Property of Omega Pi

Prologue

Excerpted from the Omega Pi orientation presentation given to qualifying pledges seeking inclusion:

‘Omega Pi is dedicated to the pursuit of excellence and actively seeks out those young women whose contributions have the potential to change the world in which we live. It is a sisterhood whose bonds transcend those of ordinary sororities. Understand that those of you who qualify for membership have been carefully chosen for consideration and represent the absolute best of the best.

It is our mission to promote the dignity and self-worth of all of our sisters with the aim of helping these extraordinary young women realize their potential by enriching their lives and preparing them for life’s journey ahead.

The Omega Pi oath is a sacred trust, a solemn promise that shall never be broken, shall never be compromised and shall endure long after each one of us as individuals have passed through the hallowed halls of academia. It is a lifelong pledge from one sister to another to uphold the values, virtues, and integrity of Omega Pi’s ideals and unwavering pursuits.

As a sisterhood, Omega Pi is greater than any single one of us. In the end we believe it is the little things that make all the difference.

First Time Away From Home

Standing beside the 2007 charcoal grey Grand Caravan in the parking lot adjacent to the student residential dorms, eighteen year old Oliver Haynes checked his wristwatch and rolled his eyes as his mother fussed with the collar of his shirt.

“My little man all grown up and headed to university,” she said, voice quavering, slightly rounded but pretty face expressive and reflecting the heavy emotion in her heart as she looked at her only child.

Looking around, he was glad to see he wasn’t the only kid bring forced to endure the public severing of the umbilicus as his mother fretted over him. Oliver made eye contact with his stepdad Stan, nonverbally imploring him to intervene.

“Samantha, please, give the boy a chance to breathe,” chuckled Stan, mindful not to let his eyes wander at the wealth of young attractive women seemingly everywhere.

Disengaging from the boy, Samantha leaned forward, lips puckered. Oliver closed his eyes and turned his head as she gave him a big noisy kiss on his cheek.

Pulling back, she held her son at arm’s length, “I can’t believe it,” she said, voice barely restraining emotion.

He nodded and grinned. His stepdad motioned to his cheek and Oliver reached up, rubbing the spot where his mother had kissed him, bringing down fingertips coated with a trace of the waxy subtle pink lipstick deposited there by the buss.

“Doesn’t he look all grown up Stan?” she said, holding her son’s shoulders and wiping away the rest of her smudge.

“Maybe he might if he didn’t have his mother draped all over him,” Stan commented jokingly, moving around the vehicle to the back of the van and opening the rear door,

For Oliver, living his entire life in a small town of less than a thousand people, coming to a large university with an undergraduate enrollment just shy of thirty thousand students was daunting, frightening, and exhilarating all at the same time. The school grounds were positively immense, sprawling almost five hundred pristine and immaculately maintained stately acres. It was bigger than his whole town and brand new world for him.

It was the Tuesday of the penultimate week before the start of new classes and new students were permitted to move into the campus dorms.

Samantha continued to fuss as Oliver while he and Stan got all of his bags and stuff up to his shared accommodation dorm room on the third floor of the building. Through the bustle of students, they found his room easily enough, two wide strips of masking tape on the wall next to the door, one with Oliver Haynes written in black magic marker over top of another name that read Cameron Crawford.

The room was fairly straight forward, broken into mirrored halves with the door situated in the middle directly across from the one window in the room. On each side was a bed, a desk, and a built in closet with shelves. There was also a metal footlocker at the foot of both beds.

The person assigned as his roommate had already been there and claimed the bed to the right of the door, so Oliver motioned to Stan to put his stuff on the left.

The departure of his parents was protracted bordering on painful as he bid farewell to his weepy eyed mother as she was being escorted from the room by his stepfather. Oliver was extraordinarily grateful for Stan, he couldn’t imagine having to deal with his mother all on his own.

Chuckling to himself, he began putting his belongings away, meticulous to the point of being borderline OCD.

“Hey, you must be Oliver,” said a baritone voice from the door standing open behind him.

Turning, Oliver was greet by a good looking, tall, lanky youth with relatively short spiky brown hair and an infectious grin wearing what appeared to be a white and blue football jersey sporting the number 31.

“Cameron, Cam,” he said with a toothy grin, extending his hand.

“Oliver,” he replied, taking the proffered hand and giving it a firm shake.

“Not Ollie?” Cam asked, breaking their grip.

Oliver chucked, “No, Oliver please,” he answered politely. He despised being called Ollie, always had, even as a child.

“Oliver it is,” Cam said with a nod.

“You like to party? You know, enjoy a little herbal remedy?” Cam asked, bringing his thumb and forefinger together and pretending to take a hoot.

Oliver smiled and shook his head. “Once or twice but not recently,” he answered honestly, having sampled it a few times but never enough to say he had really been baked.

Cam nodded, “Good to know. If you need anything, what’s mine is yours,” he offered, drifting over to his side of the room and moving his hand over top of the still unpacked luggage there.

“Thanks,” Oliver replied.

“Where you from?” Cam asked, opening up one of his travel cases.

“Upstate, a couple of hours north of here,” he replied. “You?”

“Bellingham, Washington,” he replied.

“You’re pretty far from home,” Oliver stated.

“My mom was originally from here and I’ve got a doddering grandmother going slowly senile somewhere in the area. Plus I also have an older sister who goes to this particular establishment of higher learning,” he answered, making an exasperated noise of disgust with his mouth.

“Oh?” Oliver asked.

“Sersei,” he said mockingly, talking in a higher pitched tone and shaking his head as if flicking long hair, “she’s a junior,” he added.

Oliver grinned, “I take it from your tone the two of you don’t get along so well together?” he inquired.

Rolling his blue eyes, Cam shook his head, “She’s way too high maintenance as far as I’m concerned. Over inflated sense of ego. It’s always all about her and her aspirations and goals and how I have to stop trying to nail her hot friends, yadda, yadda, yadda,” he explained adding a dismissive noise at the end.

“Junior? So she’s older?”

“Almost two years, but if you ask me she acts like another parent. It drives me absolutely crazy,” Cam said, shuffling his bags off the bed and onto the floor before flopping on the mattress. “You? Any annoying brothers or sisters north of here?”

“Only child,” he answered.

“Mom and dad together?”

“Mom and stepdad. They were here helping me get my stuff up to the room,” Oliver replied, fixing his sheets and making his bed. “How about you?”

“Just me, my mom, and Sersei. My dad apparently booked pretty early in my life and I don’t have any memories of him, just a few old photos of some dude and shit,” he answered with a mini shrug of his shoulders.

“Sorry, that’s rough,” Oliver empathized.

“What was rough was growing up with two women in the same house. Hair everywhere, bras, ugh, almost enough to drive me gay,” he paused, rolling his head to the side to look at Oliver, “You’re not gay or anything, I mean, it’s okay if you are and stuff?” he hastily added.

Oliver chuckled, “I’m not gay,” he supplied.

“Neat dresser, snappy haircut, moderately attractive dude, I’m cool with it,” he assured, arching an eyebrow.

“Not gay,” he repeated, raising his own brows and widening his eyes. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone, “Here, I’ll prove it. Got any naked pictures of your sister? Want some?” he joked.

Cam laughed, then grew serious, “Stay away from my sister. Not that I’m concerned for her sake, yours. You seem like the kind of guy she could twist around her baby finger. Trust me, you’re just better off keeping a wide berth of that she devil,” he cautioned.

“Oh?”

“She’s an Omega Pi,” Cam said, injecting false solemnity into his tone as if the words carried some degree of actual weight.

Not quite certain, “I don’t know that means,” Oliver said, frowning.

