Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #31

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Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #31

… James Ferrell would rather study schoolwork than dance with adolescent debutantes who ‘have all the sense that God gave the Dodo bird’, as he puts it…

Silly Girls

By the grace of God, and a little luck, August 21 does arrive as scheduled.

The entire day is dedicated to preparing for the Cotillion, which includes the making of Grandma Ferrell’s special punch, whose secret ingredient is rumored to be the state of Georgia’s best XXX hoochinoo. The thirty gallon stainless steel milk can mixture should go a long way to assure a good time will be had by all, should they sample even one innocent glassful.

Juicing the fresh Florida oranges, peaches and grapefruit was the hardest part of the process, but that was done two fermenting months ago. The carbonated ginger ale and phos-ferrates are added just this day, as volume fillers; so sweet and so lethal.

Primping occupies the remaining three hours, most importantly to the females. However, the annual struggle with James Ferrell to get in the proper spirit, disappoints all in the family, though shocking none. He is actually a girl magnet, which may explain his reticence, because he would rather study for the upcoming school year than dance than dance with adolescent debutantes who ‘have all the sense that God gave the Dodo bird’, as he puts it.

This year, his 16th, resistance to his suit of clothes seems curiously mild, not the chest thumping bravado that may disguise changes that show signs of his coming of age.

  Martha Ferrell reminds her son but once. “Miracles never cease to amaze,” she tells Agnes, who is clinching the corset that shrinks the woman’s waist by two full inches.

Abigail Smythwick is going to be there.” Agnes knows the reason for her brother’s sudden cooperation. She is the daughter of Jefferson Smythwick, born in her father’s sixth decade to the silence of her mother’s dying heart (during childbirth).


Alpha Omega M.D.

Episode #31


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Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #23

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Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #23

…Ferrell’s Folly – The Tail Wagging the Dog

Tail & Dog-001

“Go into the bedroom and turn down the bed.” A spell has come over John Ferrell, all of his senses vacating the premises. “I will towel off.”

He grabs a robe, which just so happens to be Martha’s, but it could well have been burlap instead of silk, for all he knows. Turning the corner into the bedroom, he sees Laura waiting nervously, seated with back facing him.

“Please stand up. I want to see you.”

Laura stands, slowly turning like a model at a Paris fashion show.

“You look absolutely lovely, Laura.” Amazingly, he is still picturing Martha in the dress. It will indeed fit and she will be just as beautiful in it.

“I think we should redo the bed,” she says, a last gasp at reversing this trend.

“Let me help you out of that dress.” He lights up at the chance. “There must be twenty of these pearls. How did you ever get them all fastened?” A girls’ secret.

Fantasy-001One by one, slowly savoring each, John makes his way to the very small of her back, lightly kissing her soft shoulders, the skin of a servant never stepping into the toughening sun of the laborers’ field. From the clavicle to the crevasse of her young spine, he gently attends to every square inch.

She is relaxed to that fabled melting point threshold. He has adroitly reached around her front to cup her delighted breasts, drawing her bottom against the extent of his manhood. For new sensations, she reacts with Mother Nature as her guide.

Laura’s ecstasy is so pure, untainted by previous pathetic partners of varying talent and enthusiasm; she reaches orgasm easily, while urging her boss to synchronize their pleasure. Together they erupt, Laura thrashing about with his mouth suctioning blood to the surface of her neck.

“Oooooooooooo……..ooohhh…………aaaaaaaaaahhhh,” she moans. Afterglow will soon set in, when she will take the memory of the experience and file it away, not wanting to let go of it.

John Ferrell’s “feeling” is best described as after-guilt. By stealing love in a moment of weakness, he has sacrificed pride and character for a filthy secret he now has to protect at all costs. He does, however, also protect this princess’ emotional well-being. There is no reason for her to suffer anguish at such a delicate time.

Princess Olla also spares John Ferrell his anguish, first by not clinging to that which she knows is not hers and secondly proceeding from this point in a professional manner. “I’ll be cleanin’ the beddin’, Joh__, I mean Master Ferrell.”

“You can call me John, Laura, but only we are alone,” he urges. “But not this alone, if you catch my drift.”

“I do, gracious master. And I want to thank you for your wonderful gift of love. I pray that I be meetin’ a man just like you. I always been thinkin’ that Miss Martha was the luckiest woman in the South… now I know.” She touches his cheek tenderly. “And the answer is yes.”

“What is the question?” he asks cautiously.

“I believe that dress will fit Miss Martha just fine,” she concludes, “but it’s most likely to BE a skinch tighter about her hips.”

That is what is called a zinger, but John takes it in the proper context; tush and touché.

Life goes on.


Alpha Omega M.D.

Episode #23


page 22

Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #22

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Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #22

…Ferrell’s Folly – While the Cat’s Away

Ferrell's Folly-001

John Ferrell’s (78 RPM) affection for  Strauss comes to a scratchy end, begging attention; getting attention, diverting his attention from the balcony and Olla, who is frozen in place with an arm load of bedlinens. It takes a second or two, but he realizes that he is not alone in the house. With dress draped on his left arm, he ascends the winding staircase to speak to his maid in person.

