The Evil Within Ch. 02

The girlfriends didn't know what to make of this statement; Yvette was so out there.

Yvette lit up, snapped her Zippo closed and looked casually at the women around the table. They all had polite but inquisitive smiles fixed oddly on their faces.

Since no one took the bait Yvette blew out a cloud of blue smoke and continued, "How's that medical pot thing work? Do we write scripts for each other or what? And, I assume we're all at least bi, if not," she smiled slightly in Roxanne's direction but not at Roxanne, "openly gay, sitting at this table. Dreaming about the sweet flesh between each others' legs as well as the cocks of husbands, lovers, pool boys, tennis pros and golf caddies - or is there some sort of caste system over whom it's fashionable to fuck and carry on with and with whom it's forbidden?

"You know, like, 'Ewwww, she sucked off a limo driver while waiting to get into the Whiskey A-Go-Go! She was down on her knees in a back alley where the drunks piss!' Or is that okay? Anyway," she gestured with her hands, "you know those sorts of things. Oh, and do we have any, you know, group activities together?"

Yvette took another drag off her cigarette and waited, straight faced.

Roxanne Sommers finally broke the silence. She gave a low, throaty laugh and nodded her head, a sly smile on her face. "Oh Cynthia, dear Cynthia, Yvette's going to fit in quite well. And, uh, Yvette, yes, I am the bull dyke here and you may rest assured I have been most definitely thinking of that tender pink flesh between your legs since Cynthia showed us your picture. Now I am even more interested in it. Like, when I finger myself thinking about you, are you shaved or do you have a little hair?"

Yvette vamped for the girlfriends, "Oh, Dr. Sommers, I shaved it all for California. Isn't that the style unless, of course, you like your girls with a little decoration? I also got a clit ring too before I came out. I love it, especially when I masturbate."

There were ooo's and ah's together with pleased sounding tittering.

It was difficult to tell whether Roxanne was vamping or was extremely aroused or both. She locked eyes with Yvette, her face emotionless: "Smooth as a baby's bottom, Dr. Harriman; that's how I like my girls' cunts - and I can do wonders with clit rings. I'll have you begging me to be my bitch after our first fuck."

"I have butterflies in my belly," Yvette kept the eye lock with Roxanne, "and you have no idea how incredibly swollen and slick I feel right now but, uh, we'll have to see who's going to be whose bitch. I can play the whore, Dr. Sommers, but I'm not easy."

There was a long silence and the girls watched Yvette and Roxanne hold each others' gaze then there was an intense burst of ooo's and ah's. There'd be no trouble with Yvette fitting in and, to the group, Roxanne had just staked out her territory even though quietly, all the women wanted her.

Cynthia Knowles couldn't have been more pleased with her friends' reaction to Yvette. "Yes, Roxie, I believe she will do quite well out here with us."

Deb Baker put her hand over Yvette's, her finger tips playing lightly against Yvette's skin, "Then again, Yvette, if big bull dykes aren't your cup of tea, I am, as you can see, most feminine and I've been told I have a very sweet tasting cunt. My husband is a workaholic. I, on the other hand, take Wednesday afternoon and all day Friday off. You know; if you'd like to uh, hook up. Unlike some," she cast a glance at Roxanne, "I'll even let you lead." Doing her best Mae West she said, "You look like the strong silent type."

"Bitch," Roxanne retorted in false anger, "You're just jealous because I'm fucking your Guatemalan housekeeper and you wanted her all to yourself 'cause Cynthia's got to give your hubby a bigger dick - that actually works," the orthopod added with a Cheshire cat like smile.

No caste system, Yvette mused to herself.

Deb yawned and then said to the other women, ignoring Roxanne, "At least I wasn't recruited to play middle linebacker by USC when I was pre-med," her voice and smile carried enough saccharin to have killed a lab rat instantly.

The butch surgeon simply flipped Deb off.

Cynthia interrupted the friendly cat fight, "Girls, girls, let's not give our new colleague a bad impression on our first lunch."

To get the conversation moving in a different, more agreeable direction Cynthia said, "Yvette's thinking of having a baby too."

"Oooo, is she going to go your route, Cyn?" Amy Chang asked.

Cynthia looked at Yvette with a smile, her fingertips now delicately playing on the back of Yvette's other hand as if to stake her territorial claim, "Well, I haven't discussed my route with her yet but once I explain it I think she might just go for it. She'll be able to keep working and keep that wonderful figure of hers."

"Speaking of your route," Roxanne asked, what's it doing today?"