“Omega Pi?” chuckled Cam lively. “You don’t know about Omega Pi?” he asked, tone rife with disbelief.

The Sister

Sitting up, Cam faced Oliver, hands up, “Let me give you the skinny on Omega Pi my naïve friend. It’s a super selective sorority of young women, maybe twenty carefully hand selected sisters tops. I don’t know if they’re a national charter or what, it’s all very hush and secret handshakes or ass wiggles or something. I don’t know. Anyway, they have their own house and everything. And talk about stuck up? You’ll know an Omega Pi just by the way she looks at you. If she makes a disgusted crinkled up face and regards you like you’re gum stuck on the underside of her running shoe, chances are she’s an Omega Pi,” he explained.

Oliver chuckled, “Must be one of the entry requirements, resting bitch face,” he said.

“Exactly!” Cam chortled. “For the most part, they’re all eminently bangable and got this sly little look like they’re in on some secret that no one else is privy to.”

“Bangable? Your sister included?” Oliver teased.

Cam made a rude noise, “Don’t even get me started. My sister is way too cute for her own good, long blonde hair with big tits and she exemplifies the term resting bitch face. She should be the Omega Pi poster child,” he stated.

Oliver chuckled, “You paint an amazing picture, I can’t hardly wait to meet her,” he said. It would be good to meet some new girls. He and Sara had been ‘going out’ together ninth through twelfth grade. When they chose to attend different schools after graduation, they mutually decided to they should remain friends but be open to new experiences, and by mutually, she said she wanted to see other people.

“Someone is talking about me because my ears are burning,” said a sultry female voice from the open door as she breezed into the room.

“Speak her name, and the devil doth appear,” Cam said with embellished drama and employing an English accent.

Oliver looked up to see the speaker. Cam had said she was too cute. What an understatement, she was drop dead gorgeous. Honey colored hair held back off her face, big luminous blue eyes. The only accurate portion of Cam’s description was her smile, like a Mona Lisa smile. She was dressed in neat black knee length running shorts, wearing white and pink t-shirt, the Greek symbol for Omega with a smaller Pi inside it on her well-endowed chest.

“Who’s your cute little roommate?” she asked, turning those amazing cerulean eyes on him, left eyebrow rising slightly.

“Oliver this is my sister Sersei,” Cam said, scowling darkly.

Licking the left corner of her lips, “Oliver, I like the way it feels in my mouth, kind of rolls over my tongue,” she said smile broadening as she inclined her head slightly.

Oliver felt his breath catch in his throat and instead of being able to articulate any words, he choked slightly, then coughed, bringing his arm up quickly to cover his mouth near his elbow.

“Cat got your tongue?” she inquired, tilting her head slightly to the side.

Bout of coughing at an end, he shook his head, “No, it’s good to meet you,” he said, rising to his feet and extending a hand. Her hand was soft and this close to her he detected a hint of perfume, just enough to tickle his senses.

“Ooh, rough hands, you a working man?” she commented, grinning still, and turning his hand over to look at the calluses there, touching the patches of hardened skin with the tips of her fingers from her other hand.

“I spent most of the summer working as a hand on Denman’s Ranch just a short piece down from our place,” he blurted, feeling the need to explain himself.

Cam snapped his fingers, “For crying out loud there temptress, release the poor kid from your evil thrall. Why are you here?” he asked, expression sour.

Her eyes lingered on Oliver’s face a moment longer before she released his hand and turned to face her brother, “Mom is over at Oma’s house and wants to know when you’re going to go over there?” she said.

“Soon,” he replied, shaking his head, “like maybe an hour from now. We done here?”

“I suppose,” she replied. “Might I suggest in the future you check your phone some time? It will save me from having to make a trip over here in the future.”

“Sorry to put you out,” Cam responded, making a flourishing gesture of apology.

She stared at her brother a moment longer, then turned her attention back to Oliver, “It was nice to meet you Oliver. I hope you enjoy your studies here,” she said, rewarding him with a smile.

“Thanks, you too,” he babbled.

Chuckling softly to herself, she quit the room.

“Did I tell you or what? Rolls in here to check up on me with the pretense of going over to grandma’s house, sheesh,” Cam stated.

“Um,” Oliver noised.

“Don’t worry, I know you’ve blinded by her seeming hotness, but it’s just a cruel illusion, a trick of the light, smoke and mirrors my friend to hide the beast that lurks within,” he said, moving his hands up to his chest. “Titties? Push up bra. Hair? Bottle blonde. Fake eyelashes. Machinations designed to dull your wits. Dude, right now she basically just owned you and robbed you of all but your most basic of functions,” he commented. “Did I not tell what a cunning creature she was? She has that effect on people, but she knows she has that effect, making it deliberate and with malice of intent. Pure evil,” Cam stated.

“I think I might need some alone time,” Oliver chuckled, letting out a long measured breath.

“Omega Pi,” Cam whispered conspiratorially, making his eyes big and round and nodding slowly for effect.

Oliver chuckled and shook his head. When he had made the decision to come here, he had known he was going to have to share a room and was a little concerned about what his next roommate to be might be like. That Cam was very affable and friendly, good sense of humor, put his mind at ease. The fact that he had an astoundingly hot sister didn’t hurt either. He doubted there were any girls back home that could hold a candle to the one who had called him cute. He was both thrilled and intimidated by her at the same time.

Orientation and a Dialogue on Relative Negativity

Cam did a half ass job of getting his belongings put away before heading off to his grandmother’s house leaving Oliver to himself for the evening. Although there was a formal orientation scheduled in a couple of days’ time, he decided he would go out and get a feel for the campus, try and figure where his classes were and walking time to get between them. Later, he thought he would check out a couple of local eateries and grab a bite.

Being warm enough out he didn’t need a jacket, he grabbed his phone, wallet, site map, and course schedule before setting out. Over a hundred years old, the institution possessed an air of historical posterity.

Crossing the diagonal path through the open concourse, he spotted two women walking together at an angle and away from him, long legs moving in synchronous stride, students in their path parting like ducks separating before a pair of approaching foxes. Even from the distance, the two women appeared of similar height and exceptionally well put together. One dark haired, while the other woman was fair. Watching the cadence of their walk, it reminded him of models on a catwalk. The old adage, forewarned is forearmed came to mind and based on the description Cam provided, one thought came to mind. Omega Pi. Chuckling to himself, he resumed his exploration of the grounds still familiarizing himself with possible routes to take to attend classes and making some notations on his site map.

Finding a place to eat was easy enough and he grabbed himself a soup and sandwich before making the trek back to the dorms.

When he arrived, Cam had already returned and was lying on his still unmade bed, leg crossed over a knee and he was on his phone. “Hey man,” he said without bothering to look up.

“This place is huge,” commented Oliver as he put the schedule and map on his desk before sitting on his bed.

“I know, right?” Cam replied, putting down his phone and sitting up.

“How did your dinner go?” Oliver inquired.

“Gah,” Cam replied in an exasperated tone with accompanying eye roll. “Basically I got read the riot act,” he groused.

“I’m sensing you might have been considered a handful as a child,” he jested.

Cam grinned, “I was a cherub,” he replied, putting his hands together as if in prayer and displaying his most innocent look.

Oliver shook his head and chuckled.

“I did however find the location of a peeler bar not too far off campus,” Cam added, rubbing his hands together, the expression on his face transforming to not so innocent.

“I’m not legal yet,” Oliver replied.

Cam snorted and waved a hand, “Everything is legal until you get caught,” he stated.

“I think I saw two of your sister’s housemates when I was out on my walk,” Oliver said.

