Slut #4: Pleasure and Pain	The Due South Fiction Archive Entry    
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      	  Slut #4: Pleasure and Pain 
 by YS McCool  

 SequelTo: Slut #3: Wages

 

 Disclaimer: Due South characters belong to Alliance Television, no
copyright infringement is intended. Original characters are the sole
property of the author YS McCool.

 Pairing : Vecchio/Fraser Warnings: BDSM Rating : Mature audience Only
Summary : Ray surrenders and conquers while Frannie crosses her final line
with the family.

 Slut #4 Pleasure and Pain By YS McCool

 Ray looked into Benny's eyes with complete trust as his hands were
secured to the headboard. "Are you going to gag me?" he asked.

 "Never, My Own," Ben swore. "I love the sound of your voice. The joy in
it needs to be heard."

 "Okay," Ray agreed, relieved. He didn't think he could take being gagged,
even if it were Benny doing it. Not yet.

 "I cannot put into words just how luscious you are stretched out before
me," Fraser whispered. His face was beside Ray's and the heat and moisture
of his words against Vecchio's ear caused Ray to shiver.

 Ray whimpered as his face, neck, and nipples were lovingly licked. Benny
was very oral and could literally spend hours licking Ray's entire body.
Sometimes it was too much for Ray and he would roll away before Benny had
finished. He'd agreed to be tied down for Benny's birthday. It was his
complete surrender and his ultimate gift. Ray was Benny's to play with.

 "This is a mitt, My Own," Benny whispered as he placed his hand inside
the round furry item. "It's sable, the finest fur in the world."

 Ray's lower lip trembled, but he did not call out as the fur was placed
on his abdomen and circled outward until it was touching his nipples and
his groin. Benny split Ray's legs, gently cupped his balls, and then went
down on Ray's cock.

 "Jesus," Ray moaned. Somewhere above him the sex gods were laughing at
him. Raymond Vecchio, who had always felt a little superior to the men who
couldn't keep those kinds of feelings for another man in check, was all
but howling to the moon while another man sucked his cock and played with
his balls.

 He came, floated down, and began building up for another round. That's
the kind of power Benny had over him. Benny had turned him from all but
asexual to a madman for fucking, sucking, and li-li-licking. Benny was
licking Ray's ass and Ray was humping the man's mouth.

 Ben left him panting when that wonderful mouth was taken away. The, ah,
dental dam, yeah that was the name, the dental dam was taken away and
Benny's finger entered Ray for only the fourth time since they'd been
together. Vecchio wasn't sure which of them was more nervous about
penetrating him.

 "Ride it, My Own," Benny ordered softly. "Yes, you're getting closer now.
Soon I won't be able to stop myself and you will give me this most
precious part of you."

 The finger slipped out and was replaced by a dildo. Ray had seen it
earlier and knew it to be barely bigger than Benny's finger, but he felt
so full now. No pain, that was a blessing, but a strange sense of pressure
that was building, building until he would have to scream. Yes, God help
him, Ray was going to scream and he didn't know why.

 He looked Ben in the eyes and he was helpless to stop the words that
could not be denied. "Yes, Benny. Make love to me."

 Ray half expected the man to fall on him and just take him. After weeks
of teasing and turning away at the last moment, did he deserve any less?
Ben should pound Ray, bruise him, and thoroughly punish him for his
cowardice in their bed.

 Ben rained gentle kisses on Ray's face as he positioned him. Ray's legs
were placed over Ben's shoulders and his anus exposed. Ben placed the head
of his cock against the opening and eased in as if they had decades to get
the job done. Fraser inched inside, paused to stroke Ray's cock, and then
pushed a little more. It seemed to take forever to reach the point where
their bodies were fully joined.

 "I love you, Ray Vecchio," Ben said harshly. "Damn you for breaking me."

 Ray gasped as Ben pulled back and plunged in. 

 "Damn you, Ray, damn you," Benny chanted as his hips found a rhythm that
was making them both insane.

 Ray groaned and Ben continued to curse. When Ray felt tears on his
cheeks, he realized they were Benny's and not his own.

 "Don't make me cum," Benny begged in that same ragged voice. "Don't,
don't, don't," he panted. It was too late. Ray could feel the jerks of the
other man's thighs and hips as Ben emptied himself into the condom.

 "I'm lost to you, Ray," Benny moaned, tears choking his voice. "Totally
lost."