Cynthia looked at her watch, "Mmmm, right about now, I think my pool boy is using it. I'm bartering his services."

"What's your accountant think of that?" Deb asked with interest.

Cynthia leaned in to the table conspiratorially, "I'm bartering it with him too."

Amy asked with enthusiastic anticipation, "Are you not going to use it anymore? Are you lending it out?"

"Well, I'm hoping I can get sweet Yvette here to take it off my hands and get some capital investment back. But I need to talk to her about itfirst."

The women tittered guiltily and elbowed each other. Yvette was taking it all in with a polite smile, thinking about the sweet flesh and undoubtedly sweaty skin in the heat of passion of the buxom orthopedic surgeon sitting across from her. She had absolutely no idea what anyone was talking about though she knew she would find it interesting. She had come for the decadence and whatever it was definitely sounded decadent. Little could she imagine.

Yvette's martini came and the conversation slowed as the women looked over the lunch menu.

~~~~~~~~~~

Though it was early afternoon, the woman - Claire Benton though she had long forgotten her name - lay naked in a room in near darkness. She blinked and squinted when the door opened and silhouetted a figure holding a large wooden mallet in its hand.

The woman abstractly wondered if the person standing in the doorway with the mallet knew how to use it properly and if they would be humane; stunning her completely so that she would not be conscious when her Achilles tendon's were cut and the hooks were inserted into the hollows of the back of her heels as she was hoisted up to be bled.

But the silhouetted figure, a girl, put down the mallet and picked up a leash. "Come on," the girl said as if she were bored, "Jimmy wants to get his rocks off with you." The girl clipped the leash to the woman's dog collar.

Sometime later the girl returned the woman to her room and unclipped the leash. The woman had been well used; sweat and cum dripped from her body as she had been used out in the hot noonday sun by the pool.

"You did well today," the girl casually commented. "Maybe you'll get off the clear liquids tomorrow."

Though Claire was high and in a daze from whatever drugs the pool boy and the girl had given her and from her intense sexual arousal from the session, she took this news happily. Getting food meant the ordeal would be postponed, at least for another few days. They didn't want to risk the chance of her defecating during the butchering process; it tended to spoil the meat and make the job messier.

Claire whimpered and grasped one of the girl's ankles and began kissing the girl's foot.

"Whoa!" the girl laughed casually - the way a person talks happily to an overeager dog. The girl broke from Claire's grasp and stepped back. In the light from the door she looked at her watch and then back at Claire.

The girl, a graduate of UCLA and formerly from a farm in Sioux City, Iowa, slid her thong off and then, from several keys on a lanyard around her neck she unlocked a drawer and removed a strapon dildo and stepped into the harness. Still tender from the fucking she had taken from the pool boy's associate; the girl shuddered in pleasure and a little pain as she pushed the small penis end of the dildo past her sex lips and into her pussy. As she tightened the rig onto her body, pulling the base of the dildo snuggly against her clit she commanded the woman, "Go kneel in the corner, cunt."

The girl put one hand on the Claire's hip and one hand in Claire's hair and pressed her pelvis into Claire. The large dildo slid easily into the Claire's swollen and sperm slickened cunt without any guidance from the girl's hands. Claire panted and moaned; the feeling of the soft, dry skin of the girl's belly and thighs against Claire's ass and thighs and the filling of the dildo - the pleasure was almost overwhelming.

Claire was nearing orgasm from the frenzy of the girl's fucking and abuse. As the wave of her orgasm broke and filled her belly Claire thought, blissfully, at least another couple of days. At least another couple of days.

~~~~~~~~~~

"So, you want a baby, huh?"

Yvette pulled off her surgical cap and exhaustedly flopped down next to Roxanne on the leather sofa in the doctor's surgical lounge. She'd just finished a long, tedious, cardiac catheterization that was supposed to be easy. She had three more to do plus make rounds before she could call it a day.

"Yeah. The clock's ticking, you know? What about you?"

"Maybe someday, if the right girl comes along; I'd have her artificially inseminated, you know. Hey," Roxanne said with a glimmer in her eye, "got a husband?"

Yvette grinned, "Uh huh. Sorry. His name is Herbie."

"Herbie? Who's named Herbie these days? What is he, a geezer?"

Yvette laughed, "It's a long story, but he's most definitely not a geezer."

The surgeon grinned. "Damn, just like they say, all the good ones are married."