“Oh?” Cam said, tilting his head.

“I didn’t see them up close, but the way moved, I’m pretty sure they were from Omega Pi,” he explained.

Cam frowned, “So you didn’t interact with them or get the glower of indifference?” he queried.

Oliver shook his head, “They were walking away from me and seemed to be going somewhere,” he clarified.

“Did you take a picture with your phone?” he asked.

Oliver frowned, he hadn’t thought of that, “No,” he answered.

Flopping back onto his bed, “Boring,” Cam declared. “You got me all excited for nothing.”

“Sorry,” Oliver offered.

“You know, now that I think about it, I am going to make it my personal mission to fuck at least one Omega Pi before the end of the school year. A BJ will count as a half, so either fuck one, or get blown by two different ones. It’s like a quest,” Cam avowed.

“Pretty lofty aspirations,” Oliver stated, an image of Cam’s sister coalescing in his mind.

Cam chuckled, “I have a plan, a master strategy if you will to bring my goal to fruition. You see, I happen to know the girls of Omega Pi have this thing they do, Sersei was telling me about it. You see, each sister gets some of those little pink rubber wristbands, you know the ones, anyway, they each get some and then they give them out to dudes that catch their fancy. The rule says, a guy can only get one band from any particular girl, but several girls can give the same guy one. I know it’s stupid, but hear me out. Whoever gets the most wristbands can win a date with an Omega Pi from one of the girls who originally gave him a wristband. I don’t know how it works if there is tie, Sersei never told me. She also never told me how many wristbands each girls gets either. So my strategy is elementary Watson, get the most wristbands,” he concluded, nodding.

“Theoretically, your plan will work, the caveat being predicated by the necessity of getting more wristbands than any other dude,” Oliver said.

“True,” Cam conceded.

“And there’s the fact there is no guarantee you’re going get laid on your date,” he added.

Cam scowled, “You are just full of negativity right now aren’t you little Miss Merry Sunshine?” he accused.

“And let’s not forget the dating mortality rate of a freshman,” he pointed out. It was common knowledge. Freshman girls, swarmed by dudes looking for fresh tail. Freshman boys, no chance, unless one was attached to one of the collegiate teams and there was some suggestion of possible professional aspirations, then maybe. Maybe. Two dorm dwellers? More likely to get hit by lightning.

“If you’re going to be my wingman, you need to employ the power of positive thinking there Oliver. I don’t want to crash and burn before I even get off the tarmac,” Cam asserted.

“Call me a pragmatist,” Oliver grinned.

“You’re failing to consider one very important intangible my potential rivals lack my pessimistic friend,” Cam suggested, grin bordering on a smirk.

“And what pray tell is this little advantage I have so egregiously overlooked?” Oliver asked.

Spreading his hands, “Access,” Cam stated.

“I’m not sure I follow your logic thread,” Oliver replied, narrowing his eyes.

“Sersei, she lives in the Omega Pi house which gives me a credible reason to go over there, ergo, a chance to meet the other girls habituating in that residence and woo them with my roguish charm and boyish good looks. It’s an absolute stroke of genius if I do say so myself,” he said smugly.

“Just a point of clarification if I might?” Oliver queried.

Cam extended his hand, “Please do.”

“Did you or did you not state earlier that some of the discord in your relationship with your sister stemmed from your trying to bed her friends? And, if this were the case, what would stop her from sabotaging your efforts to know some of her sisters in the biblical sense?” he asked.

Cam stared at the other youth, face expressionless. “While your argument possesses some merit, might I remind you of my earlier comment relating to your negativity,” he said flatly, making Oliver chuckle.

The First Pink Wristband

That first night in the dorms, Cam fell asleep very quickly, while Oliver remained awake, brain working overtime from the overload of input arising out of his first day. Fortunately for him, Cam wasn’t a snorer, he was however a bit of a talker. While most of the words Cam uttered were pretty much unintelligible, there was an odd one here and there that was very clear. Add random giggles to it and Oliver found it all very amusing until he finally fell asleep himself.

When morning arrived, Oliver was up before Cam, taking care of ablutions. When he returned to the room, Cam was awake lying in bed.

“Are you ready?” Cam inquired.

“For?” Oliver questioned, putting his little leather bag of sundries back in its spot on his shelf.

“To begin my quest for a sweet slice of Omega Pi?”

“Are you sure you want to do this? It’s kind of like a kid stepping out of little league and jumping straight to the majors. Maybe you want to spend some time in the minors refining your game before you move up to the big leagues and go after one of these girls?” he inquired.

“Nice baseball analogy, but I’m from Mariners country and that makes me more of a Seahawks fan. Ground and pound baby. Beast mode. Eye of the tiger, no fear,” Cam countered.

Oliver grinned at the enthusiasm.

“Okay then, I guess if I’m part of this plan, you better fill me in on it?” Oliver said, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

“Phase one. Now remember when I told you Sersei thinks of herself in more of an adult capacity over me? That attitude of hers has often led us into conflict. So now, all I need to do is preen that ego of hers, stroke it a little bit to make her feel important, like I’m actually taking her lofty wisdom to heart. She’ll see it as conformity on my part, making her more inclined to regard me in a more favorable light, ipso facto subtly influencing her in her interactions with the other girls in her house,” Cam explained.

“Or, she will see your efforts as an attempt to psychologically manipulate her to your own insidious and lascivious ends,” Oliver countered bluntly.

“What is with you and all this defeatist attitude of yours? Is it because you were an only child? No one to play catch with?” Cam asked, frowning.

Oliver shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe,” he offered.

“Now that is only phase one. Phase two, involves exposure. There are thousands of students who go here, thousands and only a handful of these girls. Like I said last night, the more often I go over to their house, the more it enhances my ability to be seen. Anyone else going over there will look like a harsh creeper just lurking around the area like a potential serial rapist, while I got the golden ticket to get right inside the chocolate factory itself, you know what I mean?” Cam relayed, a self-satisfied look on his young face.

Nodding slowly, “Makes sense,” Oliver supplied. Besides, supporting Cam might lead to him getting another chance to talk with Sersei.

Cam frowned, “What? No little jab or needle to pop my balloon? No trying to break my glass, which incidentally is half full,” he challenged.

Oliver laughed and shook his head.

Cam got up and took some time getting ready for the day. When he finally returned to the room, Oliver grinned and shook his head.

“Well,” Cam asked, spreading his hands.

“Without sounding gay, you look really good,” Oliver said sincerely, nodding.

“I clean up pretty good,” Cam said, beaming at the approval.

Oliver chuckled, “I’m impressed,” he admitted.

Grabbing a quick breakfast and taking care of a few errands at the campus, they chose to walk over to the house. The building itself was a large older three story structure constructed in the Victorian style. There was a large veranda along the front of the house and the symbols for Omega encapsulating a smaller Pi prominently placed higher up on the house. The neatly trimmed lawn in the front was divided up the middle by a cement walkway.

Climbing the stairs, the two young men approached the heavy wooden door with a stained glass window inset into it, Cam reaching out and knocking in the space between the jamb and the window before turning and grinning at Oliver. “Trick or treat,” he whispered softly, raising an eyebrow.

The curtain behind the colored pieces of glass fluttered and the door opened partway, the face of a very attractive young woman appeared, light brown hair with streaks of blonde tied back.

“May I help you?” she asked, tone firm, almost haughty as she looked them over.

“I’m here to see my sister, Sersei,” Cam said grinning, touching his chest, “Cam.”

The girl’s rich milk chocolate colored eyes flicked over to Oliver before back to Cam. “Wait here,” she instructed, vanishing and closing the door.

