The next morning, while Piper went downstairs to give Tony Savoldi the bad news about the mattress and pay him for a replacement, I thought more about how we were going to track down Cabot's package. I assumed it had already been missing at least some time before Deegan met us at Bunker Hill, and in turn several days had passed since that meeting. That meant that unless the courier was dead in a ditch and the package just abandoned, we weren't going to find it in the immediate area of Lynne Woods. Instead, we'd need to find clues about what happened and then follow those leads. For the third time in as many days, I lamented Nick Valentine's absence, and I looked to Winter for advice.

 

"I'm toying with the idea of making a detour to Diamond City to see if Ellie Perkins knows where Nick is. That'll add a few days, minimum, to this operation, but Nick's the best person I can think of for the job. How do you feel about that?"

 

Winter seemed to think it over before shaking her head. "That's a tough question. I don't know how much I like going back and forth, especially after that run-in with the robot hit squad. I mean, I guess its unpredictable if we keep changing our destination, but I feel like we're likely to run into trouble, too. But then again... if we don't find Nick, who's going to take the lead on the investigation?"

 

 

"I had your aunt Holly in mind. She did policing type work at Wolfburg and must know at least the basics of how to conduct a missing person investigation. But realistically, we'd handle the first stages - it would take her time to travel from Sanctuary to join us."

 

"Well, I'm not going to deny that Holly knows what she's doing, but Nick definitely has more practical experience. Maybe we split the difference? Meet the folks up at the insane asylum and learn as much as we can before we try to locate Nick? I guess that wouldn't accomplish much if he'd want to do his own initial investigation though. No, I think you've talked me into it. Let's visit Diamond City and then go to the asylum."

 

"Alright, good. I'm not going to wear the power suit to Diamond City - that's stepping on the Cabinet's toes a little too firmly. Give me a second to slip into my vault suit and then we should gather up the others."

 

"Yeah, see this is what I meant when I said it wasn't a great idea to put you in the suit. You're going to be changing in and out of it way too much. How about we trade and I wear it for a while."

 

I had mixed feelings about that, but getting Winter in the suit would at least mean that if we ran into trouble, someone would have that extra power at their disposal.

 

"That makes sense," I said. "OK, let's get changed then."

 

I wish we'd had more time to have some fun while we were trading off the power suit, but I'd already slept in a bit after my troubled dreams and late-night play session, so we had to hurry. Winter had the nerve to complain when I could only had about 200 ml of morning water to donate to her, but what can I say? After the bed-wetting incident I didn't have much to work with.

 

After we sealed her helmet in place and she finish swallowing the feeding and breathing tubes, Winter and I descended from the flophouse to join the others. Deb, the merchant we'd worked with the most, was also just getting to work, and she stopped me to ask if we needed any supplies before we left.

 

"If you see something you want, buy it, my stock goes fast," she told me.

 

 

"I noticed that," I agreed, "having trouble getting imports up this way?"

 

Deb rolled her eyes a little, "I blame Trudy... so I kind of blame you, too. Some of our regulars are starting to go to Drumlin Diner instead of Bunker Hill. Means it's slim pickings out here."

 

"I'm sorry about that," I said. "It sounds like Concord and Bunker Hill need to set up some kind of formal trade link."

 

She laughed ruefully, "yeah, talk to Old Man Stockton about that I guess. But I don't think you'll get real far right now - he's not really accustomed to having business partners, if you know what I mean."

 

I nodded. "This is the whole Bunker Hill Cartel thing I keep hearing about?"

 

"Yeah," Deb confirmed, "and I don't want to make light of it. The Cartel is serious business - doesn't just keep us alive up here, but it keeps Diamond City going, too. And that's getting more and more complicated every day it seems."

 

"So what do you think?" I pressed, "should I talk to him now? Or maybe... you volunteering to be an intermediary?"

 

 

Deb thought on that for a moment. At length she said, "that's not a bad idea, actually. Me being the intermediary, I mean. But I think you owe me some more information first. What's you offer? What do you want?"

