[fiction] Fifty Thrones of Shade - Part 2

Dillon

When Dillon entered the Church sanctuary the part with the standing and singing had just concluded in favor of the part with the sitting an talking.  Everyone in the room was doing that gay thing where you are supposed to turn to your neighboor and whisper some retarded phrase that middle aged people love.

There was a noticable hold near the back, in the center.  No one was talking to purple biker girl.  At first Dillon thought she was lucky, and then he realized that people were glaring at her.  Her bike outfit had a tiny little red cartoon devil on it, which Dillon, being a learned boy himself, easily recognized was the BSD Mascot.  The old ladies near purple biker girl, however, did not, and were not amused!

Dillon glanced down to where his family sat.  Always there, in this wedge shaped block of pews that was there to--you know what?  Its not important.  There was like no room down there.  Dillon slid into the pew next to the biker woman.  Every foot he slid raised the tent in his pants higher and higher until his was forced to stop moving simply to avoid making it noticeable.

There is a point in time, that probably varies by person, which is about 72 hours after the last time a man has had sex, that his testosterone levels have returned to normal and his hormones are once again at full blast.  When that man is a boy, and when that boy hasn't had sex or any kind of one-person fascimile for over three weeks because of some kind of cultural religious thing, and when that boy spends every waking moment with his blood frothing with the chemical hormonal mixture of a typical 18 year old...well...you can't expect that boy so hear a single fucking word from the talking guy on the sanctuary dais.

Dillon grabbed a Bible from the back of the bench in front of him and opened it, trying to get a good angle so that he could see the woman's boobs out of the corner of his eye.  To his surprise, the woman slowly reached up and grabbed the zipper, unzipping it slowly, slowly, every so slowly, presumably to avoid making any distracting noise...one notch at a time down until the V was a very vertical V and just the tinest bit of side boob was in view.  Then she lowered her hand.  For a second, as she did so, her finger trailed the zipper line below her cleavage.

Weirdly, Dillon was not hungry.

/*note:  biker girl is Angela */



Scott

Scott sat at the kitchen table, twirling the pan.  He had to decisions to make.

Pancakes?

Pancakes.

Waffles?  Pancakes.  Waffles?  Pancakes?

Waffles.

Strawberries?

Waffles and Strawberries?

Waffles.

Ham steak?  Waffles.  Ham steak and waffles?

Waffles.

Cold pizza?  Cold pizza.  Waffles?  Cold fucking piz--

The doorbell rang.

Scott cracked the screen door open and peered around it.  "Officer," he said.

"Name's Gideon," said the cop.  Gideon could smell the bacon smell.  Weirdly, he wasn't hungry.  "Got a few questions."

"Uhhhhh" Scott groaned.

"Someone broke into the Plankerton's last night.  Stole a chair from their living room."

"No..."


"I'm afraid so."


"Not the..."


"Yes," affirmed Gideon.


"But that really tied the room together."


"So everyone tells me.  You have a truck that could carry chair, right?"


"Oh sure, yeah you could get a chair in there.  Maybe brush it out first.  Wait...noooo..."

"Where were you between...last night and this morning, last night?"

"I was asleep!  You can't think it was me;  I was asleep!  I can show you the drool its on my desk."

Gideon frowned.


Jim

"What was that?" asked Jess.

Jim looked up from the military style compass in his hands.  Then he shrugged.  "I didn't hear anything.  Lets go.  This way."

Due South.  Roughly two miles of it.  That's all they needed, Jim hoped, to get frisky without a pesky park ranger ruining their sexventure.  Sexscapade?  Sexventure.  Jim planned to work on the title later.

"So did you ever hear the one about the grizzle bears?"  said Jess.  She followed Jim down a short, leaf covered hill.

"No."

"It goes something like...'instructions for avoiding bears.'  The best thing to do is wear bells, so the bear hears and avoids you, and bear mace in case they come too close.  It is also important to tell black bears and grizzly bears apart by their droppings.  Black bear droppings often contains berries and other food items.  Grizzly bear droppings often contain little bells and smell like bear mace."

Jim laughed.  Then he stopped and looked at his military grade compass again.