Turning his head, “Gum on the shoe? What did I say?” Cam asked. “That one needs an industrial strength enema to get the stick out of her butt.”

When the door reopened, Sersei stood there, dressed in a light colored knee length summer dress, “Cameron,” she said flatly, before looking over at the other youth, “Oliver,” she voiced much more pleasantly, smiling warmly at him.

“Thanks for giving me some time,” Cam said, tone conciliatory. “Can we come in?”

“No. So what is it that you want?” she queried, eyes narrowing as she looked back to her brother.

“I just wanted to come over and say how much I appreciate your help and guidance getting me situated here. I know in the past I may have been difficult to live with,” Cam said, pausing when she raised an eyebrow.

“Difficult? Nearly impossible,’ she said, nodding toward Oliver.

Cam smiled, “I know. I was pretty immature and now that we’re here, I realize I’m going to need you to help me adapt to this environment,” he said, eyes downcast, mouth pursed.

“You came all the way over here to share this newfound perspective of yours?” she asked, folding her arms under her breasts.

Cam nodded, looking back to her eyes, “I wanted to do it in person as opposed to over the phone or through texts, and I brought Oliver along to give you a witness in the event I screw up and we need third party clarification,” he said, placing a hand on the other youth’s shoulder.

“Not if you screw up, it’s only a matter of when you screw up, like a cosmic eventuality,” she corrected.

“You’re right, when I screw up, because I’m still young and I’m going to make mistakes,” he added, nodding in agreement.

A slight smile on her face appeared, “Well I’m glad you’re at least making an effort,” she said, patting him on the cheek as her vibrant blue eyes looked over to Oliver. “You’re the one who is going to have to keep him out of trouble you know?” she added, smiling.

Grinning back, he nodded.

“Here,” she said, reaching into her pocket and producing a thick pink rubber wristband, Omega and Pi indented into it and colored red, the name ‘SERSEI’ recessed on the opposite side. “Stick out your hand,” she instructed, nodding to his right hand.

Raising the same arm, he complied.

Sucking her lower lip into her mouth, she stretched the pliant wristband over his hand and placed it on his wrist. “There,” she said, releasing her lip and grinning at him. “Just my way of saying thanks for enduring my brother here,” she added.

Unable to chisel the grin off his face, Oliver thought for sure he must have looked a little mental as he nodded, “Thanks back, no, I mean, thanks for the wristband,” he babbled.

Tilting her head slightly to the side, she smiled coyly, “You have to wear that from now on,” she stated.

“I will,” he assured.

“Good. It means you belong to Omega Pi now,” she chuckled, giving him a wink.

There were so many witty things Cam wanted to say and it required every ounce of personal willpower for him to remain quiet. Keeping his teeth together inside his mouth he just smiled and nodded, before, “Please thank the young lady who facilitated my request to see you,” he asked.

“I’ll let Maeve know,” she replied with a smile. “Anything else?”

“No, thanks again,” Cam said.

She nodded and smiled anew at Oliver, “Remember, keep it on,” she insisted.

Oliver nodded and together with Cam descended the stairs down to the walkway. 

The Frog and the Scorpion

“Walk away casually, slowly,” Cam whispered, pausing near the end of the walk to turn back to see if Sersei was still there. She was. Raising his hand, he smiled and waved, eyes surreptitiously checking out other windows to see if perchance any of the other occupants in the house might be curious to see who had come to call,

Oliver turned, pointing at the bright almost fluorescent pink adornment on his wrist before waving.

Cam spotted movement in a couple of windows. “Phase one and two initiated,” he said through his teeth like a ventriloquist, lips not moving.

Turning onto the sidewalk, “I’m sorry,” Oliver offered, holding his hands apart.

Cam laughed, and made a face. “About what?”

“The wristband,” Oliver said, “I didn’t mean to steal any of your thunder there.”

“For the record, that’s one of Sersei’s wristbands. My sister, Sersei. That is the one Omega Pi wristband distributor I honestly don’t really care about who she hands those out to,” he assured, making a flattening motion with his hands.

“You sure?” Oliver asked, making a bit of a face.

Cam chuckled, “Yeah, we’re good. I did like the way you essentially handed her your balls though, grinning like a teenager who just figured out how to jerk off,” he chided.

“Me? What about you? Talk about kissing some ass,” Oliver chortled.

“Oh there’s no doubt about it, I got all the way up in there and I’m pretty sure it’s going to take the rest of the day to get the taste of her asshole off my tongue,” chortled Cam, shaking his head, lips pursed.

“I don’t know how you were able to do it with a straight face,” Oliver said, examining the loop of colorful rubberized plastic around his wrist.

“My feigned obsequiousness was just a small part of the overall plan. While we waving farewell, there were of couple of sisters lurking in the windows, checking us out. It’s like planting a seed. It takes a little time for it to germinate and grow. That’s what we did today,” he said.

“It’s bright,” Oliver commented, spinning the loop around his wrist.

“I’m kind of disappointed we didn’t get a chance to go inside and recon the house itself. Might have been nice to see if there were some things in there that might have given us some insight into a few of the residents, you know, like décor, posters, music, that kind of stuff. That chick at the door was like icy hot,” he chuckled. “And a little stuck up.”

“Icy hot?” Oliver asked, ceasing fiddling with the wristband.

“So cold, it burns your fingers,” Cam clarified.

“Speaking of hot,” Oliver commented.

“Don’t you say it, don’t,” warned Cam.

“I’m just to saying your sister looked nice,” he said.

Shaking his head, Cam chuckled, “It may have been my tongue up her butt, but she’s got your whole head wedged right up there,” he accused, shaking his hips to emphasize his point.

Oliver made a dismissive sound with his mouth, “As if,” he scoffed.

“I’ve seen it before. She’s like a spider wrapping her silk around you right now and you have no clue. Tell me you wouldn’t crawl through a mile of broken glass just for a chance to kiss that ass of hers?” he challenged.

Oliver laughed but didn’t answer.

“Your silence condemns you,” Cam chortled.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Oliver answered disdainfully.

Cam laughed, “I’m just breaking your balls dude,” he said.

“I don’t have any ulterior plans for your sister, it’s just, she’s very attractive,” Oliver replied.

“It’s okay it’s not you man. I told you I’ve seen her do stuff like this before. When she was a senior in high school, one of my best friends got caught up in her and she played with him until she got bored. Is what it is. I’m not judging, it’s just I know what happens behind the curtain but for you right now, the magic still feels real,” he explained.

Was he right? Was he being drawn into her charms? He laughed, “Why? Why would she want to ensnare me?” he queried.

Cam shrugged, “Who knows, amusement maybe, like a cat playing with a mouse,” he offered.

“Couldn’t she just be being nice for the sake of being nice?” he asked.

Stopping, Cam inquired, “You know the one about the frog and the scorpion?”

Oliver shook his head, “No, I don’t know what you’re referring to,” he replied.

Raising is hands to chest height, Cam grinned, “So okay, one day there’s this scorpion who wants to cross a river, he sees this frog and asks, ‘Hey man can you put me on your back and carry to the other side of the river?’ But the frog hesitates, he’s afraid of being stung. The scorpion argues that if the frog got stung, they would both drown. Seemed like a valid argument so the frog agrees and lets the scorpion on his back and starts swimming out into the water. In the middle of the river the scorpion brings its tail back and stings the frog, basically dooming them both to drown. Scorpion venom pumping through his little amphibian heart, the frog asks the scorpion ‘Why? Why would you do that? You just killed us both.’ The scorpion laughs and says it stung the frog because that was what was in its nature to do. You my friend are a frog, my sister is a scorpion and you just let her on your back,” Cameron said, shaking his head and arching an eyebrow and making a striking motion at Oliver’s shoulder with his right hand.