 "Untie me, Benny," Ray ordered. His hands were freed by two quick motions
of the other man. Ben stayed buried in Ray's ass and that fact didn't
bother Vecchio one little bit. He felt like he was holding the other man
together.

 Vecchio wrapped his arms around Benny, ignoring the pins and needles
feeling. "It's okay."

 "I've got nothing left for you, Ray," Ben sobbed. "You'll leave me now."

 Ray cupped Fraser's face and licked away the larger man's tears. "Benny,
I don't give my ass and just walk away. No other man will ever have me. Do
you understand?"

 Benny nodded and fisted his eyes to remove the flowing tears. Ray
captured the other man's hand and moved it away. "Do you love me, Benny?"
he asked.

 Benny nodded, his cheeks rosy with a deep blush. "I'm sorry. I was
supposed to keep it cool, but I've been yours almost from the day we met."
Fraser eased out of Ray. "You'll need to wear a butt plug or you'll be
very sore in the morning."

 Ray lay quietly while Fraser attended to him. Love? He hadn't thought it
was possible. Not from Benny. Affection? Yes. Joy? Definitely. Hot sweaty
sex? In a heartbeat. But love?

 How did he feel about this man? Ray reached into himself and found the
shocking answer.

 "There you go," Benny said softly as he stroked Ray back up to full
hardness. Ray's erection had withered away when Benny entered him. He was
impressed that Benny only seemed to get harder when Ray was fucking him.

 Ray got off the bed and pulled Benny up after him. He walked them out to
the balcony where Chicago lay sprawled before them. It was a warm night
and the breeze was refreshing. "Grip the rails, Benny."

 "Ray," Benny protested.

 Vecchio slapped the larger man's ass firmly. "Now," he ordered.

 Fraser grabbed the rail, pushed his ass back, and looked over his
shoulder. He licked his lips as he watched Ray prepare them both. "My
Own," he moaned.

 "Exactly," Ray agreed as he firmly pressed into Benny. "I want you to
tell me you love me, Benny, but not while we're fucking. You have to tell
me in a restaurant. You have to do it in a movie theater. You have to
swear to it in a park. You have to tell my mother you love me. Any man can
tell his partner he loves him when he's got his cock in them. You've got
to tell me when we're dressed and strangers might overhear you. Tell me
then and I'll tell you the same."

 Vecchio kept slamming into Benny until he was so close to cumming he
couldn't talk. Yeah, this was the way to cum. Ray shot off inside Benny
and Benny's cum decorated the rails. Ray kissed the larger man's neck and
back. "I'll be waiting to hear those three words and they will make me
very happy."

 Ray eased out of the trembling man and helped his lover back into the
bedroom.

 ----(V)----(V)----(V)----

 Sophia Vecchio had never been to The Tea Room before and had only ridden
in a limousine after a family member had died. Most of the neighborhood
had seen her being driven away and she was sure the gossip about it would
float around, with proper embellishments, for weeks. They also saw the
flowers being delivered to the house every Monday without fail. What they
did not see was her son Raymond. Her son had not come home and this tea
would tell her if he was ever going to come home.

 The two men stood up as she was escorted to their table. Both of them
were handsomely dressed in Armani suits and looked like they visited the
barbershop regularly. Ray looked happy and Sophia couldn't remember the
last time he'd been happy. Certainly not since Sheila had left him.

 Benton kissed her cheek and Ray held her chair.

 "You look lovely, Ma," Ray said, his face beaming. "Did you enjoy your
day at the spa?"

 "Yes, I did," Sophia admitted. "Now I see why people make such a fuss
over going." She sat down. The chair was surprisingly comfortable.

 "Would you like to go again next month?" Benton asked. "With all you do,
Sophia, you deserve the treat."

 Sophia smiled at the kindhearted Canadian. Such a sweet boy. "Honestly,
Benton, as much as I would enjoy returning to the spa, I would enjoy
preparing a big family dinner for Ray's birthday more. Would the two of
you come to the house and celebrate that day with us?" she asked, nearly
begged.

 Ray looked at Benton before he spoke. That was a bad sign for the family.
It was a couple's motion. "Ma, I don't know. I'm not up to hearing
everyone complain how hard it is to pay for things. No one wanted to
listen when I was telling the same story."

 Sophia knew a good portion of her daughters' attitude could be traced
back to her door. How often had she told Ray to "be a man" and "take care
of the family"? She'd raised her daughters to believe men were supposed to
take care of them. Even if that man was their brother. Their father had
certainly never filled the role.

