why should I treat you any differently?" "I'm a, You don't care that I'm a cop; that I am trying to keep you safe?" she replied. "I have no respect for your profession," I pointed out, "or faith in your ability to keep me safe. That is the truth." She fidgeted around the door, first reaching for the door knob then stopping and half turning my way. "Can I ask you for a favor, a big favor?" she muttered. It took me nearly a minute to respond. "Unlike most women, I believe in reciprocity," I told her. "I'll listen." "Would you kiss me? Just one kiss," she whispered. "I'll fully understand if you don't want to and I'll leave if you say 'no.’" "After what we just went through, do you realize how bizarre that request is?" I queried. "I attacked you on your sofa," she finally looked at me. "Yes, I know." "Knowing how I feel about contact with women you are still asking this of me," I mused. It wasn't a question; I was trying to reason this out. "You are right," she sighed and put her hand on the door knob, ready to leave. "Not going to get your kiss?" I inquired as I stood up. "Stop screwing with me," she shook her head with her back still to me. She opened the door. "You are a woman and a cop, which is kind of redundant," I explained, "but I don't think you were ordered to spend time with me. That makes me believe that for whatever twisted reason you treat me as if I have something above my shoulders besides a smile and nice hair." Angel shut the door as I walked up to her. I cupped her jaw line tenderly in both hands before leaning in for a kiss. When my tongue darted across her lips, she opened up and let her tongue come out to play. Slowly she placed her hands on my hips, not pulling me in but showing a reluctance to let me slip away. After a minute I retreated. "Where the fuck did that come from?" Angel panted. "That was fantastic. I thought you didn't like women, or interacting with women." "Part of my therapy was making me comfortable with sex," I told her. "They taught me all kinds of things." When they said they wanted me to be a productive member of society what they really meant was that they wanted me to screw. "Thank you," she smiled. "You are welcome," I gave a weary grin. "Now, would you please leave?" "Absolutely," she nodded. When she left I leaned against the door, slid down and started to cry. The thing was, I was beginning to like Angel but I couldn't trust her because she was a woman. I desperately wanted to avoid going down that road again. Wednesday's metro trip was surprisingly intense. My only excuse was that I had not put several of the local news outlets on my 'must do first' list. I had planned to do some reading on the ride to work. I had the sickening sensation that more women were paying attention to me than normal and it didn't take them long to close in. The most unusual things they asked me was if I was 'okay', if I was 'safe' which I thought was a reference to the press conference, and if there was anything they could do. I've heard that last one before but not with that level of compassion and worry. In a strange way, I believed they thought that by hovering close around me they were protecting me, not freaking me out. I felt like a field mouse caught in a stampeded of lemmings or a hidden gazelle calf being stalked by a leopard. Then I read the local news leads and it all made sense. I had the wrong metaphor. I was a gazelle alright. I was a male gazelle and the lionesses had just figured out that unseen crocodiles had been picking off my brethren at the watering hole. A subliminal panic was setting in. It wasn't a rational response; such things rarely are. Statistically speaking, there weren't enough men to go around. That was the cold, logical fact that women had learned to deal with, but, most women believed they would be one of the lucky ones, get a male and pass on their genetic heritage. This morning, the main story was that nearly 2,000 men in my age group had gone missing and that the local, state and federal authorities had no leads. Technically, the missing were a very tiny number. It wasn't the number that mattered to the women around me; it was the fact that I symbolized their vanishing opportunity to 'succeed' as a female member of the human race. Oh yeah, and they even had the local number of male disappearances right, 24. The women had scanned my wrist band that held my sexual identity and verified that I had no attachments. Their instinct was to protect me and hold me close. Not one of them asked me if this was what I wanted, though I could tell some of them noticed the fear in my eyes. The desperate relief with which I regarded Debra when she approached me on the metro made me feel cowardly ill. "Debra," I choked out. There was some raw hunger in her countenance, but also some genuine concern over my state of agitation. "Hey, Israel," she smiled. "Can I, uh, sit with you?" I hopped out of my metro seat and let Debra take my place. None of the dozen women hovering around abandoned me though. "Debra?" one of the more aggressive ladies asked, I think her name was Ambrosia. "Yesterday, Debra? Is it true he went down on you right off the bat?" "Yes and it was divine," Debra giggled. It was too much to hope that either woman would respect my privacy, or private acts. "The actual sex was even better." "And that was in a bathroom stall," Ambrosia murmured. "Think about what he would be like on a real bed." Debra sighed dreamily. The other women kept crowding in. Common wisdom was that passive women didn't get a man. They had to get out there and get a male's interest then rope him in. Men could play hard to get, but they were never 'not interested'; that was crazy talk. Thus my shivering was interpreted as repressed sexual tension, not stark raving terror. Did I have time for something this morning? No, I was already in trouble for being late yesterday. What about this evening? I was buried in work. This weekend? I was attending a Complex Party, neighbors only and I felt obliged to go with the woman who invited me. The irony of me 'escaping' to work was not lost on me. Security took extra care of me going in. No, they weren't gentle. They seemed to believe I had developed the audacity to kill myself and take a few of them with me as I did. This probably had more to do with the revelation of my 'encounter' in college, no one in authority would call it rape, so I was now considered worthy of special attention. They couldn't call me unstable; I had to do something stupid first. Back in therapy my doctor told me I was too good looking to be ignored. She told me that was a good thing because it would make women want to protect and nurture me. I would have plenty of partners and make them very happy. I'd do my part and save the World. I have no idea how many of those sorority girls I knocked up, if any. I was still horrified by the idea that I'd left any of my progeny under any of their care. I could have checked online but since I was powerless to do anything, I didn't torture myself with the knowledge. I managed to slip into the office with seconds to spare. Bethany came by to check, looking a bit agitated. "What you said yesterday was uncalled for," she broke down and stated. "Please, Bethany," I groaned. "Do we,” I stopped myself. I was getting nowhere. "I was really tired," I tried again. "It was an emotional outburst after a stressful day." "In that case, I forgive you," Bethany smiled. "You can make it up to me by taking me out to dinner tonight." No, I would rather chew on power lines. "I'm interested in someone else," I didn't quite lie. "That woman who came by Monday?" Bethany lectured me. "She's way too old and not really good looking enough. Remember what Miss Silverhorn said, you only date attractive girls from here on out." Kristi was what, thirty? When did that become too old? "Detective Kristi isn't that old," I muttered. "You can do better," she crowded me in my cubicle. In the old days, I heard there were things like staplers and letter openers that cubicle workers could use to defend themselves. Everything at my workstation was bolted down, thus useless as a tool to drive Bethany away. "I have to go to the bathroom," I evaded. "Okay," Bethany purred, "but I expect you to take me out to dinner." I fled the room like the eviscerated shell I had devolved into. Shelter came in the form of a stall, sitting on the toilet seat, knees drawn up to my chin. It wasn't courage that helped me fight back the tears. It was the hard won knowledge that tears left the eyes puffy and that would lead to women asking me even more questions I didn't want to answer. Bethany was back at her own station when I returned. After that, I buried myself in my work. My co-workers stopped by to check up on me with essentially the same inquiries as the metro crowd, but with the added bonus of wanting to exchange contact information with me. This time I surrendered. I had little doubt they couldn't wrangle a favor with someone in Human Resources to give it to them anyway. At 9:05, my day got worse. A call was forwarded to me. It was the reporter from yesterday's press conference. "Israel Jensen," I answered. "Eloise Granger from The Sentinel," she answered. "We chatted briefly yesterday. Do you recall what we discussed?" "Yes. I see your story went national. Congratulations," I said. "Do you still feel safe?" she hinted at something I couldn't figure out. "Sure, why wouldn't I?" I hedged. "With all the disappearances, I wasn't positive what kind of spin you would put on it," I could see her grin on the screen mocking me. "If you are fishing for a statement, you are not going to get one," I countered. "Really?" she snorted. "So four more men in your age range going missing last night doesn't affect you at all?" Oh Mother-fucking God! "Four nation-wide?" I mumbled. "No; 96 nationwide," she supplied. "Only four in the city. We were lucky." "Right before the story broke?" I pieced things together. "My goodness," she laughed. "A man capable of independent rational thought. How unique." My rage was yelling at me to say 'blow it out your ass', but that could get me in trouble. "Well, if I don't show up to work tomorrow you may infer that I am less than pleased with law enforcements progress on this matter," I met her sarcasm with sarcasm of my own, "but for now, I'm not worried." Miss Granger laughed again. I figured she was a Miss and not a Mrs. because married women tended to take great pride in their status, kind of rubbing it in people's noses. "Can I quote you on that?" she chuckled. "If I say 'no' will it stop you?" I sighed. "No, but since I'm cultivating you as a contact I thought I would be polite," Granger snickered. "Is that what this is?" I muttered. "In that case, have a nice day and goodbye," I said before hanging up. After taking a deep breath, I fired off a message to Miss Silverhorn with the gist of my talk with Miss Granger. I was a civil servant with my career skating on the edge. The last thing I needed was for my boss to believe I was leaking anything to the press. Right after I received confirmation from Francesca, a message from Miss Chen arrived. “Your presence is requested at a private function this Saturday at 9 p.m. Dress casually. A car service will pick you up at your door at 8:15 p.m., Bi Chen.” The only thing I could decide on right away was that there was no way I was