Frowning, “I think maybe growing up in a house full of women may have slightly jaded your opinion of them as a species some,” Oliver commented.

“Like you bouncing a ball off the wall to play catch all by yourself, nurture versus nature,” Cam replied with a broad grin.

“That being said, you’re right, I probably would crawl through that glass to get a shot at her. Be the best thirty seconds of her life,” Oliver said coyly, eyes narrow, lips puckered.

Clapping an arm Oliver’s shoulder, Cam laughed and together they started back toward the campus. “What kind of stupid name is Maeve?”

Burning the Candle at Both Ends

The next couple of days were a flurry of activity as the entire facility seemed to be gaining momentum in preparation for the upcoming semester.

The bursary Oliver had received to attend university was pretty small and while the student loans took care of courses, materials, and housing expenses, there was nothing left over for living. His parents had provided him with an ‘emergencies only’ credit card, but the reality of the situation was that if he wanted any spending cash, he was going to need a job. The influx of new students into the area meant there were more kids than jobs, at least close to the school.

Cam was in the same boat, but seemed wholly unconcerned by the situation. “Shit will take care of itself. Here,” he said, picking up a business card off his desk and handing it to Oliver. “Sersei said the old broad who owns the shop is looking for someone to do some heavy lifting and mind the till from time to time.”

Taking the card, Oliver looked at it, Vesper’s Candles and Such. “Candles?” he asked.

Cam shrugged, “I don’t know, Sersei gave it to me. Apparently the old gal makes them herself, wax on, wax off Daniel-san,” he said, making circular motions with his hands.

He didn’t know anything about candles but what he did know, is he needed a job. Wandering back over to his side of the room, he dialed the number. A pleasant sounding woman answered and he set up an appointment for an interview later in the afternoon.

Disconnecting the call, he relayed the information to Cam and immediately Googled the address and then city transit lines and scheduling.

Finding the shop was easy enough, getting to it another matter, requiring him to make two zone transfers. All in all, he figured it would probably take him almost three quarters of an hour to get there.

Taking the bus, and making the necessary changes, it took him just under forty minutes, including walking to and from bus stops to get to the shop.

The outside of the shop was small and unremarkable, a sign above the store front reading the same as the card. The windows were curtained, he supposed to keep the temperature down.

Pushing through the door, the wood striking a bell on a metal hanger above the jamb of the door and ringing out. He was instantly greet by the smell of a variety of scents, each mingling with the other and hanging richly in the air.

“Just moment,” came the female voice from earlier on the phone from somewhere beyond the doorway leading into the rear of the shop.

Looking around, he took stock of all of the amazing candles lining the shelves in the dimly lit room. There were all shapes and size and colors. There were others in the glass display case as well.

A woman appeared through the door, “Oliver?” she asked, slipping a ring on her right thumb and extending a hand, warm smile on her face.

He stood there a moment, slightly agog. Cam had made reference to this woman being older so he had envisioned some blue haired spinster making candles, instead, she was positively gorgeous, shapely body a half dozen inches shorter than him, thirtyish, maybe a little older, long dark hair under a do-rag.

“Yes,” he babbled, smiling and taking her hand.

“Vesper,” she answered, grinning.

“You have an amazing shop,” he commented, releasing her hand.

Placing hands on hips, she looked around, “Thank you, I do my best,” she said. “I’m open most nights until about 8:30, so I need a little help in the afternoons and early evening,” she stated.

“I’ll be available around 3:00 Mondays through Wednesdays, a little later on Thursdays and Fridays. I also have weekends off so I could come in then too,” he offered.

“About an hour by bus from the school?” she asked.

“Thereabouts, if that’s alright?” he queried.

“You planning on robbing me or taking advantage of a girl working all alone here in the shop?” she asked playfully, angling her head to the side and narrowing her light green eyes.

He shook his head, “No,” he replied.

Grinning, she looked him up and down, eyes lingering a split second longer on the flash of bright pink encircling his wrist before meeting his eyes again, “You look honest enough, plus you’re cute as hell, so consider the jobs yours,” she advised, nodding slowly.

“Thank you, I’ll take it,” he beamed, smiling from ear to ear.

Chuckling, “Don’t you want to know what it pays?” she teased.

“I was hoping you would compensate me in wax,” he said with a grin.

“Cheeky. I like it,” she retorted.

She told him she would pay him a dollar an hour above minimum and needed him for about fifteen to twenty hours a week. She had no problem with him doing schoolwork in the shop but advised him she would not tolerate absenteeism or showing up for work under the influence.

Agreeing to her terms, he asked when he could start and she told him the next day. One more thing off of his ’to do’ list. Bidding her farewell, he returned back to the campus.

When he arrived back at his room, Cam was on his phone, feet up. “How did it go at Madame Tussaud’s?” he asked without bothering to look up.

Oliver chuckled, “I got the job,” he answered.

“Lucky,” he said sarcastically.

Plopping down on the side of his bed, Oliver shook his head, “I don’t know who told you she was old? She couldn’t have been forty. Very attractive,” he said.

Cam sat upright, swinging his legs off the bed, “Whoa, whoa, hold on a minute there Olive Oyl! Are you telling me the candle chick is actually a heater?”

Oliver grinned, “Using your vernacular, I would classify her as eminently bangable,” he said.

Cam scowled, “Sersei said she was older,” he groused.

“She is older than us,” Oliver offered.

Shaking his head, Cam made a growling noise in his throat, “I think she tricked me by the way she said it, ‘older lady’, but I’m okay,” he paused, putting on a calm face, “I shall thank her for her suggestion and let her know you were able to take the job,” he added, nodding. “The silver lining to this cloud, I mean aside from you getting to work for some hot older gal, bravo for you, is it gives me another chance to wander over to Omega Pi and work on my seedlings.”

“If only they knew how fiendishly clever you are Professor Moriarty,” Oliver said, wringing his hands together.

“Like fish in a barrel,” Cam said, getting up and checking his watch. “Coming?”

“What? Now?” Oliver asked, checking his own wristwatch.

“Sure, after we can swing by the stripper bar I told you about, celebrate your inclusion into the proletariat working class,” he said.

Letting a breath, Oliver nodded and stood up, “I suppose.”

Tie Score

While the two young men walked toward the Omega Pi house, Cam pretty much interrogated Oliver about the proprietress of the shop.

“Vesper? It even sounds like an old lady name, Eleanor of Aquitaine, or something, you know what I mean?” Cam asked.

“I don’t know, names go in and out of vogue, who can say?” replied Oliver, shrugging his shoulders.

“Says the Dickensian Oliver Twist, please sir, may I have another?” joked Cam.

“Cam rhymes with spam,” Oliver reported, “And I don’t like spam!” he added, doing his best Terry Jones waitress impersonation from the Monty Python skit.

Cam guffawed, “I love it,” he replied, using a contrived English accent.

Oliver chuckled, “I wasn’t sure you’d get the reference,” he said as they arrived at the house.

“No, I got it. How do I look?” he asked.

“Good,” Oliver said before the duo moved up the walkway.

At the door, Cam knocked thrice in staccato fashion, nothing trite as ‘Shave and a Haircut’.

The door opened and this time the young woman opening it was tall, almost six feet, long dark hair drawn back, and very piercing blue eyes. “Yes?” she inquired, a frown manifesting at the corners of her full lipped mouth.

“Cameron here to see Sersei if she’s available?” he said politely, flashing the beautiful girl a broad smile.

“And the name Cameron should mean something to me?” she replied disdainfully.