 It was Ray, her beautiful caring son, who had cared for all of them until
he literally had nothing left for himself. Nothing. No wife, no children,
and no way to care for himself in his old age.

 That was the legacy Sophia had given her son. Nothing. She's taught him
to be giving and the family felt it was their right to take and take.

 "I can't promise you they won't start, Ray," Sophia began, "but I can
promise you that your nieces and nephews want to see you very badly."

 Ray said nothing and the silence stretched until the waiter took their
orders. Sophia's menu had no prices on it. Either each meal cost the same
or this place was even more expensive than she'd thought. So expensive
that they didn't want your guests to know how much was being spent.

 "How is the rest of the family doing, Sophia?" Benton inquired, his face
attentive.

 "Tony has a job," she announced.

 There was a lot more to it. Tony had to be carried up to his bed by two
strangers after going on a bender instead of looking for a job. Maria had
kicked him out. Tony stayed with his parents for three days until they
also kicked him out. He'd slept on the streets for one night and got
himself a job the very next day. He'd had it for weeks now and never went
in late.

 That one night on the streets, which he told his children was just a
taste of what he could expect for the rest of his life if he didn't buckle
down, terrified him more than what had happened to him while he was drunk.
Maria had let him come back. He was still on probation with her.

 "That's nice," Ray said with no trace of sarcasm.

 "How is Maria?" Benton asked politely.

 "She's doing well. Maria earns extra money at the boutique by doing
alterations. She's always been the best in the house when it came to
sewing." That had also nearly been a disaster as Francesca had "borrowed"
one of those expensive dresses and returned home with semen on it.

 Maria lost it. Tony had barely kept her from hitting Francesca in the
face with a hot skillet. The dress had to be replaced and it had cost
$2499. Maria's boss, impressed with Maria's honesty, had allowed Francesca
to replace the dress at the wholesale rather than the retail price, 1200
dollars.

 The two thousand Ray had given her had already been swallowed up by the
quarterly property tax, utilities, tuition, and a dental bill.

 Everyone, including Pauli, had to throw in for that dress so Maria
wouldn't lose her job. Francesca now had a Haute Couture dress and the
family was eating pasta topped with sauces Sophia already had stored in
the pantry.

 Sophia had traded her homemade jams and jellies for fresh eggs, milk, and
cheese. She made bread, selling extra loaves for cash, and did not tithe
for the first time in her adult life.

 They were falling apart without Ray.

 Pauli spent most of his time telling his cronies how broke he was now
that he had to pay rent even though all of his friends paid twice as much
for far worse accommodations. He didn't even notice how little they came
around these days.

 Maria was no longer talking to Francesca and barely to Tony. She worked
as long as she could to meet their share. The loss of the dress had nearly
broken her as she carefully counted her pennies to keep her children fed
and a roof over their heads. She had never seen herself and Tony as
failures until Ray had walked away. It was killing her.

 Tony was showing more shame than a drunken brawl would indicate.
Something truly terrible had happened to him on the streets and it haunted
him. Sophia hadn't known the man understood shame until the day he'd come
back to announce that he had a job.

 When the money had to be gathered to pay for the dress, Tony had sold his
comic books, his sainted "collection", to cover his share. Tony wasn't
speaking to Francesca either.

 Francesca was an island of ill feelings in the center of their home. She
whined over the loss of her deposit for her own place to pay for a dress
Maria didn't have the sense to have dry-cleaned. She didn't care about the
boutique's reputation, her sister's honor, or Maria's job. Francesca only
cared about herself. Sophia was close to putting her own child out of the
house.

 Their drinks arrived, quickly followed by their salads. It was the first
fresh greens Sophia had all week. Normally she purchased just enough fresh
produce for the week but with no money left until the next paychecks,
there was no fruit or fresh greens in the house.

 Perhaps she made too big a fuss over it because both Ray and Benton were
staring at her. "It's good," she explained.

 "You've made better," Benton countered. "I know because I've tasted it.
What's happening at the house that you're not telling us, Sophia?"

 Sophia couldn't come up with a good lie nor could she find a better word
for semen. The entire sordid tale of Tony's drunken day, his night on the
streets, and the soiled dress came out.

 "I thought my talk with Francesca would have had better results, but I
see she needs a refresher." Benton gently squeezed Ray's hand. "I'm sorry,
love."