 

"First and most important I don't want Bunker Hill to collapse, because I agree its part of why Diamond City is able to survive. So what I'd offer you is to set up a trade link between you and Drumlin Diner in exchange for, say, most-favored-nation status on trade agreements and you letting the Concord Rangers set up a permanent garrison here to supplement your private caravan guards."

 

"Explain most-favored-nation to me... I'm not familiar with that term."

 

"So I know you're going to look to get a certain margin on your trade. Some of that's how you price what you sell, but some of that's going to be the fees and costs you put on any independent traders who want to sell things here, and probably on the Diner, too, so it can't just flood the market with cheap goods and outcompete you."

 

Deb nodded, "sure, that's a big part of the Cartel's job."

 

"And you cut deals with different traders or settlements where maybe those costs go down a bit if they ship goods here that you're short on and generally make this a place where lots of buyers will want to come to."

 

She nodded again, "of course, that's just good business."

 

"So most-favored-nation status means that any deal like that you extend, you also extend to Concord. Basically, you agree that you won't screw us. You don't have to give us a better deal, just the same deal."

 

She thought about that a bit. "That's going to be a hard sell, but it could be worse. I think the more challenging part is going to be your Rangers. Everyone here is aware that Concord thinks they own this land already. And I don't think anyone here wants to just roll over and become part of your, um, what? Kingdom?"

 

"Let's call it a county for now. My long term wish is that we can reunite the Commonwealth, and before the war the different districts were called counties. But yeah, this would just be a Ranger post. No administrators, no governor, as far as I'm concerned the Cartek has title on this land and its private property, even if Charlestown as a whole is in our sphere of influence."

 

"Hmm," she thought, "a guarantee of this staying private property might go a ways. Tell you what: you give me some time to talk this over with Stockton and check in with me next time you visit Bunker Hill. No promises, but I'll make your case. Now, you buying anything?"

 

To be honest, she didn't have anything I really crucially needed. Most of her stock was the contents of that warehouse with the building supplies - which I bet Trudy would have loved to get her hands on but that wouldn't help me at the moment. I bought some ammunition from her and a dog-eared copy of True Detective Stories, but it was more by way of a 'thank you' for her offering to talk to Stockton than because I needed any of it.

 

By now we'd made the trip from Charlestown down to Diamond City a few different ways, and we decided to follow Storrow Drive most of the way. While no part of metropolitan Boston was really safe, my experience was that this particular route was a lot less hazardous than the alternatives. That held true this day also, though we saw more Brotherhood of Steel aviation moving up and down the Charles, which reinforced my concern that the Brotherhood didn't really feel any sense of obligation to respect the established sphere of influence. It seemed obvious to me that if the Brotherhood would coordinate with Concord, Vault 81, and the Minutemen, we'd all be able to operate more effectively. On the other hand, if the Brotherhood was set on going their own way, wasting resources on inefficient operations might at least slow down any encroachment they were planning for our own land.

 

 

Other than exchanging a few shots with some raiders near Boston University, it was a pretty uneventful hike, though right at the end we witnessed a rather gruesome spectacle. If you've ever been to Diamond City, you know about the wrecked tugboat at the BU Bridge. Nowadays its a customs post between Cambridge and Diamond City, but in those days it was a popular ambush spot for raiders. From the south bank we could see that the raiders had staked out some poor bastards - it looked like members of a rival group from their outfits - and some of them were still squirming.

 

The sight brought my mind back briefly to the daydream I'd had in Q-Town, and bizarrely I found myself feeling a little envy for them. It was such an uncomfortable intrusive thought... well, not even an intrusive thought. An intrusive feeling. But either way, it was deeply uncomfortable and I shook it from my mind before I could linger on it much more. 

 

 

"Should we put them out of their misery?" I asked.

 

"Fuck 'em," Heather said, "looks like raider on raider violence. Couldn't happen to nicer folks."

 

That was all the prompting I needed. Even back then I recognized that the Charles River bridges were a resource that I needed to take under my control, but I couldn't see any sense in doing so until we had better control over Cambridge. I know Trudy was already telling traders to not risk the BU Bridge, and I think that kind of travel advisory was the best we could do for the moment. So I let the unlucky raiders savor their fate while we turned south towards Fenway Park.