“Oh sorry, I’m her brother,” Cam answered.

“And you?” she asked, turning her penetrating gaze to Oliver.

Pointing at the wristband, “Um, Oliver,” he said, feeling very much like a mouse under the eyes of a raptor.

Seeing the little rubber band, a smile crossed her face, the stern expression disappearing, “I’ll check and see if she’s in,” she advised, smile growing slightly before she closed the door.

Sersei appeared, “Hello,” she said.

Cam grinned and nodded, “Glad we caught you here,” he said.

Smiling wryly, she shook her head, eyes roaming over to Oliver and giving him a wink before looking back at her brother, “What is it you want this time?” she inquired.

Cam put his hand on Oliver’s shoulder, “Actually it was Oliver who wanted to come by in person and say thanks for providing the tip that turned into a job for him, he was just a little shy. I couldn’t make it, so he went instead and got the job at the candle place,” he stated, surprising Oliver.

“Um, yeah, Vesper seemed really nice and I guess just thanks,” he blurted.

Sersei rolled her eyes, “Cam I set that up specifically for you,” she said, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry,” apologized Oliver, expression collapsing. “I’ll let her know I can’t take the job if it was meant for Cam,” he added, frowning slightly.

Sersei softened, “No, no, it’s okay. If Vesper was willing to take you on, then that’s okay,” she said with a conciliatory smile. “I was just trying to help out a former sister looking for a little extra help. I’ll just have to go back to the well and see if there is something else I can do to try and help Cam find a job,” she added.

There was a twitch at the corners of Cam’s mouth, him able to repress a sour look before it appeared, “This lady Vesper, she’s an Omega Pi?” he inquired.

Sersei nodded, “She graduated like twelve years ago or so,” she answered.

“I’m sorry I dropped the ball on this one,” Cam apologized, shaking his head sheepishly.

She chuckled, “Like I said, as long as she’s getting the help she needs, that’s all that counts in the end,” she stated, cupping a hand to her brother’s cheek.

“I made a point of coming by here a couple days ago to tell you how things were going to be different but instead I just let you down,” he admitted.

“Cameron, Cameron, Cameron,” she said, patting his cheek before lowering her hand, “it’s no big thing,” she reassured.

“Shit,” he mumbled.

Chuckling, she shook her head, “At least you’re making an effort,” she said.

“Excuse me Sersei,” came a female voice from the other side of the door.

Sersei turned her head, “Sorry,” she said with a smile, pushing open the door revealing another young woman standing there, this one an astounding blonde, dressed like she was going to go for a run.

Seeing the two young men standing on the veranda, the new girl grinned, flashing small white teeth.

“Brooklynn, this is my brother Cam and his roommate Oliver,” Sersei introduced.

The blonde girl nodded, ponytail bouncing, limpid green eyes clear and bright as she looked from one to the other, then widening when spied the pink wristband on Oliver.

“Hi,” Cam said, bobbing his head and extending a hand toward Brooklynn, doing everything in his power to refrain from looking at the two globes straining against the fabric of her bright green tank top.

Taking his offered hand, she gave it a little squeeze and released it, “Brother eh?” she said, nose crinkling as her grin deepened.

He nodded, “She’s been awesome helping me adapt to the university,” he said.

The girl looked to Sersei, sucking her plump lower lip into her mouth, “Can I?”

Rolling her eyes, Cam’s sister chuckled, “If you’re going to do what I think you’re going to do, that’s up to you,” she replied.

Reaching out, Brooklyn traced her fingers over Cam’s cheek, “Give me just a minute cutie and I’ll be right back,” she stated, moving back  into the house and ascending a brought set of stairs leading up to the second floor.

Cam maintained his composure, innocent expression still on his face as he watched the girl go. Long incredible legs, heart shaped bottom. He could feel his body stirring.

When she returned downstairs, she was holding a pink wristband in the spread fingers of her right hand. Stopping in the open door, she held up her hand with the band,  “I don’t know if Sersei told you what these are for, but I would really like for you to wear one of mine,” she said, lowering her eyes and looking at him through impossibly long lashes.

“Oh no, I couldn’t,” he said, “I don’t know, I’m, well, okay, for you,” he conceded, extending his arm toward her.

“Please,” Sersei murmured, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

Slipping the band over his hand, she released it, letting it resume its normal shape, “You have to keep this one,” she cautioned, holding up her right index finger.

“I will,” he assured, spinning the loop on his wrist, spying the symbols and the girl’s name.

“It’s a symbol of our house,” Brooklynn stated.

“Thank you,” Cam said.

Brooklynn giggled and exchanged glances with Sersei before descending the stairs and beginning her run.

“Anything else?” Sersei inquired, amused expression on her pretty face.

“Please just let me know if there’s another job opportunity,” Cam requested.

“And thanks again from me,” Oliver said with an appreciative nod.

Sharing departing pleasantries, the boys quit the house. The smile on Cam’s face wide and Cheshire-like in nature.

Lightning Strikes Again

Walking away from the Omega Pi house, Cam fingered the little piece of bright pink rubberized plastic on his wrist. “Genius or what? Right place, right time, my plan was perfectly executed,” he chortled, pleased with himself.

“I have to hand it to you,” Oliver acknowledged, “worked out pretty much like you set it up.”

“Fuck was she not the most amazingly gorgeous creature you have ever laid eyes upon?” he asked.

“She is definitely a looker. Way friendlier than the dark haired girl who answered the door,” Oliver replied.

“Don’t get me wrong, that chick was cute in her own way, you know, in that ‘I need to get fucked in the ass to teach me not to be such a bitch’ kind of way,” Cam replied.

“Can’t for sure say I’ve seen that particular look on a girl’s face before,” Oliver countered.

“For future reference, that was it,” Cam chortled, “you want to go see some naked girls?”

“I don’t think we’re going to get in,” Oliver opined.

“You and your negative vibes, sheesh,” Cam replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

Late afternoon with the sun still shining, the club appeared fairly innocuous and nondescript, two broad doors beneath a subdued sign.

“Den of Desire, how very droll,” mumbled Oliver, rolling his eyes

Pulling the long vertical brass handle on the door to the left, Cam opened it and stepped through, instantly greeted by a huge thickly muscled man wearing jeans and a black t-shirt that had ‘DEN’ stenciled on in white seated next to a table reading a newspaper. A short brush cut and goatee, the man looked like crime spree waiting to happen.

Oliver swallowed hard, thinking they just might catch a beating for the audacity of daring to step inside.

Cam smiled and nodded, nonchalantly turning down the short corridor leading into the Den.

“I’m with him,” Oliver babbled, heart pounding, jerking a thumb after Cam.

The scary man nodded then looked back down on his paper.

The interior of the bar was dimly lit, one central stage elevated and surrounded by chairs dominating the floor. There were several other table up and away from the stage. In corner to the left was the bar itself and further down the wall was a raised DJ booth.

There were only four other patrons in the bar, two at one table, the other two seated by themselves.

“That’s the power of positive thinking my friend,” Cam whispered as they made their way into the club pulling Oliver down to the seats ringing the elevated stage.

A scantily attired female waitress walked up, “You boys old enough to be in here?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Cam grinned, “Would we have made it passed Conan the doorman if we weren’t?” he countered, giving her a wink.

She smiled, “What will it be then?” she inquired.

“Bud? You have bud?” Cam asked.

“Bottle or draft?”

“Draft,” he said, looking at Oliver, then back to her, holding up two fingers.

“You got it sweetie,” she replied, turning and walking away.

