Valerie - A Deep and Dark December

Valerie shook her head. Sally was looking away, her head down, her arms stretched out as if bound and submitting beyond the limits of pain.

"My Tommy, my wonderful brother, was a rescue swimmer. Fifteen started in his class and five finished. They washed out the rest, they couldn't hack it, but Tommy could. Do you know what they do, dear ladies, these rescue swimmers? They jump from a helicopter into thirty-degree icewater in the Bering Sea in January, in twenty-knot winds, in fifteen-foot waves, to save drowning men. They must swim fast and strong, get the men in the basket and hoisted quickly, before they or the men freeze or drown, or the chopper runs out of gas and they all die.

"My Tommy, year after year, risked his life in the cold and the dark for men he never knew. There are women with babies who wouldn't have the husbands who made those babies without my Tommy. There are men breathing air who'd be ice-covered corpses without my Tommy. Fifty men he saved, and when he had saved three one night but lost the fourth because he was exhausted, he quit. Said he wouldn't lose another man because he was weak.

"So they sent him to a desk job in New York harbor, and he finished his twenty years, and he wore his dress uniform with all the medals he got and came home. And ours was the only home he knew. But he brought someone with him." And Eve shuddered.

"Tommy came home, and sent Joe away, and sat me down and told me--and told me--and told me--" Eve was near breaking, but went on. "Tommy said he was gay, he loved men, he had found a man and wanted to spend his life with him...." Eve's scream of pain hit Valerie like the bullet Harve shot at her throat. Like the deer Eve shot with the bullet in its heart, Sally choked and collapsed.

Eve struggled, her arms moving as if she had no control. "I had to choose between my own hate and the brother I love better than my life. And I chose Tommy. You chose Sally. Take the baby and love her." And Eve began to cry gently.

Valerie rushed to her. Sally scrambled to her feet but was too slow. Eve and Valerie grabbed each other and held on, their sobs coming in great rending gulps. Sally joined them.

And then there was nothing to cry about any more.

Eve spoke. "If Joe agrees, you can have his stuff whatever you call it, for the baby. You must both adopt the baby. She must be completely yours. But we will still see her, and be her aunt and uncle or whatever. And one more thing--"

Valerie said "Whatever you want, Eve."

"If Joe is giving you a baby--I want him to give me one first!"

Joe smiled and looked at the three women. "Eve, whenever you're ready, darlin'." He kissed her.

"Now I'm gettin' thirsty," said Joe, "and I got to make sure the girls finish their homework and get to sleep. So I'll just see to Naomi and Nicky, and get somethin', and come back."

He got an old barn coat, walked out the door and over to the house.

"I'd love to see them again, Eve," Valerie said. "Even though they're only nieces by marriage, I still love them."

"Tomorrow morning. Too much excitement now, they'll never get to sleep and we couldn't talk in front of them."

"Of course not. They don't need to hear any of this, even when they're old enough to deal with it."

"I saved the toys and gifts you sent them, even when I didn't want them to have anything from you perverts. They prolly outgrown them by now."

"Give the gifts to Toys for Tots. I'll get Naomi and Nicky new ones this year, and deliver them personally."

"They'll be glad, they still ask after you."

"Mistress, permission to speak."

"Sally darling anything yes yes yes. And please, darling, when we're here, Valerie."

"Valerie, can we stay here tonight? I'm scared to drive back, and you are exhausted."

Eve said, "You can use the spare room and our sleeping bags. No beds, but good sleeping pads and we got good hot water. Y'all will have to share the bathroom and we get up early to do our chores."

Joe returned. "Had to put down another insurgency. Nicky decided it was her turn to kill her sister. They may both just make it alive to 18, but it'll be close. Eve darlin', you sure you want another one? I was going to sell these two and buy a new truck--" Eve slapped him hard. He laughed. "Tommy and Jean-Guy went to visit friends in the Capital District and won't be back until Monday. It's started snowing again, so Valerie and Sally, you ain't drivin' anywhere tonight. I'll be out before dawn, plowin'. Good money. You could use their room, or the spare room--"

"Spare room is fine," said Valerie, "It's just one night and we don't want to cause trouble or disturb anyone's privacy. We'll buy all of you breakfast, if we can find a restaurant."

"Great," Joe said. "Ya know, I'm really thirsty, but I thought beer wasn't right. How about cocoa? My momma always said, 'have some cocoa, you're such good children.'"

Sally said, "Yes, we are all such good children."

After the cocoa and whipped cream, Sally and Valerie lay side by side in the zipped-together sleeping bags. Sally had gotten her iPad from the car and IM'd her report to Master Charles.

His reply was typical: "Delightful, my dear Sally. Love and forgiveness triumph over hatred and revenge. How trite, how clichéd, how beautiful. Makes an old cynic like me positively barf with an excess of human kindness. Now that I have tried to trash everything decent and worthwhile (and, thank God, failed), I remove all restraints from my lovely slaves. Enjoy yourselves, my dears."

Their response was also typical. Sally started, "I love you a bushel and a peck, a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck cause I love you--" Valerie's kiss overwhelmed her. The snow fell as gently as Valerie's kisses. Sally let her body scream her orgasms. Valerie's hyperventilating climaxes tore all the pain to shreds. They slept in each other's arms, like good children.