 Sophia was not surprised. She could see Benton falling in love with her
son from the beginning. A straight man would have insisted on the couch
and not sprinted upstairs to throw themselves into Ray's bed. When Benton
came to the house for the second time, he'd immediately sent his things to
Ray's room as if that was the only place he could spend the night.

 What did surprise her was the angelic smile on her son's face as he gazed
down at their joined hands.

 "Yes, Sophia, I love your son," Benton answered the question that must
have been on her face. "One day I hope to earn his love in return."

 "You've already got it," Ray assured the other man.

 So the game was lost. Benton Fraser would never let her son go now. The
family had lost Ray. No, not lost, they had forced him away like a mangy
cur found overturning the garbage cans.

 "The family would still like to see you, Ray. If you already have special
plans for your birthday, then consider spending a day or two of your
vacation with us. It is coming up, right?" she asked. "The kids would love
to spend the day with you."

 "And spend and spend and spend," Ray countered. "Funny how a day running
around the park is good enough for their dad but they always want pizzas,
movies, and amusement parks when they're with me."

 "Ray and I are going to Hawaii and then San Francisco for our vacation,"
Benton informed her. "It's going to be a trip we'll never forget."

 "It certainly will beat what I did last year," Ray remarked as their
entrees arrived.

 "What was that?" Benton inquired.

 "I patched the drywall where the kids had destroyed it, painted the
kitchen and living room, and replaced the hot water heater," Ray answered.
"My only indulgence was sleeping to nine o'clock every morning."

 Benton looked in pain. "Did Tony help?"

 "Does bitching about paint fumes count?" Ray asked sarcastically.

 "Not at all," Sophia assured her son. Nothing counted.

 The subject was changed and Benton began to speak about the flower show
and his displays, which Ray bragged on endlessly. There was big money
connected to the ribbons in the show and hotels often purchased from
vendors who won for the honor of placing the "Blue Ribbon Winner of the
'whatever year' Chicago Flower and Garden Show" plaque in their lobby
underneath the display. 

 It was a pleasant meal, over far too soon. Ray ordered a chocolate pie
and a coconut cream pie for Sophia to take home. They walked her out to
her limo and kissed her goodnight.

 "I'll have the driver take you to the grocery store, Sophia," Benton said
as he pressed several one hundred dollar bills in her hand. "Do not let
any of the family know we gave that to you."

 Sophia nodded, knowing shame because he was right. The family couldn't
know she had this cash or it would be spent instead of saved. She kissed
the man on the cheek. "You're a good son, Benton."

 "Thank you kindly, Sophia," Benton replied, looking surprised at her
words.

 "Call me, Ma, Ben," she said softly. The door closed and she was taken
away. Sophia looked back and saw Benton's arm possessively around her
son's waist. "Keep him happy, Benton, because we failed Ray so miserably."

 ----(V)----(V)----(V)----

 Francesca looked up from her mirror, where she was applying just a hint
of blush, to see her nephew in her doorway. It was a surprise as no one in
the house seemed to want to talk to her since "the dress" incident. 

 "Aunt Frannie, there's this huge man with a sports car at the door asking
for you," Tony Junior reported. "He looks rich."

 Frannie changed from frump to fabulous in about nine seconds and almost
beat her nephew down the stairs.

 The man in question was well over six feet tall, sandy haired, blue eyed,
and dressed in Calvin Klein. He was gorgeous. He smiled. "Hello, Miss
Francesca, my name is Ren Turnbull. Mister Fraser asked me to drive you to
his estate."

 "Really?" she asked, moving closer. "Why is that?" Frannie was fairly
certain that Benton Fraser hated her guts for her "thoughtless and
continued cruelty to Ray".

 "Because you are to be mine tonight," Turnbull said taking her arm and
leading her outside.

 The sports car TJ had announced was a Lamborghini Murcielago that didn't
look street legal. Everyone in the neighborhood was looking at it. How
could she refuse to climb in?

 Turnbull held the door open for her and she slipped inside.

 "How long have you had this car?" she asked once the big man was inside.

 "Less than a month," Turnbull responded. "I miss the leg room in my Range
Rover, but I was itching for something new and exciting." He smiled at her
as they waited for the light. "You know how it is."

 "Yes I do," she agreed as she ran her hands along the leather. "What's
this estate like?"