The man behind the bar did a headcount of people in the bar and, moved down the wall and climbed into the DJ booth. “All right, are you fellas ready?” came his voice over the speakers, “Let’s give it up for sticky sweet Kandi!”

What little light there was in the bar dimmed and the ones over the stage got brighter. Through the thick black curtains at the rear of the stage came a tall auburn haired girl dressed in a racy nurse’s candy striper uniform, large rounded breasts threatening to burst free as she dropped a rolled up towel near the back of the stage and strode purposefully out, red high heels clicking off the polished surface.

She was amazing, body lithe and sensuous as she circled the brass pole, Paralyzer by Finger Eleven belting out of the speakers. Gyrating her hips slowly, smoldering eyes locked on the young men seated in front of her, she smiled coquettishly.

The waitress returned, settling down a cardboard coaster and drink in front of each boy. Cam handed her a ten and told her to keep the change.

When the next song started, All She Wants to do is Dance by Don Henley, she removed her bra, springing free two exquisite nearly perfect breasts, each crowned with a tight little pink nipple. Pressing them together, she covered the nipples, teasing the handful of spectators in the audience before snaking out a long tongue and flicking at each nipple. Releasing the round globes, she dropped down on the floor, writhing provocatively.

At the end of the song, she moved to the back of the stage, picking up something and putting it in her mouth, the small white handle of a sucker protruding from between her Cupid’s bow lips as she spread the towel out to the gravelly voice Leonard Cohen singing Hallelujah.

Moving sinuously toward the two lads at the edge of the stage, she pulled a small red lollipop from her mouth, touching first the left then the right nipple of each breast, sly grin on her gorgeous face while she extended the hand holding the lollipop, right thumb and forefinger holding the little white stick by the end as she rolled it along Cam’s bottom lip.

Opening her own mouth, she extended her tongue and arched an eyebrow. Cam mimicked the gesture, his lips parting and she put the little sucker into his mouth. Rearing back onto her knees, she slipped her thumbs into the waistband of the sheer red and white thong, pulling it partway down before lifting it back up.

By the time her set was done, she vanished through the curtains into the back, each boy fully aroused, the lights over the stage darkening as the DJ said, “Kandi, let her know you love her.”

Clearing his throat, Cam nodded, “I do love her,” he said, clapping his hands together loudly.

Oliver nodded, mutely, clapping though not nearly as vigorously as his companion.

Kandi appeared through a door to the side of the stage, dressed in a white silk robe with black and red embroidery on it.

Cam whistled and nodded, big grin on his face.

Walking slowly towards the two, she leaned in close to Cam, “Is that all cheer for me sugar?” she purred, hot breath in his ear.

Leaning to the side and looking at her he nodded.

“Here,” she said, hand emerging from her pocket, pink wristband stretched out between her fingers.

“Oh my god, you’re Omega Pi,” he declared, eyes raising.

“Girl has to work through university somehow,” she replied, taking his right hand and slipping the band over it and onto his wrist.

Tussling his hair, she chuckled and sashayed away.

Cam snapped his head around to Oliver, “Best frigging day ever!”

Oliver nodded, catching sight of the monstrous bouncer coming into the bar and walking directly toward where they were sitting, a very unwholesome and menacing expression on his nasty face. “We should go,” he murmured.

Noticing the approaching slab of muscle, Cam picked up his glass and drained it in a single chug.

“You two, ID,” said the intimidating man, voice deep and filled with the promise of pain.

“We were just leaving my good man,” Cam said, rising to his feet and clapping a hand on the larger man’s rock hard shoulder. “You lift bro?”

The man looked at Cam’s hand then at the boy himself, lip curling, “When I’m not training for my next fight,” he growled.

Oliver, now also on his feet, smiled and nodded. Both he and Cam were over six feet, but this behemoth was closer to six and a half feet. “Sorry sir,” he said, “my friend is right, we were just going.”

“Then go,” he urged, the tone implying sooner than later would probably be in the boys’ best interest.

Exiting the bar and down the corridor, they stepped outside.

“Why were you antagonizing that man? He looks like he kills people for a hobby,” Oliver grumbled as they walked away.

“Kandace,” Cam said, attention focused on examining the name impressed into his new wristband.

Oliver chuckled, “I though Kandi was just her stage name.”

“I’m starved, let’s get something to eat,” Cam invited.

Olive Branch

Working for Vesper was pretty easy, though she seemed to have hardly any customers making Oliver curious how she managed to stay in business. By the time Friday night rolled around, the two boys had also completed most of their indoctrination and orientation sessions.

With no traffic in the candle store that night, Vesper said he could go if he wanted, so he did, returning to the campus, finding Cam pacing back and forth, eager to return to the Omega Pi house but struggling to conceive of a feasible excuse to justify yet another trip without tipping his hand to his devious plot.

“Why not simply text your sister and invite her out for supper? Tell me and you were going to grab a bite and figured it might be nice if she tagged along,” Oliver suggested, walking over to his flop and plopping down.

Cam frowned, “That sounds more like your plan to ogle my sister,” he stated flatly. “By the way you smell like Summer Rain, or Passion Peach,” he quipped wrinkling his nose.

Sitting up, Oliver sniffed himself and shook his head and grinned, “Autumn Breeze,” he said, recognizing the distinct scent Vesper used to make candles earlier in the day. “As for inviting your sister out, of course I have a vested interest, dude your sister is a dream, but this is a two birds, one stone kind of move. Think about it, the more you get on her good side, the more likely she is going to be receptive to you and maybe even begin inviting you over there and you won’t have to contrive reasons,” he explained.

“You are like some kind of mad genius, mad I say!” Cam said, laughing maniacally, making Oliver grin.

“Not just another pretty face,” Oliver countered, framing his face with his hands.

“Like an onion, layers of complexity. Just an FYI though, because I like you, Sersei is more nightmare than dream you poor deluded soul and now she’s truly does have you molded around her little finger,” Cam stated, pulling out his phone.

“You asking her?” Oliver inquired.

“Yep,” Cam answered, thumbs dancing across the touch screen before he hit send. “It’s Friday and I don’t know what’s she up to, probably smothering kittens or something, but we’ll see. I suggested that fancy steakhouse,” he added, putting the phone down beside him.

“Getting to know you through the week, I thought you might possibly offer her some chicken strips at the Den,” Oliver teased.

“Ha ha, you’re funny,” Cam replied using a mocking tone.

“Funny how? Like a clown, like I amuse you?” Oliver countered.

Cam’s phone light up. Snatching it up, he examined the reply, “Hmm,” he said casually, face devoid of expression.

“What did she say?”

“She says sure she’ll go out for dinner, but just with me, not you, she says because you kind of weird her out,” Cam replied, shrugging and making a face.

“Really?” Oliver queried, crestfallen.

“Nah, just fucking with you. She says she would love to have dinner with us,” Cam explained.

“I have to get ready,” blurted Oliver, jumping up off the bed.

“OMG dude you are such a chick,” Cam said, shaking his head and watching his usually more reserved roommate scramble to prepare.

The restaurant was a fairly classy affair, Cam and Oliver arriving early, getting a table and checking out the menu while noshing on complimentary bread as they waited for Sersei.

When she arrived, she had her hair up, wearing a form fitting knee length black dress, matching heels and purse.

“Holy crap, she looks good,” Oliver mumbled, setting his glass of water back down.

“Remember, it’s all just a trick of the mind, but she does look good,” he grudgingly conceded, willing to admit she did look very nice as she approached the table.

Oliver started to rise first, hastily followed by Cam.

She smiled, “Good pick, the food here is very good,” she said, sliding into the chair to Cam’s right and directly opposite Oliver, flashing him a gorgeous smile.

