In the Alley Ch. 02

Fiona G. and Mrs. Dulles

A sequel to: In the Alley Ch. 01

All characters portrayed are over the age of 18.

"Fucking shit. Argh, damn...who the fuck? What the hell...?"

Then the MOST unpleasant sound, of retching and vomiting; followed by a powerful vaginal fart...releasing all the perverted, cunt-filling semen that had fouled her body.

Dark thoughts of castration, of vengeance castration, crossed her mind.

"I will cut off their balls and fry them up, and have them for breakfast, while those foul beasts beg...beg and plead for their lives."

"Then I will sever their dicks from their bodies, and MAKE them swallow."

Fi...still hanging from the fence...watching...convinced that what she had just witnessed was not real...it WAS staged...staged exclusively for the pleasure of the woman now making vile threats against her 'perpetrators'.

'Edna'--Fi has remembered Mrs. Dulles' first name--Edna turns...unseeing...although Fi is just the alley's width away. SomeTHING has caught her eye.

The knife...the knife the gang leader used to cut the clothes off her body. The knife...partially folded...its blade an obscene parody of an erection. Edna stared at it, fascinated...obsessed...

She picks it up, and carefully closes the blade. With the folded knife in her hand, she slowly inserts it into her VAGINA!

"Holy shit!" exclaims Fi...thinking but not saying...some weird shit is going down.

Edna stood proud...with great concentration, willed that knife to stay inside her.

As if on cue, a well-dressed man emerges from the gloom. Carrying a blanket, he runs to Edna, covering her. Almost formally, she acknowledges the act with a nod of her head.

"Again? Edna? Again?" the man questions.

Edna smiles wanly.

Then surprisingly, as she had not acknowledged Fi's existence for several minutes, Edna looks at Fi and commands 'her man', "Cut her down and cover her. She comes with us."

"Edna, what is happening?!" Fi exclaims, as she is gently enrobed in the man's own jacket. A large man...he softly and insistently enfolds her, her arms done in a way that does not allow for escape.

At that instant, a car appears, and the three of them--Edna, her man and the entrapped Fi--pile into the back seat. Fi found herself between the man...who was easily in his sixties and smelled of cigars and bourbon, and Edna, who simply SMELLED.

Speaking to the driver, Edna, again in a commanding no-nonsense voice, "Call ahead. Have Beatrice draw two hot baths...one for me in the main bath and one for...err...what is your name dear? No, no, I have it! Fi G.! Ha...FIG...ha..." Giggling at her own play on words...she sobered. Hearing a problem at the other end, Edna interrupted. "Yes, Beatrice, Fi will use the tub in your suite...it cannot be helped."

Edna turned to Fi, and in a more subdued tone, confided, "You see, dear...there is only a shower in the guest suite, and that would not do with what you have been through."

Fi attempted to intervene with questions... "I won't hear of anything else...you will stay with me for the time being...the wolves will have trashed your place by now, and I will handsomely compensate you for your inconvenience. Oh, and you can have your job back at my firm..." Fi's eyes open wide in surprise. "But, instead of a secretarial assistant, you will be the office manager...more fitting to your education and expertise."

"But..." Fi manages to stammer, "I thought you were the office manager...?"

A tolerant smile played plays on Edna's lips. "No, honey...I play that act for the new hires, to test them out...no, honey, I run the firm...I OWN it."

"You FIRED me last week!"

"Yes...well, that was necessary for reasons you don't need to know.: "

A surprisingly short drive brought them all to an estate, just at the edge of town. Well, what would have been the edge of town in the 1900s. It still had some privacy with the expensive acreage that still surrounded it.

An ancient brick wall, still in good repair, seemed to surround the place, but the car entered through an automated gate that put them on a short-but-winding drive to the main house. On the way, they pass an old carriage house that is the worst for wear; carriages being out of fashion, it seems totally disused.

In a dreamlike state; tired, cold, dazed by the extreme change of her fortunes, Fi practically floated in through the main door. Clearly, the older gentleman--whose name Fi had deduced to be Robert, in the short car ride--expected to have to carry her in.

Edna managed Beatrice, the only servant present, "Please take Fi to your room, so she can bathe...in the meantime, place some fresh lounge wear in the guest room along with some sandwiches and an assortment of drinks."

Turning to Fi, "I am sorry I don't have time to explain things tonight; we can convene after breakfast tomorrow."

With that, Edna vanished down the carpeted hall lit by nineteenth-century sconces. Robert, weary, shrugged and gave Fi a small smile. "Keep the jacket, Beatrice will have it cleaned and returned to me. Goodnight."

Beatrice looked at Fi, with the patience of a longtime servant used to the foibles of her employers. "Follow me, Miss Fi," she said, in a very slightly accented English...Colombia, Fi thought, surely if not somewhere in the southern hemisphere but not Brazil...no trace of Portuguese there.

She led Fi to her room and opened the door to her private bath, where an ornate clawfoot bathtub sat in the middle of a tiled room, that held only the tub.

"If you need the other facilities, they are through the door beyond the tub."

Fi actually blushed, remembering the alley and how she had relieved herself there of what seemed like gallons of steaming piss. "No Beatrice, I am fine."