going. Come on, no address, clothes that could be easily removed and no hint on when I could expect to get home. “Thank you for the polite invitation but I must regretfully decline. I have a previous engagement for the date in question. Sincerely, Israel Jensen.” I had no illusion this was the end of it. Refusing women with power and privilege rarely ended well. I had to plot out my next move. “Mr. Jensen, the Mayor's office would truly appreciate you reconsidering our generous offer to engage your time this Saturday evening. Best wishes, Bi Chen.” Not only was that a polite threat, it didn't cross the frontier of sexual harassment, yet. I had to think of the best way to tell her that I would rather spend a night in a coffin full of spiders. “Miss Chen, my current circumstances make it impossible for me to break my appointment at this time. I hope you have a nice evening. Israel Jensen.” My evasion was total crap. It was a complex party; undoubtedly a casual affair that I could exit after a brief appearance. I was unsure how Miss Chen would penetrate my deception but I'm sure she'd try. Twenty minutes later I was called to Miss Silverhorn's office. To emphasize how fucked my situation was, Bethany's look as I passed by was full of concern and sympathy. "Israel, Miss Diaz wants you to attend a party Saturday evening," Francesca stated when I entered her office without even looking up from her screen. "Is that advice, a suggestion, or an order?" I countered. Now Francesca looked up. "It is advice," she mused. "You are pretending to be rather pugnacious today." "Advice noted. Can I go back to work now?" I asked. "Fine," she sighed. "Consider this a suggestion. Going to this private affair will help your career." "I seriously doubt there will be anyone there I want to meet," I replied. I was clearly losing my mind at this point. "Isobel Diaz wants you to be there, Israel. I seriously think you should reconsider," Miss Silverhorn stressed the point. "That's an extra reason for me not to go," I muttered. "If you make it an order, I want it in writing. Make a note that you are telling me to prostitute myself to your superiors. Whoever's career this helps, it won't be mine so stop pedaling that angle." "Israel, your attitude hasn't improved since yesterday," she regarded me. "That's okay. I didn't want to sleep with you anyway," I noted. "What?" Francesca balked. "Where did that come from?" "Since you don't respect me as a writer, I assumed you wanted me for sex," I stared. "Have you lost your damn mind?" she studied me. "Probably. I thought that treating you like a walking vagina with attachments would help you understand what it is to be treated like a cock with a voice box," I responded. "That's not your job," she pointed out. "Neither is providing sexual services to campaign contributors," I stated deadpan. There was no immediate response to that. "May I go back to work now?" "Go," she dismissed me. I heard her snort with amusement as I left. I wasn't sure how I made it back to my desk. The next few hours flew by. Wanda, one of my co-workers, ordered us some Indian take-out because the shit storm from the mass kidnapping story was making the group create a variety of spin to deal with the 'crisis.’ I was only doing proof-reading but it kept my mind busy and my emotions bottled up. At 1:30 Miss Silverhorn came by my desk to see how I was doing. The Mayor wanted me to stand with her at a press conference at 4:30 and Francesca wanted to assess if I was up for it. She wasn't able to judge my current level of stability by looks alone. "If it wasn't for the Mayor's insistence, I'd keep you back this time," she informed me. "And don't even think about refusing," she added. "That never occurred to me," I told her. "This is part of my job description as outlined by you on Monday. You don't need to worry. I'll do my job." "I hope so. The Mayor isn't going to take the hit if you screw this up, I will," she told me. I had no real comeback for that. In a quirk of our culture, I could only be held to so much accountability because no group of women would believe a man had real authority. The rest of the experience went pretty much as expected until I came out of the bathroom after 'prepping' myself for the stage. Selma, Miss Silverhorn's second in command, began chatting away at me while taking quick peeks at the bulge in my pants. Once past that constant uncomfortable feeling that I was marginalized as a human being, I realized she was giving me a total catalog of useless political tripe to regurgitate to the press if questioned. I didn't mind (too much) being treated like I was stupid, but I hated acting like a moron. I had never completely abdicated my sense of self-worth. I had more than my share of days where I doubted the wisdom of struggling on. I kept going on anyway and that was why I wouldn't be parroting this garbage if the situation came up. It came up five questions into the press conference. This time they didn't seek the Mayor's permission. A lady for Global News Network fired one right at me. "So, Mr. Jensen, after yesterday's boast, how do you feel now?" Maribel Cartwright challenged me. I was still in possession of enough of my faculties to look to the Mayor for permission first. She grudgingly gave it. "I am heartened by the willingness of authorities at all levels of government to take this to the press as they work on this dilemma threatening our society," I responded calmly. "No, I do not feel as safe today as I did yesterday," I imagined the Mayor cringing and Miss Diaz stabbing virtual daggers in my back. "No one feels safe when threatened by a hurricane. That's living in denial. Panicking, fleeing to the hills or cowering in your basement are also fruitless. To survive as a group, we band together, utilize all our resources and see this crisis through to the end. I am not aware of any agency holding back on this matter," I declared. "I do not feel safe but I do know that the government, from the Mayor and city council on up, is the only true option that can restore this situation so that all men can feel safe eventually," I concluded. I didn't feel like an idiot. I felt like a traitor to my gender. Logically I understood that screaming at my brethren that the women couldn't defend us so we would have to defend ourselves was pointless, the establishment would simply sweep my statement away as the ramblings of a deranged crack-pot. So I played nice and kept my job. I fielded a few more questions after that. The final one was almost too much. "Mr. Jensen, those are very tight pants you are wearing. You seem happy to see us this afternoon," she chuckled. Yeah, I shivered. For a second I was back to being that gazelle calf, but this time I was surrounded by a pack of hyenas. "I'm in a room full of beautiful ladies," I forced a grin. "What do you think?" The press corps laughed. The pretty boy made a 'funny.’ That was the end of the focus on me. After the conference ended and I entered the elevator, Selma lit into me. "What the hell was that?" she snapped. "Weren't you listening to the approved responses?" I took a deep breath; 3, 2, 1. "

Vanishing Manhood: Part 1

VANISHING MANHOOD: PART 1 A MAN IN THE WORLD, WERE ONLY A FEW MALES REMAIN. Based on ‘One In Ten’ by FinalStand [https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=1395985&page=submissions]. Listen to the ► Podcast [https://archive.org/download/vanishing-manhood/VanishingManhoodPart01.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. [https://archive.org/download/vanishing-manhood/01israel1.jpg] Fear is a terrible seducer. It steals you away from the rest of the World. I pulled up to my new apartment complex and groaned. It was a two story building shaped as a big U with a large swimming pool in the middle and a gym situated at the open end. Not for the first time I wished I had paid the hefty bribe and moved into a 'married couples' building and not this 'singles' complex the Housing Authority had saddled me with. Head down, I began unloading my rental van and lugging my few belongings to my second story condo. I avoided other residents until I had my third box at my door. I wasn't stupid enough to leave my door open so I had to fiddle with the knob while balancing the box with one knee. "Hi there," a female voice caught me off guard. "Do you need help with that?" Now I'm no idiot. Sure, I had my long-sleeve shirt buttoned down, tight jeans that would be difficult to remove quickly and a strong belt on, but I wasn't inviting a strange woman into my dwelling. The odds of getting a conviction of female on male rape these days was nearly impossible. The assumption was that if I invited the girl in it was because I wanted to get fucked, essentially, I was asking for it. "No, thank you. I've got this," I replied politely. "I turned and saw an attractive woman with dirty-blonde hair, around five-ten and athletically built. Her grey eyes bore into me and, while her smile remained plastered on her face, it grew frosty. "Bracelet," she requested politely. It wasn't something I could refuse, it was the law. I had to give my identity to any female of legal age. For the law's sake, all men had quarter-inch metal bands attached to their right wrists. The integrated chip was updated every twenty-four hours and held all my vital statistics. I was about to put the box down when she placed a hand underneath it. "We can do that inside if you like," she suggested. "That's very nice of you, but I don't know you," I evaded. I put the box down and extended my right arm toward her. She pulled out her phone, scanned my bracelet and then smirked. "Single White Male, twenty-one, no attachments and you haven't had sex in the current cycle," she mused. "I can help you with that," her demeanor warmed up slightly, mistakenly guessing that not having sex yet so late in this 28 day cycle I would be more receptive to her advances. All women liked to believe men were willing and eager to do our part in the procreative process. I had certainly never been asked about it. "Thanks, but I've had a long drive. I need to finish getting the van unloaded and then unpack everything," I tried to be as nice as possible. That was not the answer she was looking for. She looked back at her phone and scrolled through something. I took the opportunity to open my door and quickly pushed the box inside with my foot. "You have been paying the fine for the last four cycles," she noted with critical interest. It was a demanding, dominant look. I couldn't tell if she was going to challenge my masculinity or make me cringe in fear at the exposure of my confidential information. "Wait," I gulped. "How do you know that?" She shifted her jacket aside and showed me her badge, and gun. She was a Metropolitan Police Officer, oh shit. Sexual harassment by police officers on men was frighteningly common. "Yes," I replied promptly. "Yes, I have." "What's wrong with you?" she questioned me. "Are you homosexual? Can't you perform?" The fine for male homosexuality was far more crippling than merely abstaining for a short while. Not having sex with a woman for six straight months was grounds for the violation of my civil rights and we both knew it. The plethora of male enhancement drugs and surgery made me not performing a joke. The whole issue of paying fines for abstaining from sex was confidential for a