"Well, stud," Yvette slapped Roxanne on the thigh, "Herbie lets me play around. We have a relationship but I can have sex with other people - you know, grown up boys and girls. Besides, this is Southern California but...ah, you don't have the right equipment to knock me up - not that the idea doesn't get me a little wet - and I don't go for that artificial stuff. I mean Herbie'd love to jerk off in a cup but I do not find being spread eagled in stirrups while I get Herbie's load in a modified turkey baster up my cunt, uh, appealing. Sorry."

"You know they don't use turkey basters, right? And, does the thought of me knocking you up really get you wet."

"Uh, yeah. Yeah it does. I love strong women like you; you knocking me up somehow makes for an interesting fantasy. I can really tell when I'm ovulating and the thought of you on top, pumping your jizz into me - breeding me like a bitch - I say HooAhh, girl!" Yvette smiled; she could see Roxanne's mind working and suddenly a nipple pressed its outline against Roxanne's scrub top.

"Are you teasing me or would you really like to hook up?"

"Well, stud, what do you think?" Yvette asked.

Roxanne leaned over, put her hand behind Yvette's head and kissed her, pushing her tongue deeply into Yvette's mouth. Yvette gave a little sigh and hungrily sucked the intruding tongue before pushing it back into Roxanne's mouth and following with her own.

Just as Roxanne was getting into the kiss and feeling Yvette's smaller body press into hers, Dr. Gary Marsten, a general surgeon, came in and took notice of the women on the sofa.

"Jesus Christ, Roxanne, get a fucking room, would ya?."

Reluctantly Roxanne broke the kiss to taunt the older male surgeon, "Whatsa matter One Nut? I thought you liked girl on girl action."

The other surgeon paused in thought for a moment then turned his back to the women and dropped his scrubs, mooning the two. Then he farted, loudly and wetly.

"God damn Gary! Go wipe after that one!"

He looked over his shoulder. Yvette's face was obscured as she nuzzled Roxanne's throat. "Why don't you just take your tart of the week somewhere else and let a man fart in peace?"

"Priss! Or are you just jealous because I won't let you ball me? He thinks if he can fuck me with his massive tool I'll switch teams." Roxanne retorted as she got up, taking Yvette's hand in hers.

"He might be right, Rox; he's almost bigger than my husband.

Hey Gary, how's it hanging?" Yvette smiled warmly with a mischievous wink thrown in for old times' sake.

Gary Marsten looked at the other woman for the first time."Jesus H. Christ! Vette, is that you?" the surgeon asked excitedly. Yvette broke her hand hold with Roxanne and went to hug Marsten. "I heard you and Herbie were coming out here to Lotus Land, I just didn't know when. How are you? We'll have to catch up some time."

Yvette kissed Marsten on the cheek and then went back to Roxanne standing at the door of the lounge and put her arm around Rox's waist.

Marsten laughed knowingly, "Cruising in the fast lane again, I see. Give Herbie my regards. Roxanne has a need now. Watch her, she likes it rough. And, uh, it's hanging comfortably, thank you."

Roxanne looked at the surgeon and Yvette with surprise, "You two obviously know each other."

Yvette grinned slyly and winked again at Marsten, "Gary and I, uh, have been colleagues for a while from back in Milwaukee. He has the scars to show for it too." Gary blushed just a bit and laughed.

"Come on, Rox, I've got a procedure in 30 minutes. We can chat later." She turned quickly back to Marsten, a wicked grin now on her face, "I'll see if I can accommodate her taste for roughness."

The male surgeon smirked as Yvette took the lead out of the lounge. "Uh, watch out Roxanne, she's pretty slick - and not in the way you're accustomed to. There's a reason we called her Vette, among other things, back in Milwaukee." He thought Roxanne had met her match. He sort of wished he could watch.

Roxanne found herself being pulled out the door by the pretty cardiologist, Gary Marsten's words echoing in her head.

Roxanne soon found out what Marsten meant. Yvette pulled Roxanne into one of the unisex, handicapped bathrooms outside the surgical suite, locked the door and slammed Roxanne against the wall. Roxanne hit her head against the wall, stunning her and knocking the wind out of her.

Yvette said nothing as she untied and then roughly pulled down the Rox's scrub pants and panties. Roxanne attempted to move off the wall and just look down at Yvette as she worked but Yvette put her palm directly on Roxanne's breast bone and shoved her back, causing her to hit her head and knocking the wind from her again. Roxanne slid down the wall, dazed.

"Come on, bitch; time to give it up for the Vette, baby. Spread," Yvette commanded.

