M.I.A.

"What should I call you?" I asked, timidly.

"You don't know my name?" said the nurse, with a smile.

I looked down in subtle shame and nodded.

"Then we shall make up our own names. I'll call you Bronco because of the way you like to fuck."

"Then I'll call you Jill, because of how you jill off so sweetly."

"Then if I'm Jill then you're Jack."

"Then if I'm Jack, then you're Jackie."

We joked for a long time about our names, as we snuggled in bed in this beach house I had the Oak Valley Special Protective Division confiscate from the family who was residing here. The virgin I had my nurse fucked lived here, but she was long gone.

I relaxed on the bed as my nurse perused the stuff that belonged to the family that lived here. "Do you read the bible, Johnny?" dropping the pretext on names.

I sat up. "My grandfather, Amos, taught us all Bible lessons as kids, but my mothers didn't like him scaring us with it, and we stopped studying it when I was seven or eight. But, you know, I'm part-Amish, so I think it's a good book and all."

"It's hard-to-reconcile a godly life with one you're about to live. Fucking everything under the sun, is not exactly what the Bible proscribes. It's not a saintly lifestyle."

"My father was a saint," I said, wondering where she was going with this.

"Your father was a martyr. But he did some things, and he had doubts. Here's a Bible." She handed me the family bible from the drawer. "Read it," she said, as she snuggled next to me.

"Where is he?!" asked Sheriff Mohr as he twisted Marisol's nipple until it was bloody. "I don't know!" she shouted, chained upside-down to the X-cross as blood rushed to her head. He pushed the large, unvarnished, wooden dildo further into her twat as she cried out in pain.

"Sir," stated Captain DiMeo pulling in a shackled Tawny. "This one might have some ideas. She's the outsider." Mohr nodded and yanked out the dildo leaving several painful splinters.

He walked up to Tawny and grabbed her by the neck. "I'm going to fuck you raw until you give me the info I need." He pushed her into an anteroom in the basement dungeon, and shooed away his assistants as they watched him chain her to the wall and begin fucking her ass.

The door was locked from the outside as Mohr noted their complete privacy and pulled out. Reaching into his pocket, he clicked on a white noise machine, ostensibly to "hide the screams," but really to talk in private. He unshackled Tawny, AKA Agent Tremont, who rubbed her sore ass. "A little too real, Kris," she joked.

"Where is he?" Kris asked, in frustration as he sat down on a metal chair.

"He's with that nurse, Alice Lee. That's a fake name." She frowned.

"How did we not catch that?"

"She was with him from the beginning. She had been employed by the St. John's Center for three years. The background check didn't notice any irregularities until this morning."

"We need to find her and neutralize her. Things are getting out of control. In the meantime, I need you to get rid of Marisol, make it look like an accident."

"Understood," nodded Tremont. She wasn't usually used for wetworks, but was no stranger to it. When she was in Finland taking down a sex **** ring, one of her 'masters' used to jerk off to her strangling other slaves. She lost count of how many she killed before turning the tables and arresting him.

Amos frowned as his garden was being trampled on. "Excuse me, sir," he said to a nearby guard in full tactical gear. "Perhaps we can be more careful around the greenery? We are a self-sufficient community, after all," said the old man, patriarch of the Doestown Commune Amish.

The guard smacked down Amos who fell to the grass. "There's more important things to worry about, Old Man. Go back to your house!" he yelled, as he pulled up his rifle and pointed it at Amos. Amos recovered his hat, smiled, and left quickly.

In his home, with his door busted open, Amos frowned at the sight of his wife, Hannah, being manhandled by another guard in another 'routine' cavity search. Her clothing had been ripped off, and she turned to face Amos as the man inserted fingers into her cunt.

"All clear," said the smiling man, licking his fingers as Amos's 44-year-old wife uprighted herself from her lain state. She adjusted her headdress and began looking for the remains of her underwear.

The black guard patted Amos's shoulder and said "I like your daughter, man!" before exiting, confusing Hannah's relative youth with that of his daughter from a previous marriage. Amos just nodded politely, hiding how disturbed he was at his wife's frequent sexual molestations.

He knelt down to help collect his wife's clothing, before she knelt down with him, kissing him and saying "Relax, husband. This is just a temporary annoyance. The status quo will return."

Amos looked into Hannah's eyes, betraying his grief at her situation. "It would be one thing if it was just Johnny laying with you. But these policemen, these English, are taking liberties not afforded to them. I have half a mind to leave like Zebulon and his wives," referencing his son and daughters-in-law who left after they had been assaulted yesterday. They had returned to the old Godstown to rebuild and get away from the troubled community.

"We mustn't!" continued Hannah, "We must be available for your daughter, Rebecca, and my daughter, Patience, as they go through this troubling time. This is our trial. Our tribulation." She grabbed her downtrodden husband, and led him upstairs to fuck.

Tawny buried her strong thighs over Marisol, suffocating her as well as she could with her well-toned body. She felt the struggling cease, the dejection end, and the life flow out of Marisol Atkins' body. She was dead. Tawny stood up and looked at what she had done. Her orders. Carried out. Fuck.

Tawny dove down and began chest compressions. She felt to make sure the neck had not been broken. She gave mouth-to-mouth. Less than a minute later, thank god, Marisol gasped loudly, as Tawny relaxed. Marisol was in darkness, blindfolded, and knew that she had been almost murdered by an unknown person. Not her daughter, she could tell, but perhaps an agent of her daughter's. But now, she had been rescued, survived, by some unknown benefactor.

She heard a gunshot and was scared. Then the blindfold went off.

"Miss Atkins, I need you to go," said what looked to be a Valley girl holding a cushion over a bloody shoulder as she struggled to talk. "I need you to go through that cellar to this address, where you will find someone who will take care of you. Get you out of town. You have fifteen seconds." Tawny handed Marisol a pair of boots, as Marisol saw a (dead?) body from one of the guards. "Go!" She rushed up the cellar stairs as others rushed down the basement stairs.

"It's time," said the nurse, as she jumped on Johnny's lap. He was erect instantly, and stared in her eyes as their latest confiscated car drove along the empty interstate highway. She smiled at him and he smiled at her, and the world just went away. "Where are we going?"

"Wherever the stars take us!" she said, buckling her buckling bronco.

"I love you, Jackie," I said, cumming into her for the nteenth time.

"No," she corrected me, "I love you, Mia."