reason. It pissed many women off that men could still buy their way out of spending time with them. In the past, when that information had been generally available on our bracelets, some females had taken it upon themselves to 'teach' the offending male a lesson. To put a stop to this practice, the information had been reclassified as confidential. "I really don't want to answer that," I said softly. "Please, it is personal." "Very well, Mr. Jensen, or would you prefer I call you Israel?" she studied me. "Thank you," I stammered. Her grin grew as she pulled out her card and thrust it into my hand. "Detective Angel Kristi," she informed me. "My roommate and I live right across the hall. Her name is Roni and she's a paramedic. I'll come by and check in on you when I get off shift." With that she headed downstairs. I took a deep breath. I had no illusions that her checking up on me was something I could refuse. I managed to get the rest of my stuff inside before my second encounter. Two girls came at me with a bottle of tequila and a Tupperware container with all kinds of food in it. One was a tight-bodied Asian woman, a slender 5 foot 3, with black hair down to her shoulder blades. The other was a black girl, around 5 foot 8, and built like a female volleyball player. "Welcome neighbor," the black girl greeted me enthusiastically. "I'm Aniqua and this is my roommate, Kuiko." Kuiko waved with her free hand. "Hey, Kuiko and Aniqua, I'm Israel Jensen" I gave them my best noncommittal grin. "Thank you." "Sure," Kuiko stepped right up to me. "Is someone helping you unpack?" Since the odds of me having a male roommate were miniscule (two guys in one domicile only happened in pornos and sitcoms). We both knew she was really asking if I had a girlfriend. That probably would have saved me, but they might have asked permission before getting me drunk and dragging me off for a fuck session. I decided to save them the trouble of scanning me. "I'm a single White male; no attachments," I sighed. It took Aniqua a second to figure out what I wasn't saying. "Bracelet," she 'suggested.’ I offered, she scanned and she took a deep intake of breath. "You haven't had sex this cycle yet, oh goodie!" "That's," gulp, "nice, but I'm exhausted from the move. Can I catch up with you ladies later?" "Damn," Kuiko looked upset, and very frustrated. That gave me a sinking feeling. "Am I the only guy in the complex?" I worried. "Yes," Aniqua confirmed excitedly. "You are not only the only one here, but the only one on the entire block." Oh fucking God! This couldn't be happening to me. When I was a freshman in college, a girl I trusted took me to a sorority party. She promised me she was only showing me off to her girl-pals. I was fucked raw for an entire weekend and they got it all on video. Like an idiot, I went to Campus Security. They told me 'girls will be girls' and what did I expect going to a sorority party. As I left in utter humiliation, they joked about me having a nice ass. I never trusted a girl again. Once a month I picked a random girl on campus and asked her to fuck. I never got turned down and I never slept with a girl who hit on me. In my junior year my Mother died and I received a small amount of money in an insurance policy. After that, I skated the law by paying the fine for five months at a time. The police came to visit me and I had court appointed psychiatrist appointments (again). Technically, I was still a citizen so they couldn't force me to take aphrodisiacs. I met a guy who went down that road and he was a mess, hardly able to say 'no' to any woman, or women, he met. "I really appreciate the gifts and the information but I really need to get my apartment in order before starting work tomorrow. Don't want to mess up my first day on the job," I informed them hoping they'd take the hint and back off. "What's your job and where are you working?" Kuiko inquired. "Public Relations for the Office of the Mayor," I confessed. "Oh, you are political," Aniqua drew the wrong conclusion. "No," I kept smiling. "I work for the city." "I bet the reporting pool is going to love you," Kuiko sighed. It was not lost on me that Chicago's chief executive might have chosen my application because of that. Essentially, I was a pretty face to put the best face possible on her policies. "Well, I hope they will respect that I was top of my class," I suggested. The girls giggled as if what I was proposing was absurd. "Oh, you're adorable," Aniqua patted my shoulder. "You are going to be so much fun to have around." "The last guy was a really fun slut," Kuiko sighed. "Then one day the poor little moron thought he was in love and got married to a woman who wouldn't share." "Yeah, some women are no fun," I gulped. "On that note though, I really have to go," I backed into my apartment. "Bye now," they waved in unison. As the door shut I heard Kuiko say, "See the chest on that guy? He's got some real stamina," she mused. "I hope he has a really big cock," Aniqua added. "Joseph was okay but he was barely five inches. Let's go online and see what his reviews are like." I lost track of their voices as they wandered down the hall. I busied myself unpacking my meager belongs in my pre-furnished pad. I paced the place. I checked to see if the windows would open, but they were all stationary. If I wanted out, I'd have to kick a window open. All the interior doors were flimsy and the locks cheap. With every revelation, my heart sank deeper into despair. This didn't feel like a home. It felt like a holding cell with a comforting veneer. I didn't like being in a place that had only one way in and out. My history left me like that. In the end I went for my old college trick of moving my dresser against my bedroom door before I went to bed with my baseball bat. I would have rather have had a gun. Men had to jump through hoops to get one and with my 'mental' history I knew that wasn't going to happen. Maybe they were afraid I'd blow my brains out and that wouldn't do while I still had two working testicles. Despite the strange surroundings I managed to get to sleep without my sleeping pill which had been prescribed for me. I hated taking those pills. They left me feeling like I was walking in a fog. I woke up a bit past midnight, feeling that something was wrong. I didn't know what it was until I heard the doorbell ring, again, I assumed. Fuck that noise, I wasn't answering the door after midnight. Hell, I didn't want to open my door after dark. There were two more rings then I guessed they gave up. When the door knob turned, the brass candlestick I had placed on it fell. I grabbed my phone and called 9 1 1. The operator kept me on the line while letting me know that a patrol car was on the way. I nearly lost it. The intruder tried to get in my bedroom, bumping against the dresser. "Israel, it is Angel," the intruder informed me. I thought about what to tell the 9 1 1 operator but there was no way I could see to win this. I informed the operator that there was a police officer already here with me, who she was and that the intruder must have been scared off. A few seconds later, Detective Kristi's phone rang and she verified my version of events. "Are you going to let me in?" she asked. "Do I have a choice?" I replied. "Sure, but I read your file and I think we need to talk," she countered. I didn't say anything for the longest time. "I'll go if you want me to," she finally spoke up. "Are you going to keep coming back?" I asked. "Yes," she answered. I sighed and moved the dresser aside but I kept my bat. Angel came into my room and I backed to the bed. For a second, in my fatigue, I sat on my bed. When I realized where I was, I shot back up. She would assume my waiting on the bed meant I was 'receptive.’ There was a curl to Angel's lip as she regarded me. "I would like to talk to you," she repeated. "We could talk out on the sofa if you prefer." That was a ruse. I'd been held down and screwed on all kinds of furniture as well as the floor, carpet and the dirt. No place was safe. "We can talk in here," I allowed. "I would feel better if you put down the bat," she requested. "Are you going to put down your gun?" I countered. Surprisingly, she un-holstered her weapon and put it on the dresser. I felt obliged to lean the bat against the wall. It was well within arm's reach. My action was a concession to a cop not a sign of trust. Detective Kristi walked toward me and sat on the bed, patting the space next to her. I remained standing next to my bat. "I know what happened to you when you were sixteen," she said softly. When I was sixteen, I was walking home from a date with my girlfriend (I was normal then) when I saw a woman having trouble on the side of the road. I stopped to help her only to realize she had a body in the trunk. I found myself staring into the eyes of killer with a gun. She quizzed me about whether I was a good boy or not. I told her I was coming home from a date with my first girlfriend. She asked if we had sex. I confessed that she'd only given me a blowjob because I was unready for complete intercourse. That admission saved my life but led to 87 days of hell. She kept me in her basement where she raped me at least once a day and sometimes three or four times. When she wasn't raping me, she was luring male prostitutes and dancers home and killing them for being 'impure.’ She was a female police officer out on permanent disability (she had been shot in the stomach and lost both ovaries). The experience left me awfully traumatized. I was ordered into therapy and was awarded an eighteen month exemption on sexual conduct. The therapy cured me of my terror, right up until I went to college. I took the psychological training I had learned after my abduction which encouraged me to reintegrate into society and tried to be normal. I met a girl two years older who aggressively pursued me. I reciprocated, we dated and I thought we really had a mutually supportive relationship. I was conditioned by the whole social or civil system to believe my girlfriend would keep me from harm. That systemic subliminal conditioning convinced me to trust my girlfriend and that led me to being an unwilling participant in an orgy at her sorority. My ensuing encounter with campus security effectively eliminated any intentions I may have had about women and relationships. "Well, you know what happened to me," I replied quietly. "Why is that relevant now?" "You seemed to have transited the recovery program rather well but when you went to college you seem to have relapsed," Angel stated. So much for the confidentiality of my medical files, I thought. "Oh," I stared at her, "you are now an expert on male rape and recovery?" "No, but I showed your file to a co-worker who does specialize in it," Angel told me. "She says your behavior is abnormal." "Good for her. Thanks for prying into my private life and medical files," I grew angry. "I can't tell you how much I enjoy having a total stranger rip my life bare for your and your co-worker's enjoyment," I added. "Is this the point where you comfort me in my grief and then I perform for you?" "No Israel, I only came by to talk," she took a deep breath. "You don't need to be seeing women as the enemy," Angel went on. "That's not healthy. You need to trust women again like you did before your rape." "What? My complaint to Campus Security didn't