Stanley Steamer Ch. 04: Jeri & Pam

We froze and shut up.

"Mrs Riley, you will take ten steps to your right," the officer said. I moved as directed.

"All of you will turn around and place your hands on top of your heads." We did so.

Someone walked behind me, pulled my hands down, and zip-tied my wrists together.

"Mrs Riley, turn around. You others, do not move."

I turned and faced the officer.

"Mrs Riley, only you are named in the warrant. You will walk to the car when told. I will place you inside. Stan, you and the girl will stay as you are until you hear us drive away, and you are advised not to communicate with anyone about this arrest or else you'll be in custody too. Each of you say 'yes' if you understand." We echoed YES.

The dick's automatic was aimed at Stan and Jeri. The officer still pointed his revolver at me.

"Mrs Riley, walk slowly to the car and stand by the open door." I did so.

The officer walked around me, dropped a black hood over my head, and shoved me sprawling into the stained seat. He pushed my legs inside and slammed the door.

Front doors opened and closed. The engine started. We bounced to the byway, then along twisting, rolling asphalt to somewhere. The men did not talk. The car stopped. The men in front got out. The passenger door closed. Someone got in and drove. More driving, then we stopped again. A backdoor opened. I was dragged out, the hood still blinding me.

"Mrs Riley, walk forward," a new voice said.

Hands pulled my arms and pushed my back. I tried not to stumble. I was force-marched down short corridors and pushed through an open doorway. The hood was lifted from my head - by some other plainclothes dick. He snipped the zip-ties from my sore wrists.

"Have a nice day," he said, and left, the blank steel door closing behind him.

This featureless room looked like a prison isolation cell lit by an incandescent bulb behind thick glass and steel ribs. A thin, stained foam pad fixed to a concrete slab was the bed. Thrusting from a wall, a toilet with washbasin, crude water fountain, and cutout with a roll of toilet paper, did for drinking and sanitation. That was all.

I tried to blank my mind since the hood blinded me. That failed now. Daytime nightmares haunted me. I did not cry. I needed water. Eventually, I needed the toilet. Then I felt hunger. Eventually, I slept. I awoke still hungry but no food ever came. I knew better than to pummel the door and beg.

I do not know how long I was there, unfed. I shit something out a few times so it was more than a day. I made no noise when awake. I do not know if I ranted or cried when I slept.

Eventually the door opened - and Stan was there! With two obviously military men in suits, both with pistols held close in combat readiness, looking both ways down the corridor, not into my cell. And with Chop-n-Flop from the ambulance service! And a wheelchair.

"The crap is over, totally over," my big little brother said. "Time to go home."

I sat up on the bed. I could not stand. Stan gently embraced me and stood back. Beth and Liz quickly checked my vital signs and then helped me into the wheelchair. Our procession rolled down bleak corridors, one armed soldier in front, one behind. Stan pushed the chair. My EMTs followed. We emerged outside next to an ambulance I knew so well. The armed men flanked us now.

"No arguments, Pam," Liz said. "Up on the gurney you go."

I was laid out, strapped down, and loaded inside. Beth took the wheel, Stan took the copilot seat, and Liz took the medic bench by me. The soldiers closed the doors and stayed behind.

"No talk right now Pam, just relax, you're going to be fine, and safe" Liz said. She continued monitoring my vitals but let me have some soda crackers and apple juice. If Stan and Beth conversed, I could not hear them.

We rolled to the local med center's emergency entrance. I was quickly wheeled into an exam slot. Chop-n-Flop closed the curtains and eased me onto the usual narrow hospital bed. They and Stan stayed with me.

"What...??" I croaked.

"Just wait. First things first."

My good friend Dr Casey pushed into our space.

"Don't tell me you've been playing jai-alai again, Pam," he smirked, sticking a fucking cold stethoscope right between by boobs. I gasped, as intended. "You know what happens when you don't block it." He moved the icy torture device to several spots on my upper body, felt my wrists and ankles and belly, peered into my eyes, ran his hands down my limbs, and otherwise performed a thorough seventyfive-second examination.

"Okay, you'll live to bother us again. But you need a new diet. Your ribs are sticking out."

"Three days, Ben," Stan said.

"A dozen burritos and a couple pitchers of Modelo Negro should tune her right up. But small doses at a time. You know the routine." A buzzer sounded three times. "Hey folks, I've gotta run. We MUST stop meeting like this, Pam." He patted my arm and dashed away.

Stan stood beside me and held my hand. "We're almost done here, Sis."

ER nurse Betty opened the curtains about fifty seconds later. She waved her clipboard.

"Doc says you can go now, Pam. But no exertion for a week, easy on the food and drink, wear dark glasses outside, and stay out of the jai-alai courts - hey, that's no fun!."

Stan put heavy sunglasses on me. Chop-n-Flop eased me back into the wheelchair and outside... to Stan's lovely, silent Heidi, with Jeri standing beside it. Jeri! Our sweet cousin jumped toward me but Beth held up a warning hand.

"Easy there, girl," Beth said. "Pam is a bit weak now. Let's get her loaded in."

Her ragtop down, the stealthy Karmann Ghia's soft back seat was rigged for me to sit comfortably across, my back against the cushioned side, my legs not too bent. Beth and Liz slid me in from the passenger side and made sure I was safely strapped down. Stan took the wheel and raised the top to kill outside noise. Jeri twisted against her door so she could see and talk to me.

"Stan, can I tell her about it while you drive?"

"Go ahead. Just don't tickle me or spill my beer."

"You rat! Oh cuz, it was awful, and it was great! Those shits hauling you off like that! And they told us not to communicate, or else. But they didn't know about Tilly."