“Would you draw me a nice hot bath, Olla? Oh—and would you hangs this on our bedroom door?”

“Yessir, Master Ferrell.” She boldly holds the dress up against her black satin uniform fancifully.

Upstairs Maid-001“Isn’t it beautiful? Mrs. Ferrell should love it.”

“It’s a dress fit for a queen!”

Her statement plants a seed in Ferrell, a thought that had not occurred to him. Change Martha’s hair color to black and deepen the hue of her skin and you have Princess Olla; she having a “Heinz 57″ blend of ethnicity. Her skin is quite fair, even considering her Seminole and black roots.

In fact, if she carried her breasts at a higher plane, with the aid of the newly engineered brassieres, the two women would be indistinguishable from a distance, that from a man’s eye.

Getting back to his original thought, before he began musing about what Olla’s body looks unclothed, he orders, “While I have my bath, please put on that dress for me—and let down your beautiful hair.” His musings are bleeding into his reality.

Fantasy-001

One hour into his bath, the ruminations remain unimpeded. His daydream fantasies have expanded parts of him at the thought. He has never seen Princess Olla, born Laura Bell, attired in anything other than her uniform and wonders how the satin finery of the privileged will look on her.

“Laura Bell?! Bring me a fresh towel; I seem to have gotten this one soaking wet.” He dips it into the cooling water to prove his point.

As you might think, Laura Bell arrives at the master bath looking every ounce her princess-ly designation. She even had the initiative to find high heeled, high buttoned white shoes that would match the dress. If facial makeup were applied to her face, any man would be proud to have her on his arm; whatever the occasion, cotillion or inauguration.

As a towel bearer, her garb belies an awkward gate, yet she complies out of servitudinal obligation. Aside from that commitment, she must fight her own female attraction toward her employer, having self-imposed chastity since leaving the Apolachee reservation at age 12; a female neo-slave now 20 and ready to fulfill her womanhood.

Any barriers on both sides are lowered. Troublesome as the situation is, they are spontaneously unaffected by the outside world.

  It is wrong, yet he looks at it as a gesture of caring and she is conceding her virginity to a man she respects and admires.

“Go into the bedroom and turn down the bed.” A spell has come over him, all of his senses vacating the premises. “I will towel off.”


Alpha Omega M.D.

Episode #22


page 21

Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #21

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Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #21

…This prompts the appearance of the upper-floor maid, Princess Olla,  having been with the Ferrells since 1888…

Upstairs Maid-001

John Ferrell waves heartily at the cloud of dust speeding away at the machine driven paceRelated image of twelve miles per hour. Had he wanted to, he and his Saddlebred could outrace them. But his horse would run out of gas sooner than their auto.

Tallahassee Women’s Club

He continues swinging both arms on his way back to the stable, retrieving a package that tagged along with him from town. The bulky box contains a surprise, not to be viewed by the lady of the house; at least until the Summer Cotillion, sponsored by the Tallahassee Junior Women’s Club: Martha Ferrell current president. She is need of a show-stealing gown and this custom made Parisian dress should do the trick, the tailors being familiar with the classic lines of a woman in full bloom.

However, the August date of the ball is fast approaching, leaving no time for professional alterations. It would be nice to know if the authentic pearl buttons will meet their loops at the dress back (when worn by his wife), without a cinching girdle. Martha Ferrell will have nothing to do with those medieval devices, unashamed of her figure, unlike many of the younger members of the women’s organization, who insist on narrowing their waist to teenage proportions. Martha’s hour-glass will just have to let more sand pass to the bottom.

gownJohn agonizes about the subject, as he walks through the mouth of large oaken doors, into the emptiness of his house. After washing his hands in a hall basin, he unboxes the dress, holding it up by the shoulders, allowing it to unfurl. Layer upon layer of rose colored satin and lace could easily stand on its own.

With no one to see, he puts it up against his frame, concluding that if it would fit him, it would Martha as well. He even goes so far as to put the gown through the four-quarter pace of a lively Strauss waltz, complete with live music coming out of the front-room phonograph.

The sounds of the Danube River Valley project out of the room. This prompts the appearance of the upper-floor maid, Princess Olla, who had been repacking the dressers and armoire following the travel/camp carnage of the preceding hours. She has been with the Ferrells since 1888, so she been previously witness to things that would make a sailor blush. But this whimsical display by the man of the house is not unprecedented, though it brings abnormal warmth to hers ears nonetheless.


Alpha Omega M.D.

Episode #21


page 20

Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 191

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Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 191

…R.W. Moore and Fanny’s perplexity and confusion is shared by the other Libbyites, subjected to similar horrible alternate worlds…

“Good morning sleepyhead,” Worth Moore is soliciting a response while he splashes water on his face from the washbasin. With the power grid tampered and terminated, the hotel where he is staying does not have a generator, so the only available alarm clock is the bright light of the new day. Fanny is sleeping in the other room, rolled up in her king-sized sheets, looking as if a cement mixer tossed her around.