make it into my permanent record, what a crime," I joked bitterly. "Your fucking therapy worked, Cop," I grumbled. "I trusted a girl in college and was raped for a weekend by her and about forty of her sorority sisters. The video was all over the university for months. Since I was so clearly a whore, girls felt it was okay to touch and grab me when and where ever. Why exactly should I trust when all therapy taught me was a lie?" "Israel, you cannot live your life in fear," Angel sounded intense. "Women are everywhere. Besides, therapy wasn't a lie. Most women aren't monsters and respect men and their rights." "Listen, Officer Kristi, I do my part," I glared. "I have the required amount of sex or pay the fine. I'm not a subversive. I don't frequent subversive internet sites. I follow the law." "You know that's not enough, Israel," Angel stood up. "Our youth demographic is in decline and before long Congress is going to expand on the Gender Inequality Act. Men will be required to contribute more; more sex with more partners and plural marriages." "Why are you telling me this?" I hung my head. "I think you are a nice guy, Israel," Angel rubbed my left bicep. "I don't want to see you go under." "The fact that I am the only man in a block has nothing to do with it," I stated in a neutral voice. "I'm not a saint, but I'll be your friend if you need one," Angel offered. "Yeah, right," I let my bitterness boil forth for a second, "since the police have been my friends all my life. The police are women looking after women and men had better watch out unless we want to find ourselves 'wards of the state.'" I immediately regretted telling her the truth. "See Israel, those are the wrong kinds of thoughts that can get you in trouble," she warned me with enough compassion to scare me. "We are having a party by the pool Saturday at noon. Why don't you show up?" Angel suggested. "It will do you good to get out there and deal with this problem of yours head-on." "Okay," I felt dead inside. "I'll be there." "Don't be like that," Angel sighed in exasperation. "It will be fun. No one will act inappropriately. You'll have a good time." "Let me guess," I pulled away. "You'll be there to protect me." "I know you don't believe me. Just show up and you will see that you don't need protection. If you feel uncomfortable, let me know," Angel tried to keep the warmth in her voice. "Thank you," I lied. This whole interview was worse than a waste of time. "I need to get some sleep so could you please leave now." "Learn to relax a little, Israel," Angel warned me again, but she did leave. I followed along. At the door she handed me my candlestick. "Nice trick," she grinned. "Yeah, but now that you know it, I'll have to think of something else," I admitted. She shook her head in disappointment but left without comment. The next morning I woke up bright and early. I wanted to make a good impression and show up early to work. I made my way to the metro stop with all the normal precautions. I wished it was winter, not summer, so that I could wear heavier clothes and not stand out. As it was, I wore a light overcoat despite the high being forecast to be around 80 degrees. I also kept headphones and kept my notepad close to my face reading a book online so I didn't have to make eye contact with any women. To my dismay, the only other man at the station appeared to be around fifty-five and exhausted. Something was clearly wrong. The Housing Authority normally made sure that single men and women were put in close proximity. Something was definitely w

A Quick Midnight Dip

A QUICK MIDNIGHT DIP CHERYL’S NAKED SWIM ON A HOT NIGHT TURNS HER HOTTER. Based on a post by Ashson [https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=1445967&page=submissions]. Listen to the ►Podcast [https://archive.org/download/summer-shorts/QuickMidnightDip.mp3] at Steamy Stories [http://feeds.feedburner.com/Steamy-Stories]. [https://archive.org/download/summer-shorts/QuickMidnightDip.jpg] I love hot sunny days. You can get away with wearing almost nothing, knowing all the boys are watching you. You can go swimming or take a pleasant walk in the country (as long as you choose a suitably shaded trail). Sunny days are the best. There is one problem with hot sunny days. They tend to be followed by hot, mucky, nights, and they’re the pits. You’re too hot and sweaty to sleep and too tired not to and you have a dreadful night and wake up grumpy. Turn on the air conditioner, I hear you say. Then you’re a trifle cooler and kept awake by the insist drone of the air conditioner. Whisper quiet, they say. A very loud whisper if you ask me, pitched in a voice that carries it throughout the house. This particular night I was trying to sleep without using an air conditioner. The heat and humidity were winning. I grumbled my way out of bed and over to the window, hoping that if I leaned out I might catch a faint breeze. I had mixed luck there. I didn’t find a breeze but I did spot the swimming pool next door, full of cool, calming, cleansing, water. Why not go for a quick dip, I asked myself? Why not indeed? The Adams’s were away on vacation and not expected back for another week. No-one was there. I knew this because my mother had the key and checked the place every so often. I could slip next door and have a nice refreshing dip. The exercise and the coolness would help me get to sleep afterwards. I was about to grab my bikini but then I thought the hell with it. There wouldn’t be anyone around and even if there was it was night. No-one would see me. I slipped out of the house and went next door. Initially I sat on the edge of the pool, just dangling my feet in the water. Even that much contact with the cool water was enough to feel refreshing. I was wearing baby-doll pyjamas, scraps of material that weighed nothing. It was a job of seconds to shed them and then I was in the pool. I swam a little and then floated a little, luxuriating in the coolness. It wasn’t nearly as dark as I’d thought it would be, what with a clear sky and a full moon. I could actually see quite well. Still, I was safe from observation. When I’d looked from my window the pool had been shadowy. I felt I could safely assume that the same would apply to anyone else who looked out of their window at midnight, not that there would be too many people doing that. I was just floating drowsily, thinking that I really should get out and go back to bed. I got a real shock when someone spoke to me. “Hi, Cheryl. Looks like great minds think alike.” I promptly tried to drown myself but after a bit of swearing and floundering I found myself standing in water that wasn’t too deep and still covered me to chest high. Looking around I saw Jordan and Brendan standing by the steps of the pool, smiling at me. What was worse was the fact that they were both wearing bathing shorts. “What are you doing here?” I demanded. I know, silly question. What did I think they were doing seeing both of them were dressed for swimming? “Take a guess,” said Jordan. “Go on. Take a wild stab at the reason we’re here.” “You’re going swimming,” I said. “Well, not with me, you’re not. Go hop in the deep end and I’ll depart and leave you to it.” “Now don’t be like that, Cheryl. We wouldn’t dream of depriving you of your swim. If you don’t want company in the pool we’ll just wait here until you’re ready to go. That’s fair and reasonable, isn’t it Jordan.” “I have to agree with you, Brendan. That sounds like a plan to me.” The two oafs just stood there smiling. “Ah, look, boys, I’m not exactly dressed for male company. Do you mind moving elsewhere while I get out?” “Cheryl,” exclaimed Brendan. “Don’t tell me you’re skinny dipping. I’m shocked. Truly shocked. Aren’t you shocked, Jordan?” “I am, Brendan. Deeply shocked. To think that sweet little Cheryl would go skinny dipping at night. In someone else’s pool at that.” “All right, cut the clown act. It’s not funny. I’ll admit you have me at a disadvantage. Now will you please just back off for a few moments?” “The girl has a point, Brendan,” Jordan said, sounding thoughtful. “It’s almost criminal the disadvantage she has, being naked and all. How about we even the playing field a little?” Call me suspicious but I didn’t trust them one little bit. I was right not to. Brendan nodded at Jordan’s comment and then both of them dropped their bathing shorts, leaving them as naked as me. Nakeder, even, as a pair of erections were standing out and shining in the moonlight. I suddenly felt so hot that I almost expected the water to start boiling around me. Oh lord, how could I even look in their direction without seeing those things sticking out? “Do you mind?” I gasped out. “Will you please have the common decency to just back off and let me get out?” “Um, no,” said Brendan, with Jordan promptly seconding that. “Feel free to hop out. We won’t look, will we, Brendan?” “Ah, I don’t know about you but I’ll certainly be looking,” Brendan said. “You saw how fine she looked just floating there. Imagine how good she’ll look standing in front of us.” My face was burning. How long had they been standing there watching me? “How about you come on out? We’ll look, but we won’t touch.” “That doesn’t apply to you,” added Jordan. “You can both look and touch. We won’t object.” Despite myself my eyes dropped to their erections. I bet they wouldn’t object if I touched them. I felt myself getting all hot again. “I’m not getting out while you two stand there. You’d probably, ah, grab me or something.” “Are you implying that we might grab you with nefarious intentions?” asked Brendan, sounding a little insulted. He turned to look at Jordan. “Nefarious intentions means she’s scared we might try to rape her,” he explained.