Chapter 17D

I had to shut him up. Not to keep his screams from being heard by the neighbors — I was certain that everyone in this neighborhood belonged to Mind Your Own Business rather than the Neighborhood Watch — but because he was hurting my sensitive ears with that awful wailing. I closed my hand around his balls and twisted.

Greg sucked air and became instantly quiet. He was convinced that he was seconds away from castration, followed by cannibalism. Even though the pain was making his eyes cross, he remained perfectly still and attentive. It was time for my pitch.

"I'm going to give you one chance to keep your balls, Greg." I didn't bother trying to sound menacing. It would have been overkill. I let him absorb the concept that there was a way out of this for a few seconds, then I went on. "Your sister and your niece need you. They need you to pretend to be a man until they can get back on their feet. A man shoulders his responsibilities without trying to extort sex from the people he is supposed to protect. You need to decide if you are a man or not. Because if you are not..." I squeezed his balls for emphasis "... if you are not, then you won't be needing these!"

My pitch was interrupted by a stream of urine jetting from Greg's penis. It showered his chest and splashed his face and he seemed unable to stop it. I waited until nature had run its course before I went on. I knew I had his complete attention.

"In case you hadn't noticed, Greg, I'm a female." I shook my breasts unnecessarily and his eyes dropped to see the action. "And females of all species stick together. If I have to come back here again, I won't be leaving without a snack."

I wanted to give his balls a last sharp twist, but after seeing his bladder let go, I decided that I had done enough to poor Greg. I climbed off the bed and walked to the door.

"Don't even think of running away, Greg. There isn't a hole deep enough for you to hide in if you run. I'll find you. And when I do, I won't stop at your balls." I wasn't completely sure what I meant by that, but Greg was. The musty stink that suddenly filled the room told me that another of Greg's sphincters had let go.

"And wash those sheets!" I said as I pulled the door shut behind me.

I dressed quickly and left immediately. When I got outside, I was me again. I walked casually down the block and around the corner where Neeka could pick me up out of sight of the house.

"Well, that was disgusting," Neeka said as she drove back to the main road.

"If he had pissed on me, I would have ripped his balls off," I said, emphatically, but not really meaning it.

"I think he thought you would anyway. All the same, that's not the disgusting part. It's knowing that there are people like that who walk around on two legs and claim to be men."

"Maybe Greg will turn over a new leaf," I said, but not very hopefully. I really didn't want to have anything else to do with the scum, not even to eat his balls.

To improve our mood, Neeka and I traded testicle recipes for the rest of the drive down to River Street and our visit to Xaiolong Li. A couple of hers didn't sound all that unappetizing. I had found from exposure to Mom's cooking and her taste in restaurants that if you sauté something in garlic butter, I can eat it. It was the type of testicles that we were unsure about. Would a couple of big juicy ones taste better, or should you prepare a dish of several small pea-sized balls instead? I thought that the big juicy ones would probably taste better, but that it would be a shame to sacrifice a nice pair like that for one meal, even if you allowed for the leftovers. It would be much better to keep them in production, so that their output could be enjoyed over a longer period of time and in a wider variety of ways.

"Are you turning into a connoisseur of cum?" Neeka asked.

"Well, yes. I suppose I am. The flavor is certainly unique, and probably not to everyone's taste, but I like it. I know a lot of girls who think it's horribly yucky stuff, but if it's fresh and hasn't been sitting around getting yellow and stale, it can be very tasty."

"Would you suck a guy off just to taste his cum?"

"It depends on the guy, of course. If I'm attracted to him and he turns me on... sure. I'd do it. I think I already did that with Ron Majors, but that was more of a mercy-masturbation and I didn't get a very good taste."

"Would you suck off a total stranger just for his cum?"

"Now you're getting kinky."

"This isn't already kinky?"

"Maybe a little. It depends on how turned on I was at the time. Get me hot enough and I'll do pretty much anything."

"How well I know! But don't make this sexual. We're talking about eating cum, not how you get it out of the guy."

"For me, it's all part of the experience. I don't know if I'd want to microwave a plastic packet of cum, just to taste it. I'd want to get to know the balls it came out of first. I'd want to milk it right out of the cock myself — to suck it hot and fresh, straight from the source. I'd want the guy to see me do it, to know that I appreciated what he had given me."

"Would you rather he came in your mouth, your pussy, or just sprayed it all over your boobs?"

"Yes."

"Yes, which?"

"Yes, any of the above. OK, if we're still talking about from a gourmet point of view, then he'll have to cum in my mouth obviously. Being sprayed with it is nice in certain circumstances. Isn't it a myth that cum is good for your skin?"

"Don't tell any boys this, but I checked into this, and yes, it is actually good for your skin. It works better if you mix it with real skin cream so it penetrates, but there have been a lot of girls whose skin cleared up after they let their boyfriends cum on them."

"Whoa! I see a new business starting up real soon!"

"How many cums to fill an 8 ounce bottle?"

"Oh. So much for my delusions of getting rich before I'm 21. It would have been fun to visit the factory floor, though. All those hunks yanking away, straining to meet their quotas..."