She is slow to regain her bearings, scratching her head, “I had the strangest dream. Connie and me were back in Tallahassee, like sometime before Christmas. But when I saw you walking down Tennessee Street, you acted like you never met me before, like I was a total stranger.”

He is taken aback by her unsolicited comment, admitting, “I had a similar dream, only you did recognized me. But you told me that you didn’t want anything to do with men anymore… particularly me, because you found out that I was already married.”

“You aren’t, are you?” Any confusion can be attributed to a night jam-packed with infiltrated thoughts. As untrue as they may seem, the hallucinations are eerily real.

“I guarantee you that I am an honorable Southern Gentleman with the sincerest of purposes, Fanny Renwick. How could you doubt me?”

“After the past 3 months, I don’t know what to think.” Kidnapped, lost in a town without pity, wrongly accused of vehicular manslaughter, hospitalized and now this; her issue is what?

Their perplexity and confusion is shared by the other Libbyites, who as a group are subjected to similar horrible alternate worlds and nefarious nuisances as the other run-of-the-mill crusaders.


Constance Caraway P.I.

Forever Mastadon


page 162

Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 161

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Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 161

…R. Worth Moore is a Floridian from the soles of his wingtips to the tip top of his top hat…

Southern Gentleman

The way that Fanny left things, when she was preparing to come back up to Chicago, was to leave the address of Martin Kamen’s campus quarters, along with the telephone which Worth Moore already had. In the course of doing a simple follow-up on her Lewis State Bank investigation, calling up to Chicago, he learned that Fanny was in the hospital from William, who has been the only one home for a the better part of a week.

Unlike a normal person, who would mail off a get well card or call the hospital with the hope of speaking to the patient in room 314, Attorney Moore turns it into an opportunity for a late winter excursion.

Those wacky folks from Tallahassee have the habit of popping in on friends, unannounced. Hailing from Austin Texas, Ace Bannion at least talked to Constance before flying back into her life. But R. Worth Moore is a Floridian from the soles of his wingtips to the tip top of his top hat and just before lunch at Saint Anthony he drops in to pay Fanny a visit.

“I had a convention to go to,” is his excuse. He is lying, but in a well-meaning way.

He has does his best to empty the gift shop on the way up to the third floor. Fanny and her roommate Edie now have a room adorned with an Ecuadorian orchid and a macramé owl wall hanging imported from Arabia.

“Who is this charming man, Fanny?” asks Edie. “They don’t make true gentlemen like him here in Chicago.”

“Edie Dombroski, this is Attorney R. Worth Moore from my hometown of Tallahassee. I worked a couple cases for him this month, the reason I was away for so long.”

“I must say Mr. Moore you do have fine taste in women,” she and Fanny get along famously, while her recovering husband harbors a married mans’ crush; it is complicated. “You know Fanny, between this man and Connie’s Ace Bannion, it’s a wonder that neither one of you have tied the knot.”


Constance Caraway P.I.

Forever Mastadon


page 138

Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 131

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Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 131

…Constance Caraway, for as long as he has known her, is a red-blooded All-American gal, not a ______ _____________…

“Fanny!!! This is Ace, Ace Bannion, how-the-heck are you?”

If she were a balloon ____ POP. Her brain is thrown into a tizzy. Ace Bannion is in Chicago, why? And he is answering the telephone at Martin’s, that isn’t normal. It means that he has been a welcomed guest. The last that Fanny knew, Ace had stood up Constance on a business deal eight years ago and the offended party swore that she would never speak to that sh**head again, ever.

“Fanny? We must have a bad connection,” he believes incorrectly.

“I’m here,” Fanny has been collecting her thoughts, carefully so as not to overreact. Whatever the reason, Ace’s presence means Constance has allowed that womanizing globetrotter back into their (CCPI) lives.

Poor Ajax is clean out of hellos, but he is perceptive enough to know that Fanny has always viewed him as a threat, a threat to a love story that has never rung true for the antagonist. Constance Caraway, for as long as he has known her, is a red-blooded All-American gal, not a closet homosexual. Sure they seem to be closer than your average two females, but hardly of the lifelong lovebird variety.

“Would you give Connie a message for me?”

“Sure Fanny…. Say-hey didn’t you know I was in Chicago?”

“Tell her that I have accepted some more work from R. Worth Moore and I will keep her informed about the expense and income reports.”

With that clinical ending, to what never was much of a conversation, Fanny hangs up.

“That was fast,” Moore comments having heard one side of the spotty call.

“It looks like you are welcomed to my services for as long as you need them; Constance is busy with other things.”

Not one for wasting time, Attorney Moore gets right down to brass-tacks, “This woman, down in Live Oak Hills, suspects that her husband is moving their joint assets into new accounts. She thinks he is going to either skip the country or divorce her.”

“Set up a meeting between us three as soon as possible. We may have to move fast on this one.” Fanny Renwick may be flustered, but not about to crumble in the face of her personal anguish.


Constance Caraway P.I.

Forever Mastadon


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