“ “I knew that,” said Jordan. “It just goes to show she’s not as dumb as she looks.” “I beg your pardon?” I snarled. Dumb as I look indeed. “Ooh, bad move Jordan,” said Brendan with a smirk. “That just came out wrong,” Jordan protested. “I was just trying to point out that she’s very astute in assessing what our intentions are.” In other words they intended to pounce as soon as I got out of the pool. I was in a little spot of bother here. “You’re an idiot, Jordan,” Brendan told him. “Why don’t you just invite her here so we can fuck her?” “Oh, right. We can do that because she’s eighteen now,” said Jordan. “Um, Cheryl, would you please get out of the pool and join us so we can make love to you? We’d really appreciate it. We’ll even let you pick the positions.” Was he for real? He couldn’t be that dumb. As a matter of fact I knew he wasn’t. He was really highly intelligent. So why the dumb question? “I’ll scream if you don’t go away,” I warned them. “No, I don’t think you will,” Brendan said. “Why not?” “Because when we run away we’ll take those with us,” he pointed to my baby-doll pyjamas, “and you’ll be trying to explain to people why you’re standing out here naked and screaming. Everyone will be talking about it for months.” I gave him a nasty look and he just smiled. “Well, we seem to be at a bit of a stand-off,” Jordan said. “There’s really only one way to resolve this.” “You’re leaving?” I asked hopefully and he laughed. “Ah, no. Just stay where you are for a moment.” With that he stepped down into the pool and started walking towards me. At least one good thing would come of that, I thought viciously. His blasted cock will shrink in the cold water. He just walked towards me as casually as though he was walking on the grass. I waited to see what he would do which was a little mistake on my part. I expected him to stop in front of me and try and coax me out of the water. He didn’t stop. He took one step too many and my naked body was plastered against his, his arm going around me to hold me firmly against him. Not only that, but the cold water wasn’t doing the right thing. I could feel his erection, hard as a rock and pressed against my tummy. “I thought cold water would, ah, um.” I faltered, not quite able to say what I wanted to. “Have a deflating effect on me?” he asked. “Not likely when there’s a lovely naked girl right there in front of me. Time to leave the water now.” “If you try and drag me out of the pool I will kick and bite and scream and hit and scratch,” I warned him. “And shift that thing away from me.” “I have no intention of dragging you out of the pool,” he said, a smile on his face. The hand on my back dropped down to my bottom, pulling me a little more firmly against him. His other hand promptly joined it, both hands now clutching the cheeks of my bottom. “Nice bottom,” he said, and lifted. In the water I guess I weighed nothing at all, the water bearing my weight. When he lifted I popped up out of the water, my breasts now on full display, or they would have been if they weren’t plastered against him. On top of that I was now somewhat higher where his erection was concerned. It wasn’t pressing against my tummy but between my legs, legs that I was holding firmly together. “Put me down,” I gasped, my hands grabbing his shoulders to hold myself steady. “In a moment. Let your legs drift apart. Bring them around me.” “But, but if I do that…” My voice trailed off. “If you do that I’ll put you down, as requested,” he said, and I could feel him silently laughing. “I’ll just bet you will. You’ll put me down on top of your stupid erection.” “Now don’t you go insulting my erection,” he grumbled. “It’s the only one I’ve got. The term you want is thick, not stupid. Your legs,” he tacked on as a reminder. I looked at him and considered what I knew of him and Brendan. All things considered they were a pair of nice boys. Would they really rape me if I actively resisted? They wouldn’t. They just wouldn’t do that. All I had to do was scream or start fighting and they’d back off. So what did I do? I let my legs drift apart, the buoyancy of the water lifting them at the same time. I had no doubt whatsoever that Jordan could tell what I’d done, mainly because he would feel his erection slipping between my legs. I know I felt it. He knew alright. He started lowering me and his cock was pressing up between my legs, seeking my slit, eager to get somewhere nice and warm. He was rocking his hips slightly, dragging the head of his cock back and forth along my slit. He seemed to know when it was settled against my vaginal passage as he stopped rocking and started pushing. I found myself slowly settling down onto his cock as it steadily rose up into me. I could feel it, scraping against the sides of my passage, pushing forward to make more room for itself, going in deeper with each passing moment. I could feel heat exploding out of me, flooding my loins, welcoming this stranger into me. I automatically locked my legs around his waist, staring at him, slightly shocked. I was having trouble believing that I’d let him do that, but I certainly had. When he was satisfied that I was comfortably settled on him he turned around and waded back to the edge of the pool. That felt so strange, being carried through the water while riding on his cock. It was even stranger when he went up the steps leading out of the pool. Each step he took seemed to grind his cock into me a little bit more, jolting me. Out of the pool he walked off the concrete surrounding the pool and onto the grass. He was deliberately bouncing me as he walked, sending additional little thrills through me, blast him. Once he was on the grass he stopped and knelt down, tilting me back until I was lying on the grass with him on top of me. That was what he’d been waiting for. His hands came snaking up to grab hold of my breasts and his cock was pumping into me. His hips started working hard, driving his erection deep, with my hips working just as hard as I pushed up to meet it. As far as I was concerned I was not going to be a supine victim. If I was getting screwed then I’d make sure I did my own measure of screwing. I couldn’t help feeling that it’s a pity men don’t have breasts that I could play with the way Jordan was playing with mine. With Jordan on me having his fun Brendan decided to come over and sit on the ground next to us, watching us get it on and waiting for his turn (if I permitted it). I promptly had an evil thought. Men may not have breasts that we can grab a hold of but it seemed to me that there was a rather nice erection right there within reach. My hand reached and you should have heard the startled squawk from Brendan when I squeezed him. I didn’t really have a chance to play with it as Jordan was keeping me fully occupied and most of my attention was on him, making sure that I was keeping up with what he was doing. He was, in my humble opinion, playing games. One moment he’d be belting along, doing everything bar whipping me to get his ride going. The next moment he’s slowing down and we’ve gone from racing horse to a casual donkey ride at the beach. He was doing it deliberately, getting me all worked up and then easing off, extending the amount of time he had to play. And through all this I kept a tight grip on poor Brendan’s cock. For all his playing around things were advancing. Every time Jordan picked up the pace my excitement rose higher than the previous time and it wasn’t all that long that his slower periods weren’t having any effect. On me, anyway. I was burning, my blood felt as though it was boiling inside me, and it was only a matter of time before I climaxed. Then I did climax, dropping Brendan’s cock as though it was too hot and jamming my hands against my mouth, stifling any screams. Damned if I was going to make a loud noise and have someone come and see what was going on. Jordan groaned and rolled off me, collapsing on the grass, totally spent. For his part, Brendan was now rolling me over onto my tummy, lifting my bottom into the air. I let it happen, scrambling onto my knees, so I was head down, bum up, and Brendan advancing. Poor Brendan was in a bit of a state. My death clutch on his cock and apparently encouraged it to new and greater heights and he was feeling a little constrained, fearing that his balls would burst before he could get into action. It was quite an impressive sigh of relief he gave as his cock slid down my passage. Come to think of it, it was quite an impressive length of cock that came sliding into me. Brendan didn’t start in on me straightaway. He just held himself firmly in place. A little relieved I think to have his cock so comfortably placed. I waited patiently, quite willing to let him have a bit of me time. When he felt he was ready he started, moving surprisingly gently. He just pulled back and eased back into me again, as though feeling me out to see how I’d respond. I’d have thought after seeing how Jordan handled me he’d have had a good idea, but maybe he stopped paying attention to us when I gave him something of his own to think about. There again, he could have been feeling himself out to make sure he wasn’t going to explode too early. I just moved along with him, rocking gently in place. For all his easy going I could feel the excitement building in me again. Not surprising after the performance Jordan gave. If Brendan couldn’t build something with that for a foundation he would have had to give up on women and made a career of masturbation. After a couple of minutes I could feel Brendan relaxing. Well, as much as any man can relax in this sort of situation. He was gaining in confidence and starting to build up his pace. It wasn’t too long before he was galloping along at a respectable clip, and I was having to work once more to keep up with him. I was quite happy to just let him get on with things on his own terms. I was almost purring with satisfaction, my excitement building with every thrust. It wasn’t going to be all that long and I’d be good to go again. Being a woman I didn’t even need to try to delay things until the man was ready. That sort of thing was the man’s responsibility. Very soon it was a case of ready or not, here I come. I climaxed very nicely, thank you. My passage naturally clamped down on Brendan and quite frankly that was more than his poor cock could stand and he also climaxed, ready or not. Brendan separated from me and collapsed back down onto the grass. I rose back up onto my feet. I was feeling great. “I am going back into the pool for a quick dip,” I announced. “Then I’m going home.” With that I turned and slipped into the pool. The cool water washed over me, wiping away my cares and sundry juices that I seemed to have acquired. After a refreshing dip I was out of the water, slipping on my pyjama, and heading homeward. I’d have whistled on my way except for the fact that I can’t whistle. Brendan and Jordan? They were still sprawled on the grass. I guess they were just waiting for me to go before having their own swim. By Ashson [https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=1445967&page=submissions] for Literotica

Amorous Goods: Exorcist Rings

AMOROUS GOODS: EXORCIST RINGS [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-exorcist-rings] TWO PEOPLE FALL IN LOVE DURING AN EXORCIST. Based on a post by ShowTime8 [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-gaudus]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods1-14.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg] 3 days ago, Boston suburb of Dorchester The second worse day of John's life had occurred about a month ago when his cock had turned itself around in the shower one morning and started talking to him using the external urethral opening at the end of his cock as a mouth. "John, I'm not going to suck myself." John's cock said. "Either you're gonna start finding some women to do it or you will need to learn yoga so you can do it yourself." "What the hell!" John had screamed. "Hell is right John, a demon from Hell has possessed your cock. Deal with it." John's cock said. John had hoped that within a few days the situation would fix itself. He hated going to doctors and this seemed like a medical problem he really didn't want to deal with. The worse day of John's life was occurring now. Twenty minutes into his Zoom meeting with his corporate headquarters in England and clients in Germany, with over 40 people viewing him on video, his possessed cock had somehow taken over his body. The demon had forced him to stand bolt upright, work his possessed cock out of his underpants, got his possessed cock to lower his fly from the inside of his pants. Once out, his cock had waved back and forth while it screamed prophesies of the end of the world in English and German at the terrified business people. After nearly five minutes jets of fire had started rocketing from his possessed cock like a mini flame thrower in his pants, setting his work station ablaze. "Sorry everyone, I think I might be coming down with Covid." John yelled, trying to talk over his cock as it harangued the business people in German with what sounded like a speech from Hitler. "You need to let the church cut it off and burn it on a pyre of blessed logs." One of the Germans said. "It's the only way to;� Thankfully at that point he was dropped from the call. As John worked the fire extinguisher to put out his burning desk he said out loud "Aw man, if this continues I might really have to think about seeing a doctor." 