"Oh would you stop that?" Jess slapped the compass out of his hand.  "No one in around."  Then the grinned.

Jim thought he heard a sound in the woods, but was distracted by the sight of Jess sinking to her knees, her skirt billowing out around her folded legs, her soft flesh sinking into the pine needles on the forest floor.

"Did you hear..."  Jim trailed off to the sound of his zipper being undone, and his visual survey of the forest was quickly interrupted as his eyes rolled up into his head and he moaned.

He looked down, watching Jess's head bobing.  Then there was a large, unmistakeable crash.  Jess' head stopped bobing.  Jim looked up.

Jim screamed.


Bella

The waitress came with their final bill.

Ed looked up.  "Actually we're going to split it, um...?"

"Lisa," said waitress Lisa.  She took the bill back to split it.

"That's what people do now," said Ed with a smile.

"I wouldn't know," said Bella, "its been so long since I've been on a date...."  A total lie.

"Me too."  The truth.  "There are like no girls on the internets," explained Ed.  "Speaking of which, do you play anything?  World of Warcraft?  Doda?  Diablo?  Maybe a little Nethack?"

"Um...Softball?" asked Bella.

"What is that, like Madden?" asked Ed.

"Here you go.  Thanks a lot," said Lisa.

When they were out of the cafe Ed brought up the contract again.

"So this contract thing, I think the first thing we'll do, you know if you're interested, is you'll be under my protection."

"And that means, what, exactly?  You save me from muggers?"

"No no no, I don't lower myself to such thuggery.  Being under protection means that if someone wants to talk to you, they have to talk to me first.  And then you know we can talk about collaring, and...."

"What if they talk to me?"  asked Bella.

"They just have to talk to me first.  It's not a big deal," said Ed.

"What if they don't bother talking to you first?" asked Bella.

Ed stopped walking.  He looked as if she had just asked what if mothers leave their babies in the hospital.  "Woah.  That is a big deal.  That is totally breaking the protocol.  They can't just talk to you first.  They have to talk to me first, because you are under my protection."

"But what if they don't?"

Ed shifted his weight back and forth between his feet.  "I didn't want to get into the particulars about this, but they sort of have to ask permission."

"What prevents them from just, you know, sending me an email, without talking to you first?" asked Bella.

"Because you're under my protection!" said Ed.


Dillon

The church service ended.  Dillon elected to remain in his seat because his raging boner precluded a timely exit.  Dillon wondered if there was a psalm for praising God that you happened to be wearing jeans that day.  There should be.

Anyway people started emptying out of the sanctuary.  Dillon looked in front of him and found a "welcome card" that visitors were supposed to fill out so that the church could email them a pdf file that would save their soul.  This particular welcome card was folded back on itself and held in that position by what was probably month-old gum.  The other cards were too far away to reach, not without flashing his boner in church.  Dillon did his best to told the card like the fold didn't matter and pretended filling it out.

Name.

Ok name, uh, that was easy.  Shit.  He was running out of fields on this side.  Dillon traced over his name again.  He sensed someone to his left.  Fuck!  Why couldn't they do out the other side?  He was totally closer to the right side of the pew;  they should have exited left.  Where there old people on the end?  He should have pretended he was praying.  No one bothers you if you're praying.

"Excuse me."  The voice sounded like music, like if G major had had sex with E minor and out popped a little angel with a voice box that could make even God cry.

Dillon looked up.  His jaw dropped.

The purple biker was looking down at him, smiling.  She had auburn hair and very, very, very smooth skin.  Her rack was quite noticeable.  She looked kind of like an angel...so heavenly and pure.  Dillon wanted to fuck her face.

"Uh, sorry," said Dillon.  He twisted his knees around to let her pass.

The woman faced the front of the sanctuary as she stepped past Dillon.  Her ass was pushed out, and passed inches in front of Dillon's face.  He could not stop himself from watching it.

Dillon forced his eyes away and looked to the left, down to the far side of the bench.  There was no one there.  Just people streaming past in the aisle.  When Dillon looked back the biker chick still had her eye on him for just an instant.  Then she turned her head and left, the old people behind her glaring at the cartoon devil on her jacket.