Roxanne obeyed.

Yvette dropped to her knees; lightly ran her fingertips up and down the insides of Roxanne's thighs and then put her hands on the insides of the thighs, bent down and put her mouth directly on Roxanne's sex. When Roxanne felt Yvette's tongue flick slowly over her clit she had to bite her lower lip to keep from crying out.

Roxanne tried to put her fingers in Yvette's ultra short hair and hold her tightly to her work. But Yvette swatted Roxanne's hands away and then she sat back momentarily, a hard, determined look on her face, "Huh uh, this is my party, bitch. Maybe I'll let you fuck me over some time but not now."

Roxanne was speechless; Yvette went back to her work.

30 minutes later Yvette slowly got off her belly with a groan on the bathroom floor. She stretched when she was on her feet; went to the sink to wash her face and hands. She rubbed a handful of water through her hair and put her "geek" glasses on, taking time to straighten her lab coat.

Roxanne sat exhaustedly on the floor, soaked in sweat; the remnants of her orgasm slowly ebbing though her belly. She still had her long, well muscled legs spread wide, her sex gaping after Yvette vigorously had worked Roxanne's cunt.

Yvette stood over Roxanne and looked at her watch in irritation.

"You know, I don't want to sound bitchy," Yvette stopped and thought a moment. "No, I do want to sound bitchy - you've got a beautiful cunt, a fabulous clit and nice thighs too - but, uh, why didn't you tell me? My jaw is going to bother me the rest of the fucking day and my schedule for today is fucked too."

Roxanne was disturbed by Yvette's tone; she didn't have a clue what Yvette was talking about. "Uh, I'm sorry Yvette, tell you what?"

"Is it Zoloft?"

Roxanne blinked in confusion and then astonishment, "No, it's Paxil."

Yvette gently worked her stiff jaw. "All the SSRI anti-depressants retard orgasm, some even completely inhibit them. Jesus, you orthopods really don't read much outside your field do you? Plus, it makes a subtle change in the taste of your urine and you leaked a bit when you were finally able to get off. You should see a urologist about that weak bladder.

"I'm late for a procedure; the head hell bitch in the cath lab is going to give me grief. You should have told me our little bathroom tryst was going to take, like, fucking forever. Plus I am all wound up and no way to come and that pisses me off with a casual fuck buddy. Lovers can leave each other hanging, you know? But fuck buddies - hey, it's tit for tat, bitch. I get you off, you get me off and everyone is happy. Are we fuck buddies, Rox?"

Roxanne was used to being in control, very used to it. Yvette's handling of her took her by total surprise but despite Yvette's dominance of her; she really liked how Yvette did her and made her feel. So her tone was a bit uncertain and a little shaky when she answered Yvette, "Yeah. Yeah, uh, look, I'm sorry about, you know, uh, taking so long to come. I just never..."

Yvette sat on her haunches in front of the big surgeon, her elbows on her knees and her fingers idly playing with her "geek" glasses. She interrupted, "You've never had some little mouse, like me, turn the tables on you before. New experience; how did it feel?"

"I, uh, I really liked it. Thanks," Roxanne said quietly.

"Well, here's a condition of our buddy-ship: Since you kinda fucked up the rest of my day and got me all hot and bothered and I can't do a damn thing about it, you're gonna be my bitch for a while. Okay?"

"Uh, yeah, sure, Yvette; whatever you want baby."

Yvette bent forward and kissed Roxanne tenderly on the forehead trailing her fingertips around Roxanne's face. "I'm glad. But speaking of baby, there's one other thing and it's very important, just don't ask why: Don't ever, ever call me a whore. I'll break both your hands - slowly. I'll enjoy it too and as they say in the movie biz, 'you'll never work in this town again'," Yvette was so casual, so matter-of-fact in her threat of violence it made Roxanne shudder from fear - and for some strange reason, arousal.

"I'm the reason you call Gary Marsten One Nut; just something to keep in mind."

Roxanne desperately wanted to ask but didn't. Instead she asked, "Why do they call you Vette?"

Yvette smiled, "Two reasons. Like a Chevy Corvette I'm good looking and fast. And like a navy warship known as a corvette, I can be incredibly mean and swift in a fight. And, just a warning my large dyke fuck buddy, I'd say I win an average of 95 percent of my fights. You might want to remember that if you think you're going to take me by surprise sometime."

"Shit. I will. Will you marry me?"

"I'll have to ask Herbie," Yvette said enigmatically without missing a beat.