2 days ago, Old South Church, Boston Back Bay district John had decided to work from his office instead of staying home on covid quarantine. He felt that if his cock was going to start fires it was better to away from his own personal possessions. John had planned on walked to the Boston library from his office on his lunch break. His goal was to find some books that might explain how he could get rid of his cock demon. On the way he had spotted Old South Church. Nearly 150 years old, the Northern Italian Gothic style Church had served generations of Bostonians religious needs. He decided to stop there first as it was on the way. "Can I help you?" A church employee asked as John entered the holy edifice. Smoke had started rising out of his pants as soon as he had stepped onto the holy ground around the church. "Nah, I'm good." John said as he quickly walked around the man and made his way to the stone basin in the corner of the room along the wall. "I'm just going to stick my cock in the holy water." "Stop, what are you doing?" an older woman yelled as she came running up to him. "There's a wedding in progress!" "Chill out, my cock got possessed." John explained. "I'm going to drowned it in holy water. I don't have time for this today; I have to get back to the office." John stripped his pants and underwear off and tried to get his genitals into the basin. The basin was deep and set against the wall so try as he might, he could not get his possessed cock into the water. Finally, he settled on dipping his underwear into the water like a sponge then rubbing the wet material against his bloated and turgid member. His cock responded by shrieking, squealing, and making other high pitched noises like a three month old baby getting its nails clipped before shooting more jets of fire into the pews. "I object to your wedding. I object to your happiness." His cock yelled before screaming at the horrified wedding guests in German. "You ruined my daughter's wedding you stupid freak." The older woman started crying while she directed terrified wedding guests from the burning church. "Why didn't you cut your possessed wiener off and burn it on a pyre of blessed logs like a normal person; instead of ruining everything for everyone. I'm calling the Holy Inquisition; I hope they kick your ass." John quickly made his escape, dashing into a crowd of people near the fire trucks that had arrived to fight the blazing holy building. Yesterday, Dagon church in the Boston Downtown Crossing district "Father Dagon cannot help you, Jesus cannot help you." The old priest warned. "It is said in the holy bible, 'I have been expelled from Your sight. Nevertheless I will look again toward Your holy temple'. You have been banished from the eyes of the gods for your sins." "What sins?" John whined. "I called every church in Boston and all of them hung up on me. You burn one church down and are wanted by the Holy Inquisition and suddenly no one wants to help you. It's total bullshit." "I will tell you of your sins again god, but first you need to give god's messenger money." The old priest nodded sagely, "We don't take credit card anymore." John quickly handed the priest the $3,000 they had demanded over the phone. "On talk like a pirate day, back on September 19th, do you remember what you did, it was a Saturday." "Yeah, I went with my buddy Gary to the bar for his birthday. We got totally drunk, it was a great time." "Do you remember your blasphemy against the image of the holy spirit?" "What are you talking about, I went to the bar. I got a little drunk, that's it." "And there you pissed on a plate of spaghetti, the holy symbol of the holy spirit in his guise as the flying spaghetti monster, on his most holy day." "What? I was drunk, there was a line for the bathroom. Someone had ordered spaghetti, it was on the table. Yes, I pissed on it, it was funny." "You think blaspheming god is funny?" "It was meant as a joke, it was funny." Well, god didn't find your little joke funny and removed your cock from his sight. Now, it's possessed by demons. The way I see it, you have two options. You can have the Catholic Church amputate your possessed cock and burn it to ash on a pyre of blessed logs. It's outpatient surgery. It's covered by most insurance plans, your only out of pocket would be the $15 copay." "I'm not paying someone $15 to cut my cock off." John angrily demanded. "What's my other option? And it better be fucking good cause I paid you $3,000." The priest chuckled. "The other option is Amorous Goods. I talked to them this morning. They agreed to help in exchange for your Bentley. Please bring the title to your car with you tomorrow. Your appointment is at 9am. Be prompt. Here's the address." "They want my car, forget that." John hissed. "Hey, what's that singing?" The priest motioned John to the church window overlooking the parking lot. Outside a dozen white panel vans had stopped in the lot. Dozens of nuns of the Holy Inquisition spilled forth. Their black and white head to toe habits hiding their faces as they slowly moved in to surround the building. Singing hymns in praise of god, the butts of their M-16s against their shoulders as they leveled the guns at the church. "Oh shit." John's cock whimpered fearfully. "It's pirates, don't let them get me!" The Pastafarians had sent in their paladins as well, holy members of the crimson corsairs of the flying spaghetti monster. One of their members pointed to the window John was looking out of. Her dark pirate overbust corset, red skirt, and knee high black leather pirate boots highlighted her figure as she raised her pirate sword and let out a mighty battle cry. "You no longer have a car." The priest continued chuckling. "Now run." Today, Abandon warehouse near Amorous Goods on the outskirts of Boston "Hi, you must be John, I'm Vicky, and this is Amy." Vicky greeted John as he walked in the door to the abandon warehouse. "Don't worry, Amy's not with the Holy Inquisition. Now please hand over the title to your car and we can get started." Handing Vicky the title to his car John asked. "What are you going to do to me? Who are you? Who's Amy?" "Yes, let's do a question and answer session. I'm sure the Holy Inquisition will wait around while we address all your concerns." Amy rolled her eyes and snarked. "Okay, a few weeks ago I slipped this really cute guy in my yoga class a love potion. He was married but I thought he would be much happier with me than his wife. He was cute, well hung, rich, the usual. Turned out his wife was a witch. This bitch's witches coven found me guilty of maleficium, cursed me, and so now my pussy is a gateway to hell." "Why are you dressed like a nun?" John asked. Amy did a full turn. Her faux leather vinyl sexy nun costume was skin tight on her firm 5'6" athletic figure. Her blue and black hair shoulder length hair back in a bun under her habit. "It pisses the demons in my pussy off, plus I love how it makes my ass look. Why are you dressed like a nun?" "My cock demon set my pants on fire again, then I had to beat up these nuns with the Inquisition. Then I stole one of their outfits. Last night was a long night." John sighed. "Okay you two. I'm a small business owner and my dead uncle was a wizard so I know what I am doing." Vicky broke in addressing the two possessed people. "What needs to happen is you need to ejaculate your wiener demon into the vortex to hell in your pussy. Please get inside the faraday cage." Vicky hoped this would work this time and the two test subjects would not explode but didn't want to mention to them what had happened to the last two possessed people she had tried helping. "What? All I needed to do is have sex with this whore and the demon would be gone." John whined. "I'm not a whore, I'm a yoga instructor, bartender, and teacher martial arts." Amy responded. "What do you do, mug nuns for a living." "I work in corporate finance, I'll be senior desk for capital structuring and investment decisions within two years." John bragged. "Okay, well, you want me to be a whore huh, okay then, that's a Neiman Marcus watch. Give me your watch." Amy said with a huge grin on her face. "If you don't then let's see how much you like it when the Holy Inquisition cuts your cock off. And get out of that outfit, let me see what you got." "My watch cost $15,000. I'm not just going;� John started while stripping off the nun's habit he was wearing. "No, my watch cost $15,000, now take it and your clothes off and get in that cage." Amy said with an angry smile, her nostrils flared out with her barely concealed rage. She was secretly happy with the turn of events. On the downside she was going to be having sex with a crossdressing weirdo five minutes after meeting him on a ratty, piss-stained mattress in some cage in an abandon building but with Covid she had learned to take what she could get when she could get it. On the plus side, he was well muscled and a dongoloid Ryan Reynolds look-a-like, not really much chest hair but nice abs. As she crawled in after him she grabbed his scrotum and gave it a playful tug. She smiled a little when he screamed and tried to pull away. "Do you watch Parks and Recreation?" John asked. "You have a weird awkward vibe about you, like Aubrey Plaza." "Well thanks, that's what I was going for, awkward slutty nun. Yeah, she's my favorite on that show. I like her better than Ron Swanson." Amy said, giving John her best weird girl stare. "I have her movie Life after Beth on DVD, I mean my place got shot up pretty bad by nuns last night, but it should be alright if you wanted to come over and watch it." John started blushing as he asked Amy out. "It's a hilarious zombie movie." John's cock said. "Yeah as soon as we're done fucking in this cage I would like that. I love horror movies." Amy smiled back. "Plus, I don't have sex till the third date so you owe me three retroactive dates." Amy lay on her back on the mattress and John pushed her nun mini skirt up before he slipped his head between her legs. His tongue found her clit and he started licking it in a capital T motion. As she became wet he moved his hand to slip a finger into her. As he did so the gateway to hell inside her pussy opened and the sound of a lighthouse fog horn rang out from between her vaginal lips temporary dazing him with its loud blast. Amy immediately rolled him over and mounted him. His thick member slid into her, filling her. When his cock demon tried squirting fire, the flames passed harmlessly into the vast chasm of the hell vortex. She grabbed his hand and worked her clit as she bounced on his member. His girth was large but not unpleasantly painful to her delicate slit. Lighting started shooting off the pair as their climax drew near. The hell vortex vibrated wildly as the demon was slowly sucked from John's cock. Amy felt like she was masturbating with a large