"Or you could hire girls to do it for them. It would be a nice part-time job."

"Carpal tunnel syndrome," I warned. "All that repetitive stress."

"Yeah. Too bad. Have to use machinery. Strap them down and suck them dry. Then move on to the next one."

"I still prefer the old fashioned method."

"The collection bottle between your legs?"

"That's my favorite. There's nothing like having your pussy flooded with hot cum. It just feels so good to have a nice hard cock pumping away in me, filling me up... Hold on a minute. I need something from my bag."

"Do you want me to stop?" Neeka asked.

"No, keep going. I can reach it."

I squirmed between the seats and reached into my bag. When I squirmed back I had my pacifier in my hand. Seconds later, it was back in place, keeping my pussy happy.

"Mmmmm," I moaned. "I'm glad you taught me this. It helps a lot."

We had stopped at a light. "Show me," she said.

I pulled my skirt up and spread my knees as far as I could in the small car. I tilted my hips so she could see how my pussy was contracting repeatedly on the rubber bulb, looking for all the world like it was sucking away at the big pacifier.

"Steve said that's the hottest thing he'd ever seen," I bragged.

"It's surely high on my list," Neeka said, putting the car in gear and driving on. She kept glancing over my way, so I tried to give her a good show. I put my hands over the top of the tall car-seat and held my butt in the air while I tried to tear the pacifier apart using my vaginal muscles. I think I was getting to her because she kept having to jerk the wheel to keep the car from veering out of her lane. I know I was having a lot of fun and giving my pussy a good workout at the same time.

We pulled up in front of the old factory all too quickly. I tugged my skirt back into place and sat back down.

"Are you going to be able to calm down?" she asked. "Or should we wait a while before going in?"

I was panting like a dog in the hot sun. I hadn't cum, but I can't say why not. My pussy was twitching and my clit was stiff and still swelling. I felt wonderfully light-headed, like I had run several laps and was just getting my second wind.

"No, I'm OK. I'm a lot better than OK, actually. Let's go."

We got out, and I skipped to the door with Neeka following behind me. Inside, we were met by one of Master Li's assistants - whom I suspected were all close relatives of his — who showed us into a room that was hung all over with brocade banners with Chinese pictographs on them. It took me a minute to figure out that they were the equivalent of trophy cups from various competitions. There was a large wooden desk at one end of the room, so I assumed that this was Li's office.

We had only been waiting for a few seconds when Master Li himself strode in. He was moving at a much more brisk pace than I remembered from our lesson the previous week. I hoped we weren't interrupting something important.

"Welcome," he said. Then he paused. I wasn't sure if it was for effect, or if he was mentally translating something to say. I spoke up before he got a chance to say it, though.

"We want to apologize for missing class yesterday," I told him in a respectful tone. The man just oozed power and presence. I couldn't help being deferential, even though my head was buzzing and I felt like giggling.

"We had something urgent come up," Neeka explained. "We hope you will let us make up the lesson."

"Do not concern yourselves," he said. By which I think he meant, 'don't worry about it'. "I understand that you have... obligations. You may make up the lesson you missed should you choose to do so."

I spotted the partly open door of a largish entertainment center behind a screen of colorful banners. I pulled them back so Neeka could see the TV and video recording equipment.

"He saw us on TV," I said, understanding why he was being so courteous.

"I recorded it and I have watched it many times," he said. "I cannot say the words to express how impressed I am."

I though this was being a little too inscrutable.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because the words are 'Holy Shit' and my momma taught me not to cuss in mixed company."

"You're not from China."

"San Francisco. My Chinese is pretty good, for not having been used much since High School. My Kung Fu credentials are impeccable, though. In case you were wondering."

"I wasn't. I nearly beat Ed Morris this morning, using what you taught us."

"I know Ed. He's not as good as he thinks he is."

"Spoken like a true competitor."

He laughed at that. "Only in business. We have separate competitions. The different martial arts only get together for exhibitions. But I have seen Ed fight. He favors his right leg. How did you lose to him?"

"You mean, why isn't he a greasy spot on the floor somewhere?"

"Yes."

"He came to teach some defense moves to my Gym class. I only got to spar with him briefly."

"You must be finding that control you were looking for."

"I have a way to keep from demolishing everything I touch. I need to do better, though. I worry about hitting too hard."

"I understand." He paused again and I suddenly understood why he kept doing it.

"OK, you ask me one and I ask you one."

"Deal," he said. "How do you do the thing with your skin? That's not makeup."

"I have almost total control of my body, down to the cellular level. I just move the pigment around to make the design. How do you keep so still? That would drive me nuts!"

"Lots of practice. It's a psychological edge. It intimidates people. Old Chinese trick."

"Right."

"Look, I'd give my right arm to work with you. You are a dream come true for anyone in this business."

"You can't tell anyone about me."

"I understood that last week. We're still finding pieces of that board. No, I don't want to exploit you; I just want to work with you. You are the ultimate student."

"Not 'apprentice'?"

"I'm not going to patronize someone with your abilities. It's going to be quite a challenge for me to find a way to work with you without getting killed. It's a good thing you have a partner."