 

That last leg of the trip was interesting. As we approached the barricades surrounding Diamond City's entrance, I passed not one, but two patrols of mercenaries who seemed to be supplementing DC Security. I wondered if my little 'heart-to-heart' with Mayor McDonough had prompted him to finally improve the security situation. Of course, we'd only been away for a few days, so I suspected that might be wishful thinking. 

 

 

I had a real feeling that Diamond City just wasn't the same without the Publick Occurrences sign right by the entrance, but I consoled myself with the fact that soon it would be decorating a building in Concord. The absence of that landmark also made the Super Salon sign catch my eye, and that in turn reminded me that the Cabinet never had quite settled on the whole wig issue. Impulsively, I decided to force the issue by shaving my head again and getting a new wig. I did pick one out that matched my natural hair color though - call it a compromise gesture to the Cabinet. 

 

John was happy enough to accommodate me, and once he'd buzzed me back down to my scalp he found a nice lush wig that parted in a way where my Vault 111 tattoo was clearly visible - another point in think the Cabinet would approve of. I also had him give me a quick wax to keep that 'statuesque' look Stef seemed so set on. Suitably beautified, I poked my head into Home Plate just to let Brandy know I was in town and then spent some time in the market. I noticed immediately that there was significantly more variety here than in Bunker Hill. I read that as a sign that traders were getting in from the west even if the Bunker Hill connection was drying up. I supposed that boded well for Gwen, too, since any trade from the west was surely passing by Vault 81 on the way.

 

Curiously, though, I discovered the truth was a little more complicated: not only were goods indeed coming in from the west, but a trickle of trade was starting to come from the south. I wondered what that said about the state of affairs in Quincy and University Point, both of which I'd been led to believe were depopulated, and I made a mental note to range down that way if I got the opportunity.

 

 

With my snooping complete, I made my way to Nick's office, knocking on the door as I opened it. 

 

"Ellie?" I asked, "is Nick back?"

 

"Oh, hi Charley," Ellie Perkins said as I finished letting myself in. "I'm sorry, he's out of time working on a lead."

 

"That's what I heard," I said, "I was hoping you'd been in touch with him since. Nice outfit, by the way."

 

At some point, Ellie had traded in her rather careworn scarf and jacket ensemble for a pretty pink shirt and miniskirt. With the shirt tied in a knot that exposed her midriff and strategically placed garters drawing the eye to her thighs, she made for quite the sight.

 

 

"Thanks, Charley, I'm glad you like it. I'm, ah, I'm not brave enough to do the whole Concord look, but I thought I should try to look a little more stylish for Nick."

 

"He's a lucky guy," I said approvingly. "Did he say anything about this lead he was chasing? I vaguely recall something about him visiting Goodneighbor, but I don't think that was his final destination."

 

"Oh, no, it wasn't," she confirmed. "Nick's headed up the coast to a little place near Beverly. A settler there contacted him about a missing persons case and he said it might have had something to do with your case. He didn't tell me any more."

 

"Can you give me directions to this place?" I asked, "believe it or not, we're headed up to Lynne Woods so we'll be in the same general area. I think he can really help us with what we're getting up to over there."

 

Ellie explained to me that the homestead was on Brackenbury beach, near where Endicott College used to be. The client, Kenji Nakano, had reported his daughter missing and while Nick had been tight-lipped about the details, he'd told Ellie that he needed to prioritize the job because it might help 'break open', to use his words, my case as well.

 

I thanked Ellie again and gave her a quick hug before I led my companions back to Home Plate to confer.

 

 

"Thanks for talking me into this," I told Winter. "Really, if I'd known Nick was so close by and we'd missed him I'd have been really upset."

 

"No problem," my wife told me, "part of why I'm here is to give you good advice."

 

"So what next," Piper said, "are we going to pick up Nick and then loop back to Lynne Woods?"

