There's Blood on the Moon Tonight

by Bryn Roar

“Exam room two, Miss O’Hara,” he called out to her. “I’ll be along in a minute.”

  Josie looked back at the reception window. From where she was, she couldn’t see Bidwell. She could just hear his voice. Maybe he won’t hear Ralph come in…

  Tubby slowly counted to sixty after hearing the thump against the wall. Then he gave it another ten seconds, just to be sure. He opened the door and stood there, just inside the room, and listened and watched. The waiting room was empty. He thought about peeking over the receptionist’s window but decided not to push his luck.

  He tiptoed over to Bidwell’s private office and held his ear to the door. His heart was beating so hard he couldn’t hear anything above its thumping valves.

  If he’s in there, I’ll tell him I opened the wrong door by mistake; that I was looking for my friend…

  The office was empty, and Tubby hurried over to the desk. The desktop had been cleared, the papers and folders put away. Nothing in the drawers but office supplies. The Rabies Report was gone.

  *******

  Josie checked the clock over the door in exam room two. 9:03. She’d give Tubby till 9:13, and then she was out of there. She jumped up on the examination table, the sanitary white paper crinkling underneath her butt like butcher’s wrap. She realized she was nervously wringing her hands in her lap and forced herself to stop. Where on earth is Bidwell? He should have—

  “Good morning, Josie,” the doctor said, upon entering the room. He looked up from the chart he was reading to see his patient was alone. “Where’s your mother, dear? Didn’t you say she was coming with you?”

  “She couldn’t make it,” Josie said, checking the clock again. 9:04.

  Bidwell grunted and checked his own watch. Shrugging, he set her chart on the counter and pulled up a rolling stool to the table. “The reason I requested you have a chaperone, Josie, was because this examination requires you to disrobe, and my nurse won’t be here today.”

  Bidwell counted himself lucky that nothing had ever come of his earlier impropriety. The kind of luck involved in walking away from a plane crash. His greatest weakness had always been young girls. Especially the buxom ones. With so much at stake it had been monumentally stupid for him to test this girl’s boundaries. To see how far she’d let him go. But overnight, Josie in the flesh had become a goddess! Her body so richly curvaceous that he’d just had to have a taste!

  Unfortunately, Josie wasn’t like Tansy Wilky or some of the other young girls on the island, willing to trade favor for favor. He’d assumed her poverty would make her vulnerable to his advances; that money might loosen her morals, but Josie O’Hara was made of sterner stuff than that. So angry was she, upon coming out of her deep trance, so thoroughly outraged, that she’d practically attacked him!

  Quite frankly, Clint Bidwell had been left shaken.

  For two weeks he’d waited, anticipating a furious visit from Josie’s godfather…or, worse, that Bud Brown character. He wasn’t worried about going to jail, but Ham Huggins and Bud Brown were something else all together! He had no doubts they would’ve thrashed him within an inch of his life, had they ever found out. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, the sexy redhead hadn’t blown the whistle on him! Maybe she hadn’t been as upset as she’d put on. Maybe she’d even enjoyed it…No! Don’t even go there, you idiot! Do not push your luck with this girl!

  “Did you hear me, Josie? It’ll just be you and me today.”

  “I-I know that,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. Quick glance. 9:04

  “Well, the last time you were here you became quite agitated, as I recall. Accusing me of taking liberties with you. That’s why I think it would be best if you came back at a later time. With your mother, perhaps.” He stood up and walked to the door, his hand on the doorknob. “In fact, it won’t be necessary at all. I can see that—”

  9:04. Is the feckin’ clock broken?!

  “No!”

  Dr. Bidwell turned and frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “I-I’m sorry,” she said, glancing up at the clock again. 9:05.

  “I just want to get this over with, Dr. Bidwell. I mean, if that’s all right with you. Rusty told me it would only take ten minutes.”

  “Thereabouts,” Bidwell said, smiling to himself. He took a seat on the stool again. “Disrobe, if you will, dear.”

  Josie saw the smug look on his face and her courage took a direct hit. What made it worse was he didn’t do her the courtesy of looking away. “Yes, sir.”

  “If you’re nervous I can make the process easier for you, you know.”

  “No thank you,” she said, staring at him knowingly.

  Bidwell only shrugged.

  9:06.

  She took her time, keeping her eyes on her feet. She toed off her shoes first, then her sweat socks, setting them neatly on the table. Bidwell craned his head to the side, studying Josie’s toenails. Josie pretended not to notice. Her belt was next, followed by her brand new polo shirt. She folded it and set it on top of her shoes. She skipped the bra, hoping to avoid that humiliation.

  9:07.

  She shed her new Duckheads, so deliberately that Bidwell finally cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to be abrupt, but I’m a busy man. Could we move this along?”

  “Sure. Sorry.” She folded her pants and set them aside. Except for her bra and panties, Josie now stood naked before Bidwell’s penetrating gaze. Her toes curled automatically underneath her feet.