***************************

Charles Arthur Jameson Vanquil smiled, shut down his laptop and put it away. Lady Nadine Vanquil removed her Manolo Blahniks with her toes, and stretched. Charles grabbed her hair and pulled her from the couch.

He really should have kept his left hand closer to his body. Lady Nadine throws a fine right jab, for a patroness of the Opera Society, and this one caught his stomach. "Oof," said Charles, "I knew, my dear, that the crème brulée would have been a better choice for dessert than the Kaiserschmarn, but Rosette, aside from having a really lovely scream when flogged, definitely knows how to cook." At which he feinted with his left and caught Lady Nadine a sharp blow to her upper arm with his right. "Darling," she replied, "if you want to punch me on my tit, you really must be less obvious," and her left right combination caught his chest and jaw.

His open hand landed on her cheek with a solid whack. "Disdain of the obvious is clearly a trait of the imperfectly-educated, small-minded woman, such as attended Wellesley," he said.

"I find domestic violence tedious after it has served its stimulative purposes," she said, slipping under Charles' left hook, ducking and weaving and grabbing her husband's testicles. "Oooh, look what I found." She squeezed. Charles' face went white as he gasped out, "Madam, you are placing the prospects for a mutually satisfactory evening in extraordinary jeopardy."

"Oh, jeopardy," she said, "I loathe those obvious television games shows. So predictable. But I'll take your penis for ten thousand, darling, and you can have my gourmet vagina, as you call my dear thing, for twenty five." Lady Nadine had her own money from her successful day-trading ventures, and Master Charles was her financial, as well as her intellectual, equal. "Deal," he replied.

*****************************

Charles' thrusts increased even more, as Lady Nadine's orgasm subsided. Was this four or five, and why should she care?

"My dear sweet boy, are we there yet? Are we having fun yet?" Her control was, thought Charles, extraordinary. Suddenly he grunted and spasmed, his body convulsed as the orgasm hit him. "Oh yes, we are there, aren't we," said Lady Nadine.

They lay spooned, his hand on her breast, his penis slowly receding, as she gently tightened and released her kegels, milking the last of the semen from him. They breathed gently. She took his hand, raised it to her mouth, and kissed each finger.

"Vanilla sex, how quaint. How utterly kinky and perverted. But such fun," she said softly, "such fun."

"My darling love," he said, "move over, dearest, I'll sleep on that side, you shouldn't have to sleep in our secretions." "It's a big bed, dearest, and I don't mind, but I'm glad that chivalry isn't dead."

As the snow fell, and as Charles and Nadine drifted softly asleep, still locked together, the last sperm from his orgasm, nested in her open cervix, swam to the ovum slowly descending from the tube, met it, and together they moved as one to her waiting uterine wall. And as his parents slept, in the warm darkness, Charles Arthur Jameson ("Chip") Vanquil II began his life.

Merry Christmas.

*

Copyright Notice - The preceding is a "derivative work", as that term is defined in Title 17 United States Code §101. The characters named Valerie Burbon, Sally Thatcher, Stephanie Burbon, Mike Burbon, George Burbon, Diane Burbon, any brother of Mike Burbon (hereinabove named "Joe"), any child or children of any brother of Mike Burbon (hereinabove named "Naomi" and "Nicola" a/k/a "Nicky", respectively), Lady Nadine Vanquil, Charles Vanquil, Herman the butler, Harv, Javier, Imogene, June, and Betsy Flanagan; and the term "Mephisto" as applied to a club or place of public amusement or assembly, and the terms Delgrasi or Delgrasi Publications, as applied to a trade or business publishing and distributing special sexual interest periodicals, and the character the Colonel, a/k/a Colonel Smoke, in connection therewith (all the foregoing named characters and terms are hereinafter collectively the "dweaver999 products"), are the property of dweaver999, and all rights in and to any or all thereof are copyrighted and reserved to dweaver999, pursuant to the provisions of Title 17 of the United States Code, and the Convention for the Protection of Literary and Artistic Works, signed at Berne, Switzerland, on September 9, 1886, and all acts, protocols, and revisions thereto (said Convention, acts, protocols and revisions collectively the "Berne Convention"). The balance of the foregoing, exclusive of the dweaver999 products, is copyrighted, and all rights reserved in like manner, by estragon, pursuant to the Berne Convention and said Title 17 of the United States Code. No part of the foregoing may be reproduced or distributed in any form, whether or not for profit, without the express prior written consent of both dweaver999 and estragon. Use of any of the dweaver999 products by estragon in the foregoing is made under one single license from dweaver999, for this publication and for no other. All brand names and trademarks, trade dress of any description referred to in the foregoing, or materials copyrighted or otherwise legally-protected incidentally referred to in the foregoing, are the property of the respective holders thereof. The publication of the foregoing, and the references hereinabove, do not create any principal-agent, partnership or joint venture between dweaver999 and estragon, other than as licensor-licensee to the extent herein set forth and not otherwise, and none should be implied; neither has any authority to act for the other, except as may be specified by separate written agreement and signed by each of them in each instance. This publication neither creates nor evidences any assignment of any copyright reserved herein or elsewhere by any party. Any reference to any person living or dead, or to any actual acts, transactions or occurrences, is purely coincidental, except as to public figures or institutions. In respect of all such public figures or institutions a qualified Federal and State Constitutional privilege is hereby asserted.

Phew!

Now may I have a vote or two, please, and a few comments.