 

"That's exactly what I had in mind," I admitted. "We've still got a good amount of daylight, so I think it makes sense for us to try and get as far north as we can tonight, maybe aim to rest at Greentop Nursery. After that, we need to follow Route 107 to Salem, then follow the coast up to Beverly Cove. That's where this beachfront settlement is located. We check in with Nick, see if he needs any immediate support, and then borrow him to help out at the insane asylum. Sound right to everyone?"

 

My companions nodded in assent, though Heather added, "we need to be careful on 107 - that's really a no man's land area. That whole area is full of raiders and mercenaries who use it as a staging area to points north, and outsiders aren't welcome. Plus, I've heard that Salem has... animal problems. A huge mirelurk nest, in particular. So we don't want to rush this or take risks."

 

"I agree, we should step lightly. Thanks, Heather, that's exactly the kind of information we needed."

 

"You can pay for it with a good bedtime story," she said with a wink.

 

I chuckled, then said, "I think we can arrange for that."

 

On the way out of town, I thought I heard someone call my name and glanced back towards Fallon's Basement where I saw two naked women trying to talk to passers-by, who were mostly ignoring them. I noted with some interest that they were wearing Neural Sentry collars.

 

 

As I approached them, I heard one of them addressing a passer-by, saying, "good afternoon, sir, do you have a moment to talk about Charlotte Ellison?"

 

The man gave them the cold shoulder, and when they turned to us next I thought the leader was going to faint.

 

"You're... you're Charley!" she gasped.

 

"I am indeed," I confirmed.

 

Next thing I knew, the two women were kneeling in front of me in a pose that looked like a cross between a kowtow and the doggie-style position. 

 

 

"OK," I said, "this is a little embarrassing. Can you explain to me why you're groveling."

 

The redhead, who seemed to be the leader of the two, raised her head up to look at me obliquely. "We're here in Diamond City to teach people about your heroic deeds. To convince them that you have to be first."

 

"Uh oh," Piper whispered to me, "Charley Firsters."

 

"Listen, please get up. You're kind of making a scene. And... now that I think of it, you two look familiar. Have I seen you before?"

 

Hesitantly, the women stood back up, and the redhead told me. "We used to live at Breakheart Banks. You saved us from the Super Mutants, and we decided to dedicate our lives to teaching people about you. We haven't worn clothing since you saved us, and we haven't slept with men. We're saving up donations to have the doctor sew us shut."

 

"Wait, what now?" Heather asked.

 

The redhead turned to her, smiling like she'd been wanting to say this for a long time. "Back in Concord, more and more people already understand why the Overseer has to be first, and so its enough to just take the herbs and pills, but here people don't understand. So once we can afford it, we'll shave our bodies clean and then have Doctor Sun sew our pussies closed with thick leather laces. They'll be bright blue, like our beautiful flag, and everyone will know the depths of our commitment. We'll only unlace them when the Overseer has a child again, because that will be the time for us to have our own children."

 

 

Her dark haired companion added dreamily, "imagine a whole generation of children to follow our Overseer's child, to support them and help them build a paradise on earth."

 

I... was conflicted. Part of me wanted to stop this in its tracks. It was bad enough that these women were turning me into some kind of religious figure, but self-mutilation like she was describing just crossed so many lines for me. Jesus, can you imagine what these people would do if Valery Gray really had cut off my arms and legs? On the other hand, their sincerity was really touching. And I'd read enough science fiction to know how trying to squash the Charley Firsters would just feed into the whole 'denying divinity is proof of divinity' meme. So I tried to walk a fine line.

 

"I'm so glad you two are safe," I started, "but I thought you were going to stay with Wiseman at the Slog. What changed your mind?"

 

The redhead answered, "back when we lived at Breakheart Banks, we knew a little about the Slog. We understood it was a safe place for ghouls who were outcast from other places. But I didn't know the whole story until you brought us there. I was so angry about the way Diamond City had treated them, I wanted to do something about it. Then one of the Minutemen told us about the pledge women in Concord were taking, to go out and do good in the world and not have children until you did. I knew this was the right thing to do, and I knew I had to do good in Diamond City. We're going to teach people about the way we live in Concord, we're going to teach them how everyone is a person, humans, ghouls, Synths, even Super Mutants. And when they realize that you can only judge a person by what they do, not what they look like or how they were born, they'll learn to stop being prejudiced and hurting innocent people. And then, once you lead the way, I'm going to have lots of babies to fill up the world."