  9:08.

  Bidwell slid his stool over and corralled Josie between his open thighs. He took her arms and checked each one, lifting them up from her body. His cold hands slithered along her sides, checking for something only his lecherous fingertips could detect, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Turn around please,” he directed, moving her with one hand on her hip. She heard him grunt happily. Like a hog at a full trough. A draft suddenly chilled her rear end. Bidwell had pulled her panties away from her butt, and was enjoying the view. “Just making sure you weren’t scratched down there.” He released the elastic so it snapped against her back. When she flinched, he gave her behind a double pat with the palm of his hand, momentarily cupping one cheek. Josie’s response was a tightening of the glutes. She looked up at the clock, begging it to hurry.

  9:09.

  Still standing behind her, Bidwell’s hands slid past her hips, on down to her legs, taking his time exploring each long limb, all the way down to her feet, as if he was a blind man studying some Greek statue. “So soft,” he whispered. So low, Josie could barely hear him. His hands moved back up her legs, pausing to cup both of her calves, squeezing them the way Bud squeezed her breasts, on up to her thighs. Josie gasped as his cold hands abruptly leveraged her legs open. She dutifully spread her feet further apart. Steady, Miss Tits. Steady, she told herself. Just a few more minutes, then you’re outta here…

  She felt his moist breath quicken on her back, and a shiver of revulsion had its way with her. She bit down on her lip, tasting the blood, reminding herself what this was for: There was Bud, of course, as well as his father, their need for some closure and peace of mind. Yet deep down Josie knew there was an even more pressing reason for this duplicity. She was allowing this second molestation to occur so she could be the person responsible for putting this sorry motherfucker behind prison bars. So he would know who it was that had put him there!

  “Turn around, Josie.”

  Josie turned and tried to back up, but the table wouldn’t allow a retreat. There was less than six inches between her and Bidwell now. “Remove your bra.” He tried to sound officious but his lust betrayed him. His voice cracked like Peter Brady reaching for a high note.

  Josie looked up at the clock.

  9:10.

  Shite on a stick! She unclasped the back and let it slide through her shoulders. He looked up at her over his glasses, and then returned his intense focus to her breasts. As if her nipples held the cure for cancer.

  “Sit up on the table for me, J-Josie.”

&n
bsp; Josie complied, realizing immediately his motives. Unchecked, her boobs bounced up and down. Bidwell shuddered. He scootched the stool yet closer, shoving Josie’s thighs rudely aside, until he was in-between her legs, the top of his head beneath her bare breasts. He was breathing heavy now and his eyes had taken on a feverish sheen. He lifted her left breast and examined the underside with an analytical look upon his face—though the way he was groping it left little doubt as to what he was about. He did the same with her right tit, only this time allowing his thumb and forefinger to rub her nipple. It stiffened automatically. Josie’s jaw clenched.

  Emboldened, his eyes found hers. “That feel good?”

  Josie checked the clock.

  9:12. One more minute!

  “No,” she said, swatting his hand aside. “I don’t—”

  A hollow thump out in the front office made Bidwell jump. “What the hell?” He stood up to investigate.

  Feeling something pressing against his crotch, he looked down in shock.

  Josie’s foot was rubbing against his zipper, her candy red toenails teasing the front of his burgeoning trousers. Her big toe delicately traced the outline of his growing cock.

  “What’s up, doc?” she purred, coquettishly. Her pouty lips were pursed like those of a sweet innocent little girl. “Going somewhere?”

  Quick glance.

  9:13.

  Get out, Ralphie! Get Out right NOW!

  “No, ma’am,” he grinned. “I’m not going anywhere.” Bidwell took her foot in his hand and pulled it up to his face, rubbing it on his cheeks. He sucked her toes into his mouth and worked the row of digits like a juicy slice of watermelon. Josie tried to look as if she enjoyed it, giggling, even as the sensation of his slimy tongue made her want to lash out at his face with her other foot. Bidwell’s breathing grew more ragged. He released Josie’s foot and stood up to unzip his fly—his hands shaking like an old man's palsied fingers.

  He pulled Josie off the table and into his arms, roughly forcing her hand on the front of his tented boxers. “Pull it out,” he ordered her. The phone began to ring in the reception area.

  No longer in a hurry now, Josie allowed him to guide her hand onto his erect penis. A malefic gleam lit up her eyes as her hand bypassed his dick, dropping on down to his fat and hairy testicles. She cupped his balls, pretending arousal, even as her stomach roiled from the revolting texture of his wrinkled testes.

  “Right where I want you,” she cooed. Even if the bastard wanted to answer the phone now, Josie wasn’t going to let him. It was payback time.

  Bidwell returned her smile—only to have it wiped from his face by the vise-like grip crushing his balls.

  Josie O’Hara kept right on smiling. Right on squeezing. The muscles in her jaw flexed, as she squeezed his nuts together with all her feckin’ might.

