Unknown Diners

Chapter Twelve

Catherine stared at her finger through the hole, then closed her eyes as she fought her gag reflex. Lorne sat up and stroked her back. "It's alright, that's the easy one. I'd forgotten about it. Doesn't constantly remind me like the others." He felt her tense again then begin sobbing. He pulled her finger out of the hole and eased her down onto the bed, pulled the duvet over them, turned off the lights and they merged into another cuddle.

The sunlight through the portlight woke him, still wrapped in a wonderful tangle. He didn't want to turn his head to look at the clock. It might wake her. She's so peaceful, so comfortable. Being alone is so... So alone, I guess. It must have been hard for her after Nathan — that was so sudden. I understand alone... God, do I understand it. But going from something as wonderful as this to alone, so quickly... He felt her stir.

She rubbed his chest, kissed his neck and laughed as she moved her hand to wipe his shoulder and her cheek. "I've been drooling on you." She giggled. "Guess it's not unusual for me to drool over you. God knows, I've had the practice."

He adjusted the cuddle to reach her lips and lick them teasingly. "My mouth's fuzzy and funky. Do other people kiss like this in the morning?"

"Lovers do. I don't know about ordinary folk." She caught his tongue with hers, prodded through his lips and continued on in, exploring, he reciprocating.

"Good morning, Gorgeous," he said after they finally paused. "Did you sleep well?"

"I guess I must have, I remember nothing except your trying to calm me. It seems you did that." She nibbled his lower lip and ran her hand down his back to his butt cheek, giving it a shake. "Let's move our butts, we've lots to do."

"What have you in mind?"

"First, we need to pee — at least I know I need to, you guys seem to have bigger tanks. Then a shower and breakfast. After that, I'd like to continue sorting things out. You now seem to be handling it easier than I am. You'll need to help me."

"I'll go use one of the after heads, you use this one. I'll meet you in the shower."

A while later, as they luxuriated in each other's bodies under the spray from the triple shower nozzles, she said, "You seem to have unlimited hot water."

"Mostly from solar and wind, but there's an automatic back-up from an on-demand propane heater. I keep the watermaker on an automatic five-day purge cycle, so it's always ready to replenish on my longer trips."

She soaped his chest and abs again. "You've designed your life to be solo and independent, haven't you?"

"Life taught me that — forcefully." He made sure her breasts and vulva were well washed — once more just to be sure.

She soaped his penis again. "Yours is the only foreskin I've seen. Should I wash under it? I've read that needs to be done."

He looked at her with a twisted face. "I did it when I was in the head — after I peed. I always have to." He shrugged his shoulders, picked it up and examined it. "This may spoil your breakfast, but..." Then gazing into her eyes, he continued, "But we're here already. Tell me to stop whenever you want."

"Do you want to rinse and dry? Do this on the bed. Not a good idea to faint in the shower." She gave him a crooked smile.

"Are you okay with this? We could have breakfast first."

"No, let's just get on with it. We're already rolling, let's dry each other and get on with it."

They sat on the bed facing each other quietly for a while as Lorne gathered his thoughts. Where do I start? Background information, the mutilation culture, perversion, child porn... "You're aware of child porn, I'm sure?"

She nodded.

"And Catholic abuse — the perverted nuns and priests?"

She nodded again.

"How about the body-modification culture?"

Another nod.

"Beyond the visible piercing?"

"Like clit rings, labial rings. One of my girlfriends has a ring through her hood and one in each of her lips joined by a chain."

"Have you heard of subincision?"

"The Australian Aborigine ritual?"

"Yes. How about penile splitting?"

"Nathan bumped into a gross site one night and said I had to see it. A collection of sick people who cut their stuff and boast about it."

"That's a good description of Connolly."

"He had cut himself?"

"Then he started on me," he said as he rolled back the skin. 

She slowly moved a hand to cradle it and sat there staring, remaining silent. Okay... Pretend I'm in an anatomy lab examining a specimen. I can get through this. I haven't puked at one of these since first week Grade Eleven. She moved her other hand and rolled the glans with a finger, separating the two halves a bit, then a bit more.

"You can go a lot wider. It doesn't hurt anymore."

She did and bent closer to examine. "This isn't as bad as I was expecting. Leading me to it gradually helped. The hole through your left half? What's this?"

"That was fresh, not fully healed when I escaped. It was to be the new leash anchor for when he started splitting my shaft."

She heaved and blew out her cheeks, but held the gag. "He was going to split your shaft? Just like that? Just slice it down the —"

"No, not all at once. A bit at a time. Let it heal, then cut another bit, like he did with my head." He paused and watched her. She seems okay with this so far.

"He took photos of the entire process. The entire seventeen months — thousands of photos. From every angle. His favourite poses were of me licking and sucking the split halves and —"

"You could lick yourself? I guess it's long enough for that." She lifted her head and smiled at him. "Can you still?"

"I've lost the flexibility of my youth, but I can still get most of the heads in." He smiled crookedly and blushed.

"So he was going to split the entire thing?"

"I'm not sure. He kept talking about what he was going to do with the foreskin, wanting to keep it intact. I think he planned on seeing how far he could go and still be able to roll it back over and hide the split. He had made his first shaft cut and Crazy-Glued the new surfaces a few hours before I escaped."

She spread the halves wide and ran a finger across the healed surfaces. "Doctors can repair this. I'm sure quite easily."

"Yeah, I know. But I had already endured too much pain by that point, mostly emotional. I retreated deep inside, I kept this hidden. The hospital treated my broken shoulder and wrist, concussion and amnesia, while I cared for my other wounds."

"So, you escaped?" She moved a hand down to the hole through his scrotal web, but decided not to put her finger through it this time. "How did you get free of the padlock?"

"It wasn't there anymore. He had made another hole when he started splitting my head — through here." He flipped his penis up across his thigh, exposing the bottom side, pulled the foreskin back farther and pointed to the jagged scars. "He pierced the shaft through the spongiosum under the urethra, just below the head."

Catherine was still in her imaginary anatomy lab, so she bent close to examine the scars, trying to make sense of them, tracing them with her finger. "So, how did you free yourself from the padlock?"

He pointed to the scar and said, "I chewed through here."

She gagged, held her mouth, but couldn't stop it and spewed through her fingers.

Lorne wrapped his arms around her and patted her back. "It's alright, I think we're through the tough part now. Do what you need to. Don't worry about the mess. There's a washer and dryer aboard; there's plenty of hot water in the shower."