 

It was a hell of a speech. Totally unpolished and chalk full of wishful thinking, but it was from the heart and fired with real passion. I knew then that even if I told them to stop they wouldn't listen to me. 

 

"That's a hell of a project," I admitted. "And you're brave to come here to share such an unpopular message. Do you talk to Brandy at Home Plate? If you haven't yet, I want you to check in with her and make sure she knows what you're up to. That way if DC Security gives you any trouble, she can check in on you and make sure you're treated fairly. Do you have food? A safe place to sleep?"

 

The dark haired woman smiled. "Takahashi always feeds us. For free! This is what I mean by everyone's a person. He's a robot, and he's... Chinese or something, but he's so nice to us."

 

"The Bobrov Brothers offered us a free room at the Dugout, but we didn't accept," said the redhead. "We sleep in the dirt every night, because Mayor McDonough doesn't give the poor people here a safe place to sleep. Just like we're going to wait to have kids until you go first, we're going to wait to have beds until the truly needy people go first."

 

"We do use the shower at the Dugout though," added the dark haired Firster. "We keep very clean because that's the way people live in Concord, and we want to teach the people here about clean living."

 

"Does anyone give you trouble?" I pressed.

 

"When we first got here, Myrna called the guards on us and said we were Synths from the Institute. But Brandy talked to DC Security and they let us out. Now sometimes people say mean things, and once or twice someone's tried to feel us up, but mostly..." the redhead sighed, "mostly they just ignore us. I think our message makes them uncomfortable."

 

"I don't suppose I can talk you out of this infibulation business?"

 

"Infibu-what?" asked the dark haired woman.

 

"Sewing up your pussies," I clarified.

 

The redhead looked at me almost pleadingly. "Overseer, if you tell us not to, if you tell us it's wrong, we'll stop. But I think this will really send a powerful message. I've already talked to Doctor Sun and planned it all out. He's going to do the operation in the middle of the marketplace, so everyone can see. He's going to use old suturing needles that have gone blunt so it hurts as much as possible, and the laces we got a rough so they'll burn as they go in and then as they get tightened. We'll get a big crowd, I'm sure, even if its just to see us tied to the surgical chair and totally exposed while Sun shaves us for the operation. We'll have them completely hooked. And they'll watch as we get pierced again and again, they'll watch as Doctor Sun criss-crosses the laces, and they'll listen to us scream from the pain and smell our blood, and probably our piss and shit, and then see us shut up tight. And then, we'll get up and talk to them. We'll explain why we did his. Why we have to wait for you, and why they should live by your example too. It'll be..." she gave a long and satisfied sigh, "...it'll be beautiful. And every time they see us afterwards, when they look at those bright blue laces, they'll remember it. We will burn our message into their minds and they will never forget."

 

Both women were blushing at this point and from the way their hips were quivering I'm pretty sure they were getting wet. So getting into Charley First hadn't just put them on a civil rights crusade, it seemed to have awakened some kind of dormant masochist streak in them. I shook my head, relenting.

 

"My concern isn't about whether this is right or wrong. You have to make that decision. I'm concerned that you were doing it because someone else told you to. What you're describing... this spectacle? I can only accept it if this was your idea from the beginning."

 

"It was," said the black haired woman. "We came up with it that time Myrna had us locked up. We spent the whole time brainstorming on the best way to get across our message if people were going to keep ignoring us to trying to make us go away, and in the end this is the one we came up with."

 

"Alright," I said, "if that's true, then you two need to follow your heart. I want you to understand one thing though, and I want you to make sure you tell any other Firsters you meet after this: the one rule I demand you follow is that you don't force anyone to live the way you've chosen, and you don't force anyone to keep living that way if they change their mind. In the time before the way, religious folks do a lot of good and helped a lot of people - but they also hurt a lot of people, and when they hurt folks it almost always came back to trying to control what other people did. Persuade, demonstrate, protest, model, mentor, teach, do whatever good things you want. But don't force. Never force people to believe the way you do. Understood?"

