Unknown Diners

Chapter Fifty

Lorne lounged back in the corner of the couch, and Catherine settled in against him, legs entwined, her head on his chest. They remained silent for a long time, gently stroking each other, then she said, "We haven't even thought to check our blog hits."

"Been a bit distracted the last while."

"Yeah. You curious?"

"A bit. You?"

"Not as much as before." She snuggled closer and pulsed her hand on his left pec. "Such a solid chest. Such a solid man. God, I love you."

He pulled her closer. "Wonderful feeling, isn't it? I thought this would never happen. To hold you like this. To know you like this. To love you like this."

"Yeah, same." She sighed. "Remember lying and cuddling on Cypress Street? So innocent, trying to find the special way to hold. I'd watch Mum and Dad hug and touch and kiss, trying to see the way, then I'd try them with you."

"Delightful innocent days."

"Mmmm."

A quarter-hour later, they were still lightly stroking when the phone rang. He checked the clock. "Seventeen ten." She rolled off, and he rose from the couch to answer it. "Hello."

"Lorne, Denise here. I'm running late. Be closer to eighteen hundred by the time I get there."

"No problem, whenever. We're not going anywhere."

She laughed. "Gotta go. See you in a bit." She clicked off the call, and Lorne stood looking at his phone as he thought.

"Denise?"

"Yeah, running a bit late." He smiled and put the phone down. "Gives us a chance to do the shopping list. I'd forgotten."

He checked the fridge and freezer then sat down at the counter to begin the list as she watched over his shoulder. "Anything else?"

She read down the list again, opened the fridge door. "Nothing. I can't think of anything else missing. Toilet paper?"

"Bought a big bale last week. Soap's good too." He looked around. "Dishwasher, laundry, it appears we've got it all." He clicked Print, and they listened to the printer head running through its cycles.

"Much easier these days than sending a messenger into the streets searching for a scribe." She laughed.

"Yeah, everything's easier and quicker. Like ferreting out the perverts and sorting them from the wandering souls."

"Wandering souls, how do you mean?"

"Think of all the pretty pictures you've seen this afternoon. Nice tasteful images. Art, much of them."

"Yeah, lots of butterflies, flower petals blending with lips, things like that Castro face, the thigh piece and... Creative."

"Then there's the sick stuff."

"Fuck, there was one with a trompe de l'oeil of a knife half done cutting out her vulva. Well done tattoo, but the thought process to motivate her. Fuck, I can't imagine what would..."

"And that's only the tattoos. Think of the actual genital cutting categories. Then there's the Surgical and the Hard categories."

"I'll stick with the tattoos for now, thanks."

"Any luck finding tigers?" 

"I've seen some fanged faces on mounds and quite a few lower down with vulvas as mouths looking ready to chomp off any intruder. Seems to be a common theme. I've been wondering if they actually mean it."

He looked up from printed shopping list. "If they mean what?"

"Scare off those who approach. Like, would you want to stick your penis into a snarling tiger's mouth?"

"Interesting thought. Guarding the access. Cynthia's tattoo? Same theme? Intimidating?"

"I thought it was. Crawling around her hip and down her belly. Big snarling face tattooed over her outer lips and inner thighs. She splayed her legs out and in to show us the opening and closing mouth. Yeah, I'd say it was intimidating."

"And her lip piercings? Small?"

"Huge. That's a better word for them. I couldn't believe what I was seeing." She did a finger gag motion. "They must be four or five centimetres across."

"No, I meant her small or large lips. The inner or outer lips?"

"Inner. You seem very interested." She smiled at him.

"They're different categories. The outer are usually bondage or chastity stuff, the inner are often for stretching. You said she had a chain?"

"A thick one with a big ring in the middle. It appeared it would be very heavy."

"Stretching. Great, we'll find her quicker there. They show off a lot more, showing their progress."

"Progress?"

"How much weight they can bear or how..."

"Fuck! No?"

"Yeah."

"I cut you off. You said or how before I interrupted."

"Or how far they can stretch them."

"Surely this is rare."

"It's common enough that the small percentage who take the time to post online provide tens of thousands of images."

"You want me to start digging through that?"

"No, you stay with the tattoos, I'll do the labial stretching. I know my way around that stuff now. I tracked down a paedophile couple through that two years ago."

"Fuck!" She looked at him and shook her head. "My graceful swan, calm, placid, gliding along. You've been churning through shit all these years, keeping it hidden." She bent her head to his shoulder, still slowly shaking it.

He stood from the stool, picked her up and headed to the couch. "Time for another cuddle break."