"If you say so Miss. I don't mean to rush you, but it is well past my contracted time and I will have to bill my employers for a lot of overtime...which they can easily afford, but they will make noise about it."

"Oh, of course...I will hurry with the bath...I am sorry to have been an inconvenience, but Edna insisted...the shower in the guest room would have been fine for me."

"Yes, Miss. And may I relieve you of Mr. Robert's jacket? There is a robe on the bench by the tub."

Beatrice seemed slightly disturbed by her sudden nudity and averted her eyes, as she received the jacket.

Fi did not bother with the robe and lowered herself slowly into the steaming waters of the very deep tub. She was able to completely immerse her small, thin body. The aches and strains of the day melted away. Whatever the composition of the bath salts, the effect was total relaxation and relief of stress.

Feeling guilty after luxuriating in the healing waters for half an hour, Fi exited the tub and dried herself off. She peeked in the other half of the bathroom, looking for Beatrice; she followed the sound of Beatrice's voice to a closed door.

"Dios te salve, María,

Llena eres de gracia,

El Señor es contigo,

Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres,

Y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre, Jesús.

Santa María, Madre de Dios,

Ruega por nosotros, pecadores,

Ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amén."

Now Fi was a self-styled 'heathen', but she did recognize prayer when she heard it. Loathe to interrupt Beatrice in her prayers, Fi waited for a break before knocking.

A short interval later, Beatrice opened the door in her flannel, ankle-length nightgown, clutching a rosary in her right hand. Her look was tired, but not angry or impatient.

"Yes, Miss?"

"Where am I to sleep, Beatrice?"

"Oh, I am so sorry Miss, I was so tired I forgot to show you. It is three doors down past the chapel and Mr Robert's room."

"Goodnight, Beatrice, sorry to be a bother."

"Oh Miss, you are not the bother, it is just the job." Beatrice smiled a tired smile, as though making light of her situation, in this house with Edna and 'Mr. Robert.'

As Fi left Beatrice's room, the corridor took a sharp right turn, so there was no view of the length of the corridor past Beatrice's room. The flooring changed also, no longer hardwood floors with oriental carpets for runners, the floor here was marble...cold on Fi's bare feet (she had missed the slippers in the bathroom).

On the right, she could see the arched entrance to the chapel, the wall sconces were spaced further apart on this part of the corridor, but as she approached the chapel, she could see it had no doors.

Appearing empty and abandoned, as her eyes adjusted, she could see two tall, thick candles to either side of a large cross suspended from the ceiling. Before the cross was a prie dieu, with a figure clad in a red tunic and a blue mantle, a barefooted woman. Staring harder, she could see the head was bent, reverencing the cross. After a moment, the woman's eyes were raised to stare at the corpus on the cross. In the candlelight, Fi could discern Edna's features.

She followed Edna's gaze to the corpus on the cross. Again, Fi was not religious, but this corpus seemed different...it was the Christ...or a Christ--a crucified man.

But the head bore no crown of thorns, no crown of any sort. The long, thin face showed suffering, but no wounds. The muscular chest and arms seemed classical, but the hands were bound to the cross piece, not nailed.

The corpus had well developed abdominal muscles, but there was no loincloth! The fat, flaccid uncircumcised penis proved that THIS Christ was not one of the Chosen People.

The lean muscular legs were bound to the upright as the arms were bound to the cross piece.

Edna continued to look at this Christ but NOT Christ.

She also appeared to be praying; her prayers were muffled, but definitely in English. Unlike Beatrice, it was not a formula prayer, but almost conversational.

"I kneel before you, crucified one, in THE Mother's robes although not a mother myself. She gave herself in belief. I hold myself for myself. I give to no one; I believe in no one. Still, I kneel to you, the crucified thief; you rejected the Messiah. A proud man, as I am a proud woman."

There was more...but Fi was getting uncomfortable standing there, still reeling from the narcotic effects of the bath salts.

In fact, there must have been incense in the chapel because the rest of the corridor seemed enveloped in a smoky-but-pleasant scent.

The glow of a computer screen lights a stretch of hallway before her, which must be from Mr. Robert's room. If she was feeling normal, Fi would have passed by, but in her current state, she was bound to investigate.

The door was open but a crack, Fi chanced peeking in; opening on well-oiled hinges, the door made no sound. Mr. Robert is wearing headphones and probably would not have heard in any case.

The only light is that from the computer screen. He is sitting there in his white shirt and vest, his tie loosened, his gaze fixed on the screen, his right hand on the mouse, and his trousers down around his ankles.

The screen is flickering images of men embracing, penises of various sizes and colors, in varying states of arousal. Mr. Robert's left hand appeared to be firmly holding his shiny, erect cock. Fi's view is obscured, but the pace of his stroking has increased just in the seconds she has been watching, and Mr. Robert's respiration is becoming more rapid.

In perfect timing with a cumshot on the screen, Mr. Robert shoots a sticky wad of ejaculate into a tissue, his right hand had fished from a box near the mouse.

Slowly, Fi retreats to her room for her snack and beverage, and??????

More to cum? If so, see In the Alley Ch. 03...sooner or later. Many thanks to my editor, kenjisato.

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