 "A mansion with thirty or so rooms, indoor and outdoor swimming pools,
water gardens, Japanese garden, rose gardens, fountains, walking paths,
whipping posts, dungeons, greenhouse, a bistro, a glassed-in outdoor gym,
and a giant champagne glass you can bathe in."

 Frannie stared. "Whipping posts and dungeons?"

 "Yes," Turnbull agreed.

 "What does Benton want with me?" Frannie asked nervously. She remembered
her whipping all too clearly. It was incredible that for all she had
suffered, within a day there wasn't a mark on her.

 "You may only call him Master Fraser or My Lord, anything else will get
you punished," Turnbull warned as he smartly maneuvered the powerful car
through traffic. "Or in your case I should say add to your punishment."

 "Okay, I'll play. What does Master Fraser want with me?" she asked. "I
haven't spoken to Ray since he left the house."

 "He knows about the dress, Francesca, and he is very displeased,"
Turnbull announced. "He is so displeased that he has given you over to my
care."

 Frannie looked at the fine clothes, the Rolex watch, and the outrageous
car. "And what are you going to do with me?" she asked flirtatiously.

 "Show you the error of your ways," Turnbull explained.

 . . . .

 Frannie twirled around in her fine ball gown and kicked her heels. If
this was Turnbull's idea of punishment, he could punish her every day for
the rest of her life. Never had she worn such a fine outfit. Never had she
felt like such a queen as she did right at this moment. She was stunning.

 Turnbull opened the door without knocking. He was wearing leather pants
and harness and carrying a whip. "Come with me," he ordered.

 Frannie walked along with Turnbull, loving the sensation of the silk
touching her skin and the height her new shoes gave her.

 "Stand here," Turnbull ordered. "When the doors open, you will walk
slowly forward. If you rush, you will be whipped right away, if you
attempt to turn back, you will be whipped. Keep your pace in sync with the
drum."

 Frannie felt really foolish as the double doors opened and the drumbeat
began. Over her head she could see naked men smiling down at her and
stroking their cocks. It startled her. But not as much as when the first
bit of spunk landed on her neck. The men were jacking off on her and her
new dress.

 She tried to pick up the pace but the whip caught her across the back and
tore a strip out of her dress.

 "You were warned," Turnbull reminded her as he drew back his whip. How
could she have missed seeing that?

 The sight of her being whipped seemed to spur some of the men on and more
and more spunk began to land on her. She was covered in it. It clung to
her hair, her skin, and clothes. It made the floor slippery and she fell
twice and was whipped until she regained her feet. By the time she made it
to the end of the hall, Frannie was a wreck. Her hair was sticking to her
head, her nails were torn, her dress was ruined, and one of her heels was
broken. She sobbed.

 "Silence," Turnbull ordered as he stripped her down and threw her soiled
body onto some kind of platform.

 Frannie was secured at her waist, wrists, and ankles before the platform
was moved. Now she was clinging to it like a fly to the wall. "Please, I'm
sorry. Let me get cleaned up. My dress, my dress is ruined."

 "It can be mended and cleaned, Francesca," Turnbull soothed. "You can
have it back." 

 "I don't want it," she declared, disgusted by the thought of ever seeing
the dress again.

 "But you were more than willing to give another woman a semen-soiled
dress," Turnbull reminded her. "Why are you so much better than her?"

 Frannie had no answer and she had no lie. The whip ended all
conversation. Turnbull whipped her until she passed out.

 When she awoke, Frannie was still secured to the wall. "Where?"

 "Where you were destined to end up, I think," Fraser answered from behind
her. "Turnbull did an excellent job on your back. It's picture perfect. If
Ray wasn't so wonderfully possessive, I'd fuck that boy right now."

 "Fraser, I want to go home," Frannie begged.

 "Master Fraser," Fraser corrected. "You have no home, Francesca. You've
been kicked out."

 "What?" Frannie shrieked. Her family wouldn't do that, no matter what.
Even if they'd found out that she'd... oh, damn.

 "Francesca Diana Vecchio, you got a credit card in your sister's name and
ran it up to the limit. That is a felony and you will spend the next five
to seven years in prison," Fraser announced.

 "Nooooooo!" Frannie screamed.

 "You have one other choice," Fraser said magnanimously.

 "What?" she asked from her raw throat.

 "Turnbull would like to buy your contract and make you his personal pussy
for two years. You will wear his collar, ride his enormous cock, and keep
yourself naked for him at all times," Fraser chuckled and it sent a chill
down Frannie's spine. "Turnbull is very rich. He could buy me out if I had
the whim to retire and he is very imaginative. You'll have to work hard to
keep him entertained."