 

"Understood," the both said. The redhead in particular locked eyes with me intensely as she said it. Then the dark haired woman said, "Overseer, can we hug you?"

 

"Sure," I said, and I quickly found myself sandwiched between them. They squeezed me close for several second before both of them snuggled in and repeatedly kissed my neck.

 

"We'll wait for you," whispered the dark-haired Firster, "I promise."

 

 

With the knowledge that Storrow Drive was more or less clear, we made our way to Charlestown easily enough. From there, we took the Tobin Bridge and pushed north to County Crossing, then up Route 99 to the nursery.

 

As we settled into the guest room, Piper said, "well, that was something different."

 

"What?" I asked, "our missionaries?"

 

"Oh, please don't tell me you're going to start calling them that," she groaned.

 

"No, I want to keep as hands off as I can on the Firsters. I don't agree with the whole 'no children' thing they're doing, but I don't think I can really stop them without causing more problems. I'm going to limit myself to footstomping that I won't accept them forcing people into their beliefs and leave it at that."

 

"Even with the whole sewing thing?" Heather asked.

 

"Especially with stuff like that. Those two were about ready to cum just telling me about their crazy plan - they would have found a way to do something like that with or without me. So let them, I'm sure at least the crowd will be entertained."

 

"That's kind of cold," Winter said. 

 

I shrugged. "I have so much on my plate right now, I refuse to get drawn into those two and their little game. As-is we need to find Nick and take care of the situation in Lynne Woods. Midwifing a new religion is too much for me to add on top of that."

 

Before the others could say more I looked over to Piper. "I saw you flipping through that detective magazine. Found anything good?"

 

"Oh, I sure did. 'Detective Kowalski's Last Case.' Its the story of a detective trying to find a serial killer who strangles women and then leaves their bodies hanging in public places for the police to find. Sound interesting?"

 

"Sounds like something Nick would like," I said.

 

"Ha, probably," Piper agreed. "Well this is a long one, so I'm going to need some special attention, um, Heather. How about you come over here and show me what you did for Charley last night."

 

Heather smiled and god down on her knees in front of Piper as my wife settled into a comfortable chair. Kicking her legs up over the arms, she scooched her butt forward and started flipping through the magazine.

 

"Start licking, Heather," Piper said, "I don't start reading until you get to work."

 

Obediently, Heather leaned forward and ran her tongue down the middle of Piper's cleft, eliciting a little sigh form the journalist. "Alright, good. Keep that up. Here we go..."

 

"Detective Alex Kowalski of the Chicago Police Department left work early and was already getting off the highway, when the car phone rang. Alex looked at the caller's ID and scowled. Just great! There goes another free afternoon..."

 

Piper proceeded to spin the story of the detective, how she tracked down the criminal, and finally how he turned the tables on her. "Alright, Heather," she said, "now we're getting to the good part. I want to feel that tongue up in my ass, and keep it moving if you want to hear how the story ends."

 

Heather only hesitated for a moment before she started rimming Piper. I watched with interest for a little while, before laying back to get a little relief myself.

 

 

As I massaged my clit, Piper continued her reading.

 

"Still looking at Alex, Knoepfler reached blindly behind him, found the camera by touch, and pressed a button. The chubby blonde stirred. Moving much like a robot, the disposable hanggirl placed a foot against Alex's chair and stopped, awaiting further command. Knoepfler hit another button. It happened very fast: one moment the chair was a solid surface under Alex's feet; the next it lay on its side several feet away, and Alex? Alex was hanged."

 

"The noose squeezed her neck with more force that she ever thought possible. All her being suddenly concentrated in one narrow strip of skin and muscle that was being compressed, pulled, and torn savagely. It was as though the rope was trying to cut right through, to make the head completely separate from the top of the neck. The animal body reacted to this violence with much pointless motion: the torso bended and twisted erratically, the arms and the legs flew about, the muscles flexed and relaxed in total disorder. After standing on a chair like a statue, Alex regained the ability to move her limbs freely - for all the good this freedom was doing her now. But in a curious reversal, she could no longer move her head, not even a tiny bit. This was not due to any of Knoepfler's mind compulsions but because of a simple physical fact. The noose was gripping her head in a steel vise."

