Chapter 17 - Prosecutor Jane
Jane awoke groggily, her head throbbing like the hammers of hell. Her mouth
hurt like blazes. She tried to raise her hand to her aching head but was unable
to. She opened her eyes. A brief, horrifying glance told her everything.
She was naked on her back in a hospital bed with steel rails on either side
to keep her from falling out. Her wrists and ankles were cuffed to a rail on
either side. She was lying on a plastic sheet. Jane began to worry. Then she
realized that her tongue was gone...
Gretchen watched Jane over the secret surveillence cameras. She waited until
Jane couldn't hold it in any longer and was emptying her bursting bladder on the
plastic sheet. That was the moment she chose to make her entrance. Gretchen
grinned.
"Sounds like rain on a tin roof! And the smell! Have you know shame, woman?"
Jane blushed violently. Gretchen toyed with the public prosecutor's pubic
hair.
"You remember me?"
Jane nodded. She had very quickly given up trying to speak. It was much too
painful.
"Dr. Baumann has the word put out that you're in a permanent coma,courtesy
of the kick to your head. Your husband said that it was probably for the best
as, without your tongue, you probably wouldn't think life was worth living.
Hospital bills to keep human vegetables alive are awesomely expensive. Your
husband said that you two had discussed it and it was OK to pull the plug. Dr.
Baumann explained that there was no plug to pull. You were almost completely
brain dead probably, but could live for another thirty years or more, kept going
by your autonomic nervous system, a glucose drip and good physio-therapy."
Gretchen shook her head in mock sympathy.
"Your husband seemed really depressed, thinking of those huge medical bills
sucking the life out of him. Dr. Baumann cheered him up a lot when he said that
he'd keep you here in a bed, free of charge, as he felt badly about what had
happened. Not that anybody thought that it was anything but your own
over-confident stupidity."
The tongue-less lawyer's eyes were darting nervously, like a frightened bird
trapped in a cage with a viper. Gretchen's voice oozed sympathy.
"I know you must be a bit distressed but, after I've wiped up your pee, I've
arranged some entertainment to cheer you up. You remember Groper, also known as
The Fisting Rapist?"
Jane felt like her heart had been ripped from her chest and stomped on.
"In case you've forgotten, he was in the habit of oiling a victim up from
head to toe and then working his fist into her cunt."
Gretchen watched with satisfaction as Prosecutor Jane's eyes grew huge.
"The good news is that he's really developed as a human being while he's
been here. Now, he's into anal fisting as well!"
Nurse Gretchen left the room for moment and returned with Groper and a slim,
hyperactive man who was wearing only a t-shirt. The t-shirt had I'M WITH STUPID
printed on it, with an arrow pointing downward to his erect penis.
Groper had a huge bottle of baby oil. Jane gasped as he quickly went to work
between her parted legs with his large hands and long, strong, deeply probing
fingers. Groper was affable.
"I'll start by oiling up your holes. Then you'll have a quick interlude with
my colleague. You remember the Bunnyfuck Rapist? A fast, but frequent flyer?"
It was clear from Prosecutor Jane's expression that she remembered him
clearly.
"After that, I'll oil up the rest of you."
He looked at her with a true connoisseur's eye.
"You've got a nice rack. We'll spend some quality time there. After you're
dripping with baby oil, it's over to my colleague again for a quick romantic
interlude. Then I oil up your holes once more and we get serious."
Jane grunted as strong hands prised apart her tightly clenched buttocks and
long, probing fingers began deftly opening up and oiling up her asshole...
* * * * * * * *