  The resulting rupture sounded like bubble wrap popping. Bidwell felt an explosion tearing through his nether regions. A molten misery so great he assumed Josie must’ve ripped his scrotum straight from his crotch. Any second and the crazy bitch would lift the bloody sack high in the air for him to see. He was spared that possibility as a nauseating white light filled his eyes, blinding him with its brilliance. With his nut sack considerably deflated, Josie at last released Bidwell to his own misery.

  He fell to the floor in a fetal ball, writhing there, shrieking like a frightened little girl. His screams endured until his throat suddenly filled with vomit, jetting forth from the deepest recesses of his gut.

  Meanwhile his patient unhurriedly gathered up her clothes. Josie paused at the small sink to scrub the feel of his bloated balls from her hand. Then, for good measure, she washed them again. The water steaming. She was nearly out the door when she stopped and turned around.

  As if she’d forgotten something.

  Clad only in her panties, Josie bent down until she was staring into Bidwell’s anguished eyes. He didn’t seem to care anymore about the perfect tits hanging right over his face. His nausea for the moment gone, he lay cringing on the floor, in a pool of his own puke, gasping for air. “That was for the last time, you miserable prick. This,” she said, rearing back her fist so he could see it coming. “This is for what you did to me today!”

  Josie’s fist dropped like the Hammer of Fucking Thor. Squarely on Bidwell’s once patrician nose. Cartilage crunched and nostrils flattened, as the blood gushed forth.

  Payback…it really is a bitch.

  *******

  Tubby’s eyes goggled when Josie strolled out of Bidwell’s office with her clothes in hand, sporting only a pair of hip hugger panties. She waved him over from the payphone, where he was still waiting for the other line to pick up. He dropped the receiver and rushed over to Josie, who had just slipped on her bra and was now sitting on the floor, putting on her socks. He tried looking away but it was next to impossible. His eyes kept returning to her bare flesh. Finally, he turned his back to her. “What happened in there?” he asked her breathlessly. “Did he hurt you, Joe?’

  “Nothing happened, Ralph.”

  “Then why didn’t he answer the phone?”

  “Because he was too busy holding on to his nuts.”

  “Gee,” Tubby said, blinking. “You kicked him in his guy parts?”

  “Even better. I cracked ‘em together like a couple of pecans. You took the photos? We heard a loud thump.”

  Tubby gawped in wonder. Jeepers!

  “Um, yeah, that was me. I knocked over this world globe he had sitting on top of his file cabinets.”

  “File cabinets? What on earth were you doing looking in there?” Josie held on to Tubby as she put on her sneakers. Tubby liked the feel of her hand on his shoulder. “Okay, I’m dressed. We better skeedaddle before he decides to come after me.”

  Tubby explained what happened as they jogged down the once again rainy street. “When I went into the office, the report I saw yesterday was gone.”

  Josie groaned.

  “So I had to bust into his file cabinet.”

  “Please tell me you found some incriminating evidence to photograph!”

  Tubby handed over her father’s Nikon camera. “And then some. There were other folders in there, like the one I saw yesterday, and I used up every bit of that ten minutes you gave me photographing them. Used up every bit of that film on the roll, too. I didn’t have time to read anything. The pictures will have to tell the story. I almost made a clean getaway, but then I knocked over the globe when I was tidying up. Jeepers, Josie. I sure hope these pictures are worth it!”

  Josie, who could still feel that bastard’s nuts popping in her hand, started to laugh. “Oh, yeah. It was worth it all right!”

  *******

  By two o’clock, the hurricane’s path seemed almost certain to run straight through the island of Moon. It was a massive storm, and even though the eye-wall was still more than 24 hours away, the inhabitants of Moon were already feeling Jack’s awesome power. Ham, seeing an earlier departure was going to be necessary, managed to make one call to Frank Tolson before the lines went down. Ten minutes after that, the electricity went off as well, the power being a fragile commodity this far out to sea.

  The sustained winds were already up to twenty-five miles-an-hour and the seas were choppy. It was time to go. In fact, he had waited too long.

  He turned to Rusty. “Son, I need you to hurry next door and get Josie and Joel ready to go.”

  “Joel’s gone over to Beaufort with Shayna. Josie’s over at the Browns’ helping them sandbag the doors.”

  Ham frowned. He knew how bad it was going to be in Beaufort the next few days, and he was worried about Joel being out on the mainland so close to shore. Then again, even if he could call over there, which he couldn’t now, Joel wasn’t his child. He had no right to tell Shayna what to do with him. He cursed under his breath. Jack was turning out to be one mean son of a bitch. Packing winds up to 150 miles per hour, it was a strong category four, bordering on a catastrophic five. And as far as Ham
knew, Moon Island had never received a direct hit from anything greater than a cat three. The storm surge alone from a four would completely wash over the island! Lord only knew what a five would leave behind.