Bringing his right arm up, Cam reached casually for his half full glass of water, showing off the pair of wristbands he now sported.

“Is that another one? Look at you go,” Sersei said, chuckling and setting her small purse at the edge of the table. “First Brooklynn, now, who gave you the other one?” she inquired, taking his arm and looking at the name on the band. “Kandace? Where did you, wait,” she paused, pursing her mouth. “Did you go to the strip club?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

Unable to restrain himself, Cam grinned, the cat that got the canary, “Yes we did and while the old me would have said it was entirely Oliver’s idea, it was mine, we just wanted to see is all,” he confessed.

Chuckling softly, she shook her head, “At least that’s something,” she acknowledged.

“I’m turning over a new leaf,” Cam boasted, puffing up his chest.

Reaching across the table, Sersei patted the back of Oliver’s hand, “Good job, exotic dancers aside,” she said, smiling, the contact sending little tingles up his arm.

Saying nothing, Oliver grinned, crimson staining his cheeks in the dim light of the restaurant

The evening was pleasant, the food as Sersei had said was very good and reasonably priced. Oliver got the distinct impression that despite Cam’s protestations and assertions to the contrary, he and his sister seemed to be getting along marvelously. Cam graciously picked up the check and the trio stopped just outside the main doors.

Turning to Oliver, she reached over his shoulder and pulled him into a hug, pressing herself firmly into him, her breasts crushed against his chest, giving him a whiff of the subtle essence of her perfume.

His body began to involuntarily respond. Quickly disengaging, he nodded and smiled, hoping to god she didn’t notice.

Chuckling softly, she favored him with a sly look from under long lashes before turning to Cam. “Little brother,” she said, giving him a platonic embrace, “thank you, I had a good time tonight.”

Cam grinned and nodded, “It seems so different now than when we were kids,” he offered.

Stepping back, she tapped him on the chest, “Don’t think for a minute I’m fooled by your grown up act. I know there is still an evil little boy in there somewhere,” she said, grinning playfully and looking at Oliver, “you too,” she added.

“Guilty as charged, but I am making a genuine effort to rehabilitate my wayward ways,” Cam assured.

“We’ll see,” she said speculatively before she departed, sashaying away.

Working for the Weekend

Apparently Saturdays were one of Vesper’s bigger volume days, not just for customer traffic browsing in the shop, but also because it was the day she used for packaging and preparing orders that had been placed online during the previous week.

In the back of the shop, aside from the small bathroom, there was also Vesper’s office which doubled as her workroom and a wider storeroom with a set of shelves filled with assorted candles of all shapes sizes and colors lining the long access wall as well as a fairly large table in the center where the order boxes were prepped.

Oliver spent a bunch of time in the larger room checking invoices against materials in open boxes while she was in her office printing out shipping labels.

Emerging from her office with a stack of printed labels, “I see you’ve caught the eye of one of the Omega girls,” she said with a slight chuckle and an eyebrow raise. “Lucky little devil you.”

“This?” he asked, smiling and raising his right hand. “Sersei. She actually offered it to me she said for keeping her brother out of trouble,” he explained, shrugging his shoulders as he affixed the shipping label to the box.

“And you think that’s it?” Vesper asked, wisp of a smile on her attractive face.

“Pretty much,” Oliver replied, pulling another strip of clear packing tape over the label.

“Those bands can mean a lot more than that,” she teased playfully.

Frowning, he put the tape gun down and looked at her, “What do you mean?”

Laughing softly, “It could mean she’s put you on her list, that you’re in her crosshairs,” she stated cryptically.

“Nah,” he scoffed dismissively.

“Why not?” she queried, moving closer, the scent of lilac following in her wake.

Her snorted, “Let’s see, she’s beautiful, she’s a junior and I am a lowly freshman,” he said.

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re a tall, articulate, and handsome young man and I’m sure there must be a little something she sees in you,” she said reaching out and touching his arm. He wasn’t sure if it was his hearing, but it almost seemed she emphasized the word little.

He wanted to make a crack about seeing something of his in Sersei, but having just recently gotten the job, he was unsure of how to respond, or if Vesper was one to take offense, so he just sort of shrugged noncommittally.

Vesper laughed again, pleasantly, not mocking, “You’re too sweet. I’m sure she is going to have a lot of fun with you,” she said, sly grin on her pretty face, eyes full of mischief.

Looking at her, “You’re my new boss and all and I’m not sure where the appropriate and inappropriate line is,” he said, leaving the rest unfinished and raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Have I offended your young and delicate sensibilities?” she asked, expression curious as she inclined her head slightly to the side.

He chuckled, “Me? No. I’m pretty open minded and have a thick skin. It would take a lot for me to be ‘offended’,” he said, using air quotes, “I really didn’t want to offend or disrespect you is why I was asking,” he said, grinning.

A ghost of a grin appeared on her face, “How very noble of you. For the record, I would like to think I’m pretty open and not overly PC conscious so let’s just say this is a free speech zone. We’ll treat it like Vegas, whatever happens here, stays here. Okay?” she stated.

Nodding in agreement, “Though please tell me if I do or say something you think has crossed that line,” he requested.

“Perchance were you a Boy Scout growing up?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

He smiled, “I was,” he replied, holding up the first three fingers of his right hand. “Be prepared,” he said, “How could you tell? Do I emit that vibe?” he inquired, lowering his arm.

Chuckling, “Call it my female intuition,” she replied coyly.

“Referring to what you said, what did you mean about Sersei playing with me?” he asked. “Cam said she was using her looks to manipulate me just for the amusement of it, is that what she’s doing?”

Moving in close enough he could detect the subtle new fragrance of her perfume under the heavy aroma of candle scent, eyes locked onto his, “Men have struggled for thousands of years to try and unravel the feminine mystery and are no closer today than when they started,” she whispered, the intensity of her look freezing him on the spot like a startled deer looking into the headlights of an oncoming car.

“Um,” he noised, shaking his head slightly.

Placing her palms on his chest, the warmth of her skin permeating the fabric of his shirt, she smiled, “Sersei has selected you and given you her favor and at the end of the day whatever it means to her is ultimately up to her,” she said arching the brow over her left eye before leaning closer, her breath warm on his cheek.

He started to get an erection, color seeping into his cheeks.

Chuckling softly, she turned away and sauntered back toward the office, leaving him in a somewhat hot and bothered state.

Dropping to a knee, he quickly pulled at the lace of his left running shoe, the position disguising the fact she had given him a bone.

Pausing at her office door, Vesper looked back, that damned Mona Lisa smile on her face as she watched him fumble with the lace. Chuckling, she stepped in and closed the door behind her.

Letting out a slow measured breath, Oliver chuckled to himself, committing the details of the exchange to memory as he knotted his shoe and returned to the task of affixing the right shipping labels to the right box.

Party Time, Excellent

For the balance of Oliver’s workday, he did his best to try and keep out of Vesper’s way. Out of sight, out of mind. Once the orders were are ready to be picked up by the courier, she cut him loose for the day, giving him that sly Omega Pi smile and a wink.

Sitting on the bus, he shook his head, grinning to himself and replaying the conversation with Vesper. Returning to the school, he climbed the dorm stairs up to his room, finding the door propped open and Cam lounging on his own bed.

“If it isn’t the working stiff,” Cam said with a chuckle.

“That’s funny, working stiff, dude, you have no idea the kind of day I had,” Oliver said, shaking his head and letting out a sigh.

Twisting his body and sitting upright, Cam grinned, “So tell me what’s new and exciting in the highly competitive and lucrative candle market these days?” he asked.

“Vesper, she got me rock freaking hard and I’m pretