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The Auditors (standard:science fiction, 2586 words)
Author: Andrew RAdded: Jun 12 2002Views/Reads: 2097/1259Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Sexual Obsession. Kirsch can't get enough of Sally, but he has to be objective, he has a job to do. What he keeps wondering though is why can't he get the tele viewer to tune to anything other than sex channel 603.

The Auditors 

By Andrew Rough 

"Well, here it is." Kirsch looked up from the sofa bed, impassively. 
Sally was standing, looking at him expectantly; she was wearing tight 
hot pants and a sparkly bra-top.  Sally was 30, desperately trying to 
look 20, one minute she was vampish the next minute coy baby doll.  
Kirsch stared at her, enjoying her curves, he grinned wolfishly, "Here 
'what' is Sally?' Sally stamped her foot, frustrated at his teasing, 
"it, Kirsch, it!" Kirsch laughed happily, "You look great baby, I love 
your new outfit." Sally moved towards Kirsch, he pulled her on top of 
him and they embraced, he rolled her over so that he was pinning her 
down on the bed and kissed her passionately.  They continued, their 
movement automatic and practised; an intimate familiarity meant Kirsch 
new exactly where to touch Sally. 


Six months earlier.  Kirsch was planet side and running.  They had
'Xena's,' an illegal flesh bar.  He was just about to go into a booth 
with a rather busty blond type when the front door had smashed in 
announcing the presence of a group of rather serious looking men in 
suits, accompanied by some other rather serious, and significantly more 
muscle bound men, sporting guns. 

Kirsch was running for his life, if he was caught that was it.  He
already had two minor sex infringements on his record, one more and it 
was statutory execution.  It's not that the government disliked sex, in 
fact the biggest selling T.V. network was sex channel 603, it's just 
they liked everything regulated and controlled, or to put it another 
way, heavily taxed.  Kirsch couldn't stand the government sanctioned 
flesh bars; in the illegal bars the girls were just that little bit 
more desperate, and Kirsch liked desperate, desperate was willing to do 


Kirsch looked at the clock, 16:43.  Sally was lying beside him
peacefully.  She still had a rosy flush on her cheeks and breasts; she 
always got that when she had an orgasm.  He smiled down at her and held 
her with an intense stare.  He was trying his smouldering look that was 
so successful in seductions.  He gently cupped one of Sally's breasts 
and leaned in to kiss her.  A look of pleasure came over Sally's face, 
she returned his embrace then stopped him suddenly, "The auditors, it's 
our review today." Kirsch rolled off Sally and sat up staring at her 
coldly. "Why do you always do that Sally, you have to spoil things 
don't you." She sighed and turned away from him, staring blankly at the 
magenta walls stained by grease and the grime of years of neglect.  She 
hated their bed-sit prison, no window, bare walls, a grimy table for a 
kitchen, door permanently locked. "You know we can't Kirsch, what would 
they think." 

Kirsch got up and went over to the televiewer, the only other piece of
furniture in the room. He flicked the on button; the picture slowly 
came into view through the static interrupting the low thrum of 
machinery, the hypnotic sound that dominated their apartment block.  He 
tried changing the channels, no luck, permanently fused on sex channel 
603.  The auditors had promised to get that fixed since the last review 
three months before, but nothing ever got done here.  Kirsch had seen 
this film before, or at least something very similar, mind you, they 
all started to look the same after a while, only a certain amount of 
orifices and a certain amount of things to insert.  The faces changed, 
the action didn't. Kirsch looked down at Sally again, she was staring 
at the wall still, he wanted her so much, but that was the problem. 


Kirsch could feel his heart pounding in his ears, it felt so loud he was
convinced the man with the granite face would hear it and catch him.  
Kirsch was crouching behind a large portabin at the back of a street of 
shops.  Granite face stood just a few yards away facing the road and 
looking from side to side.  He could tell exactly what role granite 
face was employed to do, those rippling muscles that made his suit, 
however well tailored, look so bad fitting, and that barely concealed 

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