 

Needless to say, after that dream I had the night before, this really hit home. I could feel myself heating up as the final chapter played out, and at the same time I could hear Heather occasionally coming up for air before diving right back into Piper's rear end. Clearly, eating an ass lubricated with an afternoon's road sweat was a more than adequate price to get her evening story.

 

"A new sensation rose inside her, a result of a complex mixture of pain, sexual pleasure, and oxygen deprivation. Alex imagined herself in the hands of a giant lover, whose mighty fingers held her by the neck, squeezing the life out of her, but who, at the same time, was inflaming her deepest passions with skillful erotic caresses. Sometimes his attentions were like a wet tongue on her clit; sometimes like a monster cock in her pussy; but mostly, it was nothing like she ever knew before. Suddenly, being hanged naked made a lot of sense: who knew that hanging would be so much like sex? Gallows were Alex's marriage bed and she writhed in the throes of sweet agony. An indescribable sensation that was more that mere orgasm went on in wave after powerful wave, getting stronger with each of her body's paroxysm. In a rare lucid moment, Alex wondered if this was the essence of Knoepfler's gift. Perhaps. Or perhaps not: what if it was something experienced by every hanged woman in history? Who could say; none of them were alive to answer that."

 

I wondered if there was any truth to the account in this story. Was this what the raiders at Q-Town had experienced in their last minutes? If so, maybe I was kinder than I'd thought. I slowed down my pace a little, drawing out the experience while Piper wrapped up the story.

 

"Her womb felt like a steaming pressure cooker full of boiling water. Alex was right on the edge of a mighty climax; and had her throat not been closed by the noose, she would've cried out with lust. She parted her legs a measure, touched her quivering pussy with her thumb, and was right over the edge. The flood had become a great tsunami that swallowed her whole; her body shuddered as though shocked with high voltage. The heavy thing that filled her pussy swelled to an incredible size and burst like a punctured water balloon. A burning stream of liquid poured out of her, scalding her inner thighs and soaking the ground beneath. By reflex, Alex arched her back and spread her legs even farther apart, as she forcefully ejected large quantities of steaming pee. She remained in this position until the last sluggish drop had trickled down her foot and fell on the grass below; then she slowly moved her legs back together and straightened her spine. She undid her fists and stretched her arms alongside her torso. One by one, her muscles relaxed; and her half-open eyes glazed over. Afterwards, she simply hung - motionlessly, without a tremble or a twitch. The only movement was the wind, which played lightly with her hair, beating it on one side against her pale shoulder and a bluish, puffed cheek."

 

I rolled into my climax just as a yelp of protest emerged from Heather.

 

"The end," Piper said, laughing as Heather sputtered.

 

"You pissed all over me!" Our guide protested. "Charley, she pissed all over me when she got to that last part!"

 

It took me a second to cool down and recover my focus. Poor Heather's face and hair was drenched, and Piper managed to squeeze out one last little spurt of fluid before she finished.

 

"That wasn't very nice, Piper," I said. My wife just laughed, "sorry, dear, but Winter told me she wanted a show. And so I gave her one." Winter had been watching the whole time, still cased up in her power suit, and whatever expression was on her face was hidden from me by the opaque helmet.

 

"Are you OK, Heather?" I asked.

 

She shook her head a little, then wiped fluid out of her eyes before answering me. "I'm fine," she mumbled. "But I need a shower now. And you're right, that wasn't very nice."

 

"You liked the story though, right?" Piper asked.

 

Heather's sulk seemed to fade a little and she smiled slowly. "Yeah, that hit the spot. Just warn me next time you want to, um, put on a show."

 

By the time Heather had finished her shower, it seemed that all was forgiven as we piled into bed. Though I did hope that our own little detective story didn't come to such a dark ending.