dildo in her slit and her vibrator set to maximum near her clit. Suddenly John rolled himself back on top of her. Pinning her to the mattress with his larger frame, he started thrusting into her with strong powerful movements, timing himself perfectly with her wildly bucking hips. She could feel his scrotum, the scrotum she had be playfully tugging only minutes before, slapping against her ass as she wrapped her legs around his hips. Finally, the demon slipped from John's cock into the hell vortex and he came hard spraying his hot cum deep inside her. Amy felt the warmth soak over her like she had dunked her head under water during a bubble bath at the perfect temperature. The orgasm that followed knocked the breath out of her. As she came to she saw stars in front of her eyes and realized she had left bloody scratch marks down John's chest and back. She wanted to apologize but was to out of breath to form words. Finally she got enough strength to roll on to her side only to be hit with another wave of orgasmic bliss, sending her into another round of mini convulsions. Finally John wrapped her in his nun outfit and gently carried her from the cage. "Okay you two." Vicky said. "Here's a pair of magic anti-demon rings, each of you need to wear one and have sex with each other once or twice a week for the next month. That should be enough time for the hell gate to permanently close with the demon firmly trapped within." "Amy, I know that must have been so hard for you, the rest of the times will likely be just as intense just minus the lightning bolts shooting out of your asses. If you need to back out, we will come up with a plan B." Vicky explained, rubbing her hand over the exhausted woman's forehead. "Once or twice a day." Amy weary replied. "We will be doing that at least once or twice a day. How long till the pussy gate closes for good and that never happens again?" Vicky was unsure if she should respond. Finally she explained "You two are kind of soul locked, that will always happen if you have sex with him. I'm sorry." "I'm not." Amy gasped, still fighting to get her breath back. Epilogue, Old South Church, Boston Back Bay district Two years had passed since John and Amy had met. The anti-demon rings had been replaced with engagement rings. The wedding had to be kept small thanks in part to the Covid vaccine causing the occasional uncontrollable diarrhea rage zombie outbreaks. The wedding had gotten almost half way done when a naked man kicked in the door. He ran to the basin of holy water and tried to stick his cock in. His cock shrieked in panic, then started singing the greatest disco hits from the 70's while spraying fire into the pews. The two love birds were able to say "I do." before the smoke forced them to flee the building. John was able to slip a business card for Amorous Goods into the naked man's hand as he ran pass, dozens of pirates and nuns in hot pursuit. To be continued, in the series, Amorous Goods [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-a-lit-anthology-series]; a collaborative storyline for Literotica

Amorous Goods: The Pendant of Min

AMOROUS GOODS: THE PENDANT OF MIN [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-the-pendant-of-min] HE JUST COULDN'T BELIEVE SHE COULD EVER CHEAT. Based on a post by ShowTime8 [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-gaudus]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods1-09.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg] As painful as the scene on the computer screen was, Trevor Duncan couldn't look away. Part of the reason was he still couldn't believe his eyes, even though he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt it was authentic. Still, he was looking for some clue, some sign that it wasn't as it seemed. The other reason was Trevor felt utterly defeated and that he had already lost the most important thing in his life. He hurt so much emotionally, maybe piling on the pain would eventually get him to the point that he'd be numb to it; like a an emotional callous. The video was obviously shot from a phone set up ahead of time to capture the action on the bed. Trevor didn't recognize the bedroom at all, but knew exactly where and when it was. He also recognized the very attractive woman, lying on the bed half-naked with her legs spread, while a man lied with his head between him. "Oh God, you eat pussy so good," Larissa Duncan purred as she squirmed with her feet on the man's shoulders, while one hand played with the hair of the man pleasuring her. The other hand was working to free her tits from her C-cup bra. Once it did, she started playing with both nipples. "Fuck, fuck...I'm cumming;� The man chuckled as Larissa trembled and then pushed his head away. "Enough foreplay, I need a cock in me," Larissa said in a breathless voice as she tossed her bra on the ground, and wiggled out of her long blue dress that was bunched at her waist. "Do I get a choice of where it goes?" said the deep voice of Hunter McPhillip. As horrible as what Larissa was doing in the video, the 'who' made it even worse. Trevor and Hunter were both professors of English Literature at Gradestone University. They hated each other at first sight when Trevor started at GU five years prior. Hunter was arrogant, but lazy. He barely made his quota every year for scholarly publications and majority of it was derivative with his focus being ancient folklore. Trevor published numerous articles and several books on the effect of attitudes towards sexuality on popular culture as represented in literature. Locally, he was called Dr. Erotic because of his most popular book dealing with the 'Fifty Shades' phenomenon. "Oh, I think I know what you mean," Larissa said in a sultry tone on the video as she moved towards Hunter, who was now standing by the edge of the bed naked with his five-inch erection poking out underneath his beer gut. "Okay, for eating me so good, you deserve a little treat, but you're fucking my pussy, mister. I can't get pregnant by swallowing." With a look of pure joy and lust, Larissa took him in his mouth and began sucking his cock as enthusiastically as she'd ever done to Trevor. He did get blowjobs, but maybe once or twice a month. She used her hand to stroke, as she licked right down to the toad's hairy balls, which she took in her mouth in turn. Hunter groaned through it like he was in heaven. "Enough, my pussy needs this cock," Larissa said through her teeth in a lustful sexy voice as she released him and got on her hands and knees facing away from him, "There's nothing I love more than your cock in me. Fuck me, baby, fuck me hard. We've been away from the party for too long as it is. We don't want anyone to notice." Grabbing her by the hips, Hunter slammed into Trevor's wife with a grunt by both of them. He went straight to jack-rabbiting her doggy style. You could hear the sound of flesh slapping and the jingle of that ugly pendant Hunter wore around his neck at the party. As he thrust, Hunter spoke in a breathless voice to obviously taunt Trevor more. "You love this cock more than all others? Don't you baby? Say it?" "Oh, fuck;� squealed Larissa, "I love this cock more than anything. It's the only one I ever want till I die." "You don't just want to be fucked. You want me to cum deep in you and make you pregnant?" "Oh God, yes, I want your baby." Larissa began panting and shifting like she was close to coming again. With a grunt, Hunter looked to have finished in her, but then he kept going while Larissa reached to rub herself. "Yes, just a little more, just a little more. Fuck." Hunter pulled out and Trevor could clearly see the jizz dripping out of his wife's bald pussy. "Wow, that was fun. I better get back down there," Hunter said wiping his cock on the blanket. "Okay, lover," Larissa said in a breathless content voice, "I can't believe we did it here. I better freshen up and I'll see you down there. Hopefully no one suspects anything." "What if they do?" Hunter said in a smarmy voice as his hand reached towards the camera. "Does it really matter?" "You're right," giggled Larissa, "God, I love you." The screen went black and then white text appeared saying, "We waited just for this special night to come into the open about our love. You might have gotten the Dean position, but I got the girl. And hopefully soon, a son. #Winning" Trevor swore loudly and threw an empty beer can at the screen. It was three days prior that his wife casually admitted she was fucking someone when she disappeared for an hour at the party at the Donald Blune, the university president's house. The party was to announce to faculty and staff that Trevor was replacing Dr. Welsh as Dean of Humanities. After the brief argument, which caused quite a scene in front of everyone, Trevor went home, grabbed a few things and headed to a motel. His wife, who reeked of sex, had the gall to be mad that his coworkers found out she was fucking someone else with all of them there. Shortly after he checked into his room, he received the video by email. Trevor and Larissa had been married for twelve years and had Josephina, who was ten. Larissa's pregnancy had been quite difficult with complications requiring an emergency C-section. Another slap in the face was Trevor had hinted several times that he wanted another child, but Larissa refused. Now, here she was happily going to have that toad's? As unattractive as Trevor thought Hunter was, he always seemed to hook up with really attractive women. None as sexy as Larissa, at least until that party. Hunter was a good bullshitter, but Trevor never in his wildest dreams thought his wife would fall for it. Knowing that half the campus would know he was cuckolded at his own promotion party, Trevor hadn't returned to work. His wife also worked there in financial services as payroll manager - and was well known on campus. A tall leggy brunette with a skinny waist, full tits and a flawless face that always was smiling got noticed. Trevor couldn't stand the thought of seeing people's faces pitying him or snickering behind his back. Trevor knew he had to cool off a bit before making any definite decisions, but he was already looking at professor positions at other colleges. He couldn't see himself remaining at GU with Hunter and Larissa now a couple. What hurt more than the ending of what Trevor thought a perfect marriage was now he probably would be a part-time parent to Jo. Even with proof of her adultery, Trevor knew it was unlikely that he'd get full custody. With him planning to move out of state, the best he could probably hope for was summer and holidays with her. If he remained in Gradestone, he'd probably get split custody, but again, the thought of being in the same city as the lovers; especially when Larissa started to show, was too unbearable. There had been some attempts of Larissa or her friends and family to contact him. After her text of, "What's wrong with you? I did nothing to deserve how you treated me," Trevor blocked every way he could think of her contacting him. He even canceled his phone and got an upgrade with a new, unlisted, number in his name only. He felt really bad because he knew how much Jo would be missing her father, but he couldn't see how he could contact her without dealing with Larissa, which he wasn't ready for yet. Whereas Larrisa came from a big family, three