"She has her uses." I got ready to duck as soon as I thought of saying that. It was a wise move. Neeka slapped at me and I bent over to avoid her hand.

"Don't bend," Li said. "Just flex your knees or move your feet to avoid a blow like that. When you bend over, you are shifting your center and allowing your opponent to influence you without making contact. It is important to remain centered at all times. Otherwise you will blow away in a stiff wind. Come with me. I will show you what I mean."

He led the way into a back room and we spent the next hour working on how to stay centered and in control while in a fight. At the end of it, I felt like I had made considerable progress. I could move and be instantly ready to attack or defend.

"It is a mistake to think that you can learn the fundamentals and then move on to more advanced things," Li told us. "Fundamentals are the most important thing. You must work on them every time you practice."

"When do you want us back?" I asked as we were getting ready to leave.

"As often as you can come. I will be available anytime you need me. You are the most important work I have."

"You are being very generous."

"No. I'm not. I have two grandchildren who attend Southside Elementary School. This is both an opportunity I will not miss and a debt I will not fail to repay."

"How's three o'clock Tuesdays and Thursdays?"

"Then I will see you both next Tuesday."

I still thought Master Li was being awfully accommodating in telling us we could show up anytime we wanted. Lots of people had kids that went to Southside or Ringling. They were the newest and biggest schools in the county. I wondered if all of the families of those kids were going to think they owed me.

"Don't they?" Neeka asked, eavesdropping on my thoughts.

"What? Owe me for doing something that had to be done? I didn't do them a favor. I did it because someone had to and the 'someone' turned out to be me... us. I don't want everyone thinking they owe me for doing this. I don't want their gratitude."

"There are going to be a lot of people who don't see it that way. Given the chance, they are going to want to express that gratitude."

"You're saying I should smile and be gracious about it?"

"Yes. Is that so hard?"

"No. I want to help people. I enjoy it. It makes me feel wonderful when I get to make a real difference in someone's life. Saving a life is the biggest rush I know of. They don't need to thank me, too! That's just so embarrassing."

"Gee, you've got it tough."

"Oh, hush. I know what you're saying. I should be noble about it and let them thank me and fawn all over me. I think I understand why Heroes don't stick around afterward. They don't want to have to listen to the 'thank-you's'. Disappearing afterward is a necessary part of the job."

"So is Public Relations. Dad runs into this all the time. When he gets back from a trip, he tells us these horror stories — no names, but we usually know who he's been working for — about people who get themselves in trouble because they forget that no matter how important or powerful they are, they can't ignore what the public thinks."

"All right. I'll try to be noble and gracious."

"Just say, 'Happy to be of service'."

"And then leave before they try to give me the key to the city or something?"

"Don't think they won't try."

"Oh, no!"

Neeka turned out to be clairvoyant. I had just walked into the house when Mom told me that Sheriff Foster had called.

"More trouble? Do I need to call back?"

"Not today, thank heavens. No, he was very apologetic about it, but he promised he would pass several messages along to you. I think you may want to sit down for this."

I followed her downstairs with a sinking feeling in my stomach. When we were comfortable on the sofa, she held up a small pad and started to read her notes.

"Every TV station, radio station, and newspaper in the lower part of the state wants to interview you. Several civic groups want you to speak to them. The PTA, the Chamber of Commerce, the DAR, the Kiwanis, the VFW, Rotary, Civitan, American Legion, and Scout Troop 43 have all expressed an interest in having you attend one of their meetings."

"Scout Troop 43?"

"Apparently you are a big hit with the 14-and-under male demographic."

"Of course! The comic book readers."

"Yes. Like Mr. Morton, they are probably your biggest fans."

"Oh, no! I have fans?"

"You have no idea. You've been in school most of the day. You haven't seen what's been going on."

She handed me the front section of the newspaper. My picture filled half of the front page. Neeka's wasn't much smaller. The article was a bunch of questions for which, fortunately, the reporter had few answers. That was probably why the pictures were so big. The only thing they had managed to turn up so far was our involvement in thwarting the robbery of the grocery store.

"Wow!"

"Mr. Morton called, too. The dear man was positively bubbling over with excitement. He said to tell you he has a design for a second suit for you with some improvements that he wants to show you whenever you can come into his shop."

"A second suit sounds like a good idea. I didn't know I would be this busy when he made me the first one or I would have asked about that. We'll go see him tomorrow after school. Neeka wants him to have a design put on her jacket, too."

"Hmmm, he will probably have some ideas to improve her costume, too. I hope he isn't neglecting his other customers because of this."

That sounded suspiciously like Mom had asked Mr. Morton to make her a swimsuit to wear this weekend and she wanted to make sure it was ready on time. With his quick turnaround, anything was possible, and surely a skimpy swimsuit would not take all that long to put together. If she had recruited professional help, maybe I needed to reconsider my decision to go easy on Bambi in our 'most daring swimsuit' competition.

"Mr. Morton isn't the only one going out of his way on my behalf." I explained How Master Li had pledged his personal attention anytime I wanted, and why he felt obligated to do that.

"I don't think people should feel that they have to pay me back," I explained. "Neeka thinks I should just put on a happy face and go with the flow."