Chapter 27

Ellen is enthusiastic in bed. That’s a terrible word but it’s the best I can do. Then Zo came rushing in.

“JW?” She said.

“Huh? ... unh ... unh ... what? UNH UNH UNH,” I groaned.

“Oh ... she’s Okay?”

“Better than Ok,” said Ellen ... except there were pauses between words ... and I did hear my name shouted a few times.

Zo wormed her way between us and Ellen was off like a rocket. “Oh! OH! OH ... do that agai ... YES! ... THAT!”

Several minutes later she said, “STOP! Oh Please ... UNH!”

“That’s NOT going down, is it?” More a declarative statement than a genuine question. And made after she was breathing again. “Zo. You could give lessons to the Girls Club.

“Sir Ceiling?”

“Ma’am?”

“Is there restorative left?” Ellen asked, “Ah ... there is.”

Several glugs and swallows later, she said, “Is any one hungry?”

“Japanese stir-fry and sushi, please,” I said.

“Tempura?” Ceiling asked.

“Sure ... why not.”

Dinner was as glorious as any we had had in Tokyo, Osaka or Sasebo over the past three years. Ceiling is a good cook.

After the meal, replete, my interest popped up and it was off to the races ... again, Sam is wonderful about repairing over used delicate parts.

All good things ... and where that goes. The morning came when there were three folders on a newly constructed desk.

“Back to work,” said Ceiling. “You slackers!”

“Damsel 3, Addimae Orthodontist, has been on Chaos eighteen months twenty seven days three hours thirty one minutes,” said the folder... “Thirty-two minutes.

“She has managed to annoy the local honcho ... refused his advances, he has offensive teeth. She has been taken from her position as a nanny and placed in a dungeon ... there to rot or submit. He ... the honcho ... is actually fairly intelligent for a Chaosan ... he has discovered that skillfully sewn sheep intestine makes a dandy condom. If she’s not rescued soon the neighboring flocks will be decimated, poverty will reign. Addimae doesn’t mind the nightly fucking but the man will try and kiss her. Distressing ... but not life threatening.”

Zo had a look at the folder and the damsels picture. Hair black as night, startling blue eyes, impressive superstructure ... she tossed the folder to the desk.

“No.”

The second folder took over the narrative:

“Damsel 2, Jordan Journey, a cruise-ship guide and factotum applied for damsel status when she was eighteen, before she took the cruise-ship position.” Here the folder voice switched from folder to female, “I was just too bored for tears. Once you’ve seen one tourist port, you’ve seen them all. My captain twisted an arm or two and the Board accepted and sent me off to Chaos.”

“No boredom there,” said the folder. “She is in durance vile feeding travelers at an Inn days, and sucking cock nights. She is very good at both jobs, but is getting old... 25 ... and hasn’t ages a second...”

“No,” interrupted Zo. The folder joined folder three. She picked up folder 1.

“This one,” she said.

“You haven’t heard her story,” said the folder.

“Doesn’t matter, she’s beautiful,” Zo turned to Ellen, “She might have been your twin.”

“She is.”