siblings, both parents alive and a couple dozen close cousins, Trevor was basically an orphan. His parents died within a month of each other before he met his wife in college. He had no siblings or other family that he knew about. As well, all the friends he really had in town were 'their friends.' That meant, Trevor felt like he had no real support as he was going through hell. He was about to watch the video again, when he hesitated, and instead did an internet search. Within twenty minutes, he found a divorce attorney and had a free consult meeting that afternoon. Horace Derringer was one of those older men who were probably a lot older than they look. The older man looked no more than fifty, but the years on different decorations in his office made him more likely to be over sixty. Still, the man had something about him that commanded respect, which gave Trevor a lot of confidence in him. Before the meeting, Trevor sent a copy of the email to him, warning him it was graphic. Horace chuckled and said in all his years handling divorces, he'd seen everything. "Well, Mr. Duncan, I guess I do owe you an apology," Horace said, "You said this video was filmed at your promotion party? And your wife came down immediately after and admitted it, and then her lover sends the video to taunt you further? That's something I've never seen before. Of course, I will have a forensic video expert go through it carefully; both for authenticity and any details which could help either or your wife's case." "Well, she didn't just come down and admit it," Trevor said, "the fact she disappeared and missed the president announcing my promotion, and I could just tell she had sex. I mean, you could practically smell it on her and how her hair and clothes were. I was completely shocked and asked her point blank if she just had sex. She said, 'duh, of course I did.' That's when I raised my voice and asked who. She looked at me like it was a stupid question and said that I knew. I said I didn't and demanded she tell me who she just fucked loud enough for everyone to hear. That's when everyone started looking at us and she got mad at me for letting everyone know and asked me if I was going crazy." "She seemed pretty lucid in the video, which is surprising. I expected some sign of her intoxicated or under the effects of some narcotic," stated the attorney. Trevor shrugged. "It was a dry party and besides caffeine, I don't think Larissa has touched any recreational drug in the past ten years. I used to smoke and still drink occasionally, but she is a health freak." Horace shook his head. "Wow, I'm sorry Mr. Duncan, but that should give us grounds for mental cruelty - how they rubbed their affair in your face. Do you have any idea how long it was going on?" "I have absolutely no clue because there were zero signs. You heard them talking. It had to be over a period of time, but she completely deceived me. Everything about our relationship was great. Active sex life, went on regular dates, we even ate all three meals together most days because we both worked at the university. There's been no change at all until she came down from that bedroom after my promotion was announced." "She was talking about getting pregnant. Was there a change in your family planning?" Trevor sighed. "I got snipped five years ago because my wife had a rough pregnancy and didn't want to risk something happening. Since she's not on any birth control, it would be easy for her to plan to get knocked up by her lover behind my back. Horace nodded and cleared his throat. "Okay, well I definitely would be glad to represent you. Now, these proceedings always have some level of unpredictability, but I can safely give you some good and bad news ahead of time." "Okay." "Since you are planning to move out of state, no way you're getting split custody and it would be a long shot to get full. Now, if there were signs of mental stability, that would be different. I'm sorry, but I don't see that. The court will just see a woman who fell in love with another man to the point that she cruelly rejected her current spouse. And with us being a no-fault state, with no pre-nup, your assets will be split and you'll probably be paying some child support based on your comparative earnings." Trevor blinked. "I'm sorry, what is the good news?" "You strike me as an intelligent man, which is why this is so hard on you," Horace shook his head sadly. "You aren't used to be tricked and these two really pulled the wool over your eyes. I'm sure you knew financially, there was no way you were coming out on top in divorce proceedings. The good news is this will not be drawn out. With your wife actively trying to conceive with another man and admitting it in front of witnesses, no judge will be recommending counseling to try and reconcile even if she suddenly has a big change of heart. You'll still be connected by your daughter of course, but you will be free of your wife. And, we can stipulate that a neutral person be the contact for matters about her, and transport her between visits. In other words, you won't be forced to interact with your ex-wife." Trevor nodded. "I guess that's as good as news I can hope for. I have no intention of speaking to her again." "Sorry, I meant after the divorce proceedings. You two will still need to be present during the process. And since, it might take a month or more to get the ball rolling, I'm sure you won't want to be away from your daughter for that long. You will be free of her eventually. I recommend just keep your feelings in check and don't do anything stupid; like knocking anyone's teeth in." "I'd never strike my wife. I've hardly yelled at her," Trevor said sounding offended. "I meant your soon-to-be-ex-wife's lover. That video could trigger a physical response from you, and that could be used to deny you access to your daughter. That could be why they sent it to you - a trick I have seen before. My advice, besides hiring me, is find a third party you both trust to get a message to your wife that you aren't ready to see her, but want to see your daughter. For there to be any chance of full custody, it has to look like you're still wanting to actively be her father." "Of course I actively want to be her father," Trevor snapped, but Horace barely reacted. "Yes, so I'm recommending you do something that you want to do already." Trevor didn't feel any better after the meeting, but he did officially hire Horace to start getting ready to have Larissa served by the start of the following week. He was already thinking of how to connect with Jo without having to deal with Larissa. Horace's advice of a neutral go-between crossed his mind, but he couldn't see many people he'd trust, worried that they probably would be more on Larissa's side. In the end, he decided on the Balloys. Jeff and Marjorie were parents of Teaghan, who was Jo's best friend in school. Larissa and Marjorie had hit it off right away and became really good friends. Over the last couple years, the families had gone camping together and even on vacation to California. Trevor wasn't as close to Jeff as Larissa was to Marjorie, but he trusted them; especially when it came to his daughter. Trevor had all his contacts from his old phone, though with many numbers blocked just in case. He was about to call Jeff, but knew it he'd probably end up talking to Marjorie anyway. She picked up on the first ring. He didn't even finish saying 'Hello' when she interrupted. "Trevor, is that you? Where are you? Everyone is worried sick. Larissa even went to the police, but they wouldn't consider you a missing person because they thought you left her." "They aren't wrong. I did leave her." "What?" shrieked Marjorie, "How could you do that? Both of them have been crying nonstop. How the fuck could you do that? Is it another woman?" "Quit yelling and I'll tell you the full story," Trevor said firmly. She mumbled a few more swear words and then angrily said, "Fine." "I'm guessing that Larissa didn't tell you the whole story." "Only that out of nowhere you cruelly humiliated her for no reason and was acting crazy at your boss's house." Trevor snorted. "That's rich. I humiliated her? I'm sorry to speak ill of your good friend, but what happened is my once loving wife suddenly disappeared from the party. I did try to find her and asked around, but I had to stop looking because the president was about to make the big announcement of my promotion. The promotion that was the whole reason why there was a party in the first place. They made the announcement, I gave my speech, and still no sign of my wife. A fact that wasn't lost on all our co-workers present. When I was finally free to look, I found her looking and smelling like she just had sex; obviously not with me." "What? I don't believe it." "Oh, it's true. In fact, she casually admitted it like it was no big deal. She only got upset when I demanded she tell me who she fucked." "That, that does not sound like Risa at all," Marjorie said in a softer voice. "What I thought so as well. Then I get an email from her lover, Hunter fucking McPhillip, with the full video of them fucking and discussing their plans to have his baby." "Trevor, that can't be right. It has to be fake. There's no way;� Marjorie started. "I could smell him on her. There's no way she didn't fuck him. And the worse thing is," Trevor paused to compose himself before continuing, "Is how they talked like it had been going on for a while. She said she loved him. The video claims that they planned it from the beginning to announce on my special night that she was now with him." "I-I-I don't know what to say," said Marjorie sounding a little shaken, "If that really happened, it makes sense you wanting some space. All I know is Risa is not acting like a woman ready to leave her husband for another man. She is physically ill worrying about you and claims to have no idea why you ran off. She's been calling hospitals worrying that you had a brain tumor that caused this." "Maybe she's the one with the tumor. I won't put you through seeing the video unless you really want to, but I swear it's real." Trevor sighed. "Look, Marjorie, the reason I'm calling is about Jo. I really miss her and want to see her, but I'm not ready to face Larissa. Not yet. I trust you and Jeff completely with my daughter's welfare. Can you please contact my wife and convince her to let you arrange me spending some time with my daughter? I'm not going to say a word about why we're divorcing. I just need to see her." "Wow, I don't know what to say," Marjorie said, "Of course, I'll help you see Jo. She's as bad as Risa is right now. I'm sorry, I am just in shock she'd do something like that. I mean, how she talks about you when it's just us. She absolutely gushes about you." "Well, I guess she changed her mind. Thanks Marjorie. Please say hi to Jeff for me and I'll await your call. It can be anytime. I'm giving my two week notice to quit work and on leave for two weeks." After he got off the phone, Trevor started writing an email to Dr. Blune giving him the heads up that he was quitting. As the university president was a couple yards away from the confrontation between him and Larissa, Trevor didn't expect him to be surprised. The only silver lining was that Trevor wasn't currently teaching any courses, so there was only a single research project tha