Tilly is the steamer pickup Waltzing Matilda, a daddy-long-legs on wheels, Stan's silent, lofty back-country mount. Bizarre to see, fun to ride. But what...??

"As soon as those shits were gone, Stan said, 'Not a word now.' He ran in the cabin and came out with his handheld computer. 'Gotta run,' he yelled as he keyed the barn open. I climbed into Tilly, we rolled out, Stan closed the door, and off we went on the smoothest track up that northeast ridge toward Piñon Peak. Tilly's motor was silent but we spun gravel and dirt with a little noise." Jeri caught her breath.

"We were high up and a couple ridges over, not in line-of-sight of anywhere south. Stan pulled between big fucking boulders that only let us see a narrow slot northeast - and it was a long way out and down from there. Stan climbed into the pickup bed and opened a case from a cargo hold. He setup a small dish antenna on a fancy tripod, right on Tilly's roof. He plugged a cable into a connector there and climbed back into the cab."

Stan was driving slowly, carefully, on paved side roads, not the main byway. He looked at me in the mirror.

"Tilly has surprises, heh heh," Stan said. "Many electronic secrets. Like encrypted narrow-beam wireless, and satellite link and bounce if I need it, stuff like that, almost all of it legal. Plug in my mini-laptop and she can whisper quite nicely into distant ears."

"So Stan aimed at a distant data dish - around Goldstone, right? - and connected with his corporate and agency guys," Jeri said. "And then stuff happened, but it took time."

Stan said, "It turns out that Bill's admiral dad applied some pressure after all. A private goon squad, and some corrupt brass, and a bought judge who issued a bogus warrant, all folks who will learn just how deep shit can be for them. Reassignment or resignation are no longer options. But don't expect any news stories." I shivered.

"Anyway, my contacts worked fast but untangling the web took time. We got a break. We found where the goons took you. The folks with me secured the place. We called for the ambulance. And you know the rest."

We reached the rough track to Rancho Relaxo after the circuitous drive. He drove slow. Jeri's Subaru was parked out front. Stan drove Heidi closest to the cabin's front door. He and Jeri helped me out - I needed it - and into the house, to my room, my bed.

"Wait," Jeri said. "Do you need help to the bathroom?"

I said, "Umm, that would be prudent." And just in time.

Done and cleaned, Jeri helped me back to bed.

"Okay, lunchtime," Jeri said. Stan brought in a cup of warm-enough chicken broth.

"Broth and energy bars every now and then, plenty of rest, push this big red button anytime, or just drop it and we'll be here," my big little brother said. He kissed me. No tongue. Jeri kissed me. With tongue. "Enough now," Stan said, pulling our cousin back.

It took a week. Chop-n-Flop stopped by twice a day to check on me. Caelia, Loralei, and Sara, the other shift boss, all came on their off-hours. Those were the only uniforms I saw. I was out of bed after a day and luxuriously settled in one of those impossibly comfy club chairs for most of the next couple of days, at bit less after that. Jeri or Stan were always near. But I ate, walked, drank and peed, and walked some more. I was almost normal soon.

I found that Jeri had taken "emergency leave" from the studio and Stan had canceled his planned trip. "I can always get new clients," he said, "but sisters take longer to housebreak." Alas, Jeri just HAD to get back to work after a week. I did not intrude on their bed time before she tearfully left.

"I love you, cousin," she told each of us, kissing us. I don't know who got more tongue. I liked kissing Jeri. She was like kissing myself, only younger.

The ambulance gang had stopped their visits. That left me alone with my big little brother.

Stan tried to sleep alone the night after Jeri drove off. I would not let him.

"You have saved me, really saved me. You are really my savior. I want to reward my savior. You told me to name a price. The price is us. All us. Love me and I'll love you. Hold me and I'll hold you. Suck me and I'll suck you. Fuck me and I'll fuck you. I've already tasted you. I want to taste more. I want to taste us together. That's my price."

"Sis, I-"

"Oh shut up and get your clothes off. Race you to bed!"

I got there naked first.

Yes, we hugged and kissed and sucked and fucked a lot, and fucked a lot more. Stan was tentative at first but I whipped his pansy ass into shape pretty quick. I always got him to do what I wanted when we were little.

Then very pregnant and horny Babs came by, and we all slurped and fucked a lot more. Babs says she does not know the father and does not really care. That was a wild party weekend with many suspects, and Stan is one. Hmmm.

Babs and/or Jeri and/or her friends Lorna and Mariana do not hesitate to visit for nights and/or weekends in bed with us, or with Stan, depending on my job shifts. I learned to love those girls too. They thought our situation was cute, not ugly, not like real brother-sister incest usually is.

I am back at work with long shifts. My divorce went through quickly. The shakeup at USMC Twentynine Palms and beyond only made minor news but I still avoid runs to Twentynine. Just in case.

Stan has to make his business trips but I am rarely alone here. Babs, especially, feels safe slurping with a medical professional. I am better than botanists, she says. Will my boobs and belly ever be so beautiful?

Oh god, Jeri wants Stan's babies! Will I ever be that crazy?

Will our cousin and I have my big little brother's babies? The 'cabin' sure is big enough. Will Stan need to build a steam-powered minivan to haul the bambinos? Hmmm.

Damn. Now I am thinking about babies. Damn.

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Next: Stan and cousin Larry swap pregnant sisters, etc.

Author's note: This story by Hypoxia Smurf is copyright (c) 2018. I tried to get most details right, even what I made up. My eyes are badly damaged; more surgery soon; I hope I caught most typos. I thought the Rancho Relaxo series was ended but readers want more so here we go. If you like this tale, join the 1% and VOTE!