Kim

Kim woke first, Allison in her arms, both of them still in the hot tub and both of them still exhausted from a very erotic hour of lovemaking, which you missed because the scenes flipped to other characters.  Just to recap.  Allison, beatiful with smooth skin in a swimsuit-model kind of way.  Kim, more of your average female-tennis-player-next-door type, with bodacious curves and just a few tiny freckles on her cheeks.  Both incredibly hot, and incredibly lively and who knows what they did together in Kim's backyard when no one was watching?  We don't.  We had characters to establish!

Kim thought she could hear the faint sound of the door bell.  She slipped away, leaving Allison propped up so that she wouldn't drown in her sleep.

There was someone at the door.  Kim opened it.

"Brandon!"

Brandon had a full hipster beard, and was sporting his typical shorts, hunter belt and hoodie.  Today he was packing the guitar on his back too.

"'Sup," he said, and moved to enter.

Kim blocked him.  "You can't be here.  Allison is here."

"No shit!"

"I told you to call first," Kim hissed.

"She still doesn't know about us?"

"I haven't found the right time yet."

Brandon grabbed her ass and pulled her close to him.  "Well there's not time like now."

"Not now."  Kim pulled away,  She pushed him back out of the doorway.

"Seriously?  That's got to be a crazy ass friend you got-"

"She's a great friend."

"-if you can't even-"

"Goodbye, Brandon," said Kim.  Kim watched him leave through the frosted glass.  Then she turned to go back outside.

As she turned, she noticed Allison standing right behind her with her arms crossed.

Allison was furious.


Lisa

Lisa found a card on the floor next to the table where those two nerds--the creepy kid and the pale faced chick--had been talking about sex for an hour.

Weirdly, Lisa was not hungry.

The card was a typical business card, for some kind of furniture store.  There was some writing on the back.  Lisa shrugged and stashed it in her pocket.

Little did she know, Character#34 was watching her from a doorway.


Gideon

On the leaf-covered but well-paved back roads, a police cruiser with a vanity plate that spelled "Red" on the back wound around the curves line and ant crawling swifly over a hand.

Inside, Gideon was getting frustrated.  He had stopped at the residences of 15 dumbasses so far, ever widening his search.  So far each one of them either did not own a vehicle capable of transporting a large chair, or they had an alibi for the previous night, or the bed of their truck was covered in rust and dust that had clearly not been disturbed by anything in the past two months, let alone a chair.

Gideon shifted in his seat and re-gripped the wheel.  The next dumbass on his list of usual suspects was Character#34, who he strongly suspected had a meth lab in is fucking basement.  Just his fucking luck.  A beautiful Sunday and he had to spend it chasing down leads for a stolen chair.

Gideon, though, had seen pictures of the chair in the room.  He did have to admit that it really did tie the room together.

Then Gideon's eye caught something unexpected.  He slowed, pulled over on the should and backed up slowly.  The gate to one of the access roads of the park had been left open.  That was highly suspicious, because Gideon was not only one of the towns only cops, he was also one of the town's only park rangers, and he knew there was no good reason for that gate to be left open.

Gideon frowned, and drove into the access road.  Probably kids getting high.  He kept telling the other rangers they needed a padlock on that gate.  He suspected one of them wanted it open for late night rendesvous, but maybe that was just the crazy thoughts of a bored cop.

There was a jeep wrangler off to the side of the road.  Gideon pulled up behind it and started searching the woods.  The was an obvious foot trail due South.  Gideon followed it as best he could until it mostly petered out.

There was a object glinting at him from the forest floor.  As Gideon picked it up he realized it was most definitely a military grade compass.  That was strange.  What was a military grade compass doing in the forest?  There weren't any army bases around here.

Then Gideon noticed the compass was partly covered in blood.  Perhaps out of some kind of habit, Gideon sniffed the compass, as if that could tell him whether the blood was human or animal.

Somewhere farther down the hill, some kind of animal made a screeching noise.  Then there was a large crash.

Gideon unsnapped the strap over his sidearm.


Character#34

Character 34 picked his nose.