Be a bad girl, Stacy. Be a slut for me”. Hearing the words bad and slut spurred her into action. She moaned my name and leaned back, pushing me dee... into her. I sat up; my mouth and hand moving back to her nipples, my other hand moving around to her ass, my finger sliding between her firm butt cheeks. She wrapped her arms around me. From our new position we could see the two women through my car windows, still talking. We both watched them, Stacy with her face turned toward them, me out of the. ”“It’s true,” she said, waving her half-empty glass to punctuate her statement. “Don’t judge the colony based on beauty shots of the domes, I have larger quarters on the carrier than I did back home. I’ll always resent that my ancestors never claimed a planet during the great expansion, they thought their little slice of Mars was so desirable, but now look at us. Did you know that the damned Amish have an entire planet to themselves, and we don’t?”“So I’ve heard.”Shrimp watched them drink as. For a few seconds, it seemed to be working; the little boy's sobs slowly quieted, and he began gazing hungrily at the old farmer's dirty fingers. The child watched them go back and forth. Then slowly the baby opened his jaw wide and slammed it shut on the largest of the man's fingers. Severing his thumb.The man screamed, slamming on the brakes. Cradling his hand and staring at what remained of his thumb in shock. Within seconds the infant boy began wailing again, spitting out the remnants of. With her black crocks, blue jeans, and cream-colored button vest, it was largely the glasses and lab coat that made it clear that she was the head psychological researcher and psychiatric therapist at Monarch Hospital of Health and Human Studies, a learning hospital that often took on extreme cases to make medical breakthroughs. Being freshly in her thirties, Dr. Thibodeau looked good for her age. A black and a gold bracelet on her left wrist, a black choker, and two gold dangly earrings.