 "What about my job and my family?" Frannie asked.

 "Turnbull will be your job and as far as your family is concerned, you
are dead to them." Fraser turned Frannie's head toward him and it hurt her
entire backside. "How in the hell did you expect Maria and Tony to pay off
five thousand dollars?" He looked ready to spit in her eyes. "You sick
bitch." 

 Fraser flapped a contract in front of her. "Sign where indicated and
become a kitten or go to prison."

 Frannie thought about prison, about having a record that would dog her to
her grave and about the prisoners who would make her their bitch. Turnbull
was nothing compared to that. "I'll sign."

 A pen was placed in her hand and she was barely able to put her signature
on the indicated lines.

 "She's all yours, Ren," Fraser announced. "Will you entertain us with
her?" he asked, his voice almost a purr.

 "Indeed, My Lord," Turnbull responded. 

 Frannie could feel the platform flipping over until she was hanging over
the floor with the surface of the platform above her. A huge pink cockhead
forced its way into her mouth and pumped.

 Men and women walked by, commenting on Turnbull's technique and what a
dirty filthy bitch she was because she was covered in spunk.

 The cock was removed from her mouth and the platform returned to its
original position. Frannie's ankles were freed and her thighs forced
widely apart. The rampant pins and needles in her legs didn't stop her
from noticing the big cock forcing its way into her cunt. Frannie screamed
and the crowd applauded.

 "Stroke, stroke, stroke," they chanted as Frannie was fucked. Two large
hands gripped her sticky breasts and twisted as the cock inside her seemed
to be coming out of her throat.

 "Stroke, stroke, stroke," they called.

 "Do her ass!" someone shouted.

 "Whip the dirty bitch again," someone else added.

 "Fist her!" yet another suggested.

 Frannie closed her eyes and dropped her head, trying to work out how she
had ended up like this.

 The man, Turnbull she guessed, came like a racehorse inside her. She
could feel it coming down her legs.

 Her hands were released, but the cock stayed wedged inside her. Frannie
was lifted up so that her feet did not touch the floor. Turnbull walked
around, showing off her naked, whipped and cum-smeared body with his giant
dick still in her very stretched pussy.

 When they got to the doors, Turnbull lifted her off his cock and handed
her over to two other men. "Bathe and style my kitten and then take her to
my chambers. I'll pick her up when I'm ready to leave."

 "Is the party over?" Frannie asked, trying to assert herself.

 "Make sure her cunt and ass are ready for me," Turnbull continued as if
she hadn't spoken.

 "Do you wish her shaved, Milord?" the man on the right inquired.

 "Yes, shave everything but her head and her eyebrows. Start her out on a
number two butt plug," Turnbull ordered. "It felt virgin to my finger."

 "Wait a minute, no one shaves me," Frannie growled.

 Turnbull turned a look on her that would have frozen Niagra Falls. "You
do not speak, you do not attend parties, and you do not protest my orders.
You are my kitten." The big man looked at the other two men. "Take her."

 Frannie stumbled away. She could see that the people were totally
ignoring her now as a beautiful young man was getting his ass fucked on
the same platform she had been on. She had been forgotten that quickly.

 . . . .

 Ray watched his sister being taken away. He was glad that Benny had
another alternative to sending her to prison. Either way, she was lost to
the family and to herself.

 "Are you okay, My Own?" Benny inquired as he nuzzled Ray's ear.

 "Liar, thief, embezzler... I was just wondering if Ren could straighten
her out in only two years?" Ray turned into Benny's arms. The larger man's
presence was very comforting.

 "Two years of servicing Turnbull's big cock would change anyone's life
and attitude." He kissed Ray like it was the first time. "I was too angry
to take her but Turnbull has no emotional connection with 'she who shall
not be named'."

 Ray sighed. "The family will tell everyone Frannie ran off with the guy
in the sports car. They'll all believe that."

 "Because it's true." Benny kissed him again. "Come, My Own, Philip is
getting his cherry taken and everyone knows the tears of a virgin are good
luck."

 Ray snorted. "Is this another one of your farfetched Inuit tales?"

 "Actually, this one is French," Benny corrected.

 Ray chuckled. Only Benny could make him laugh now. "I should have figured
that part out myself."

 The End or Continue?  
  

End Slut #4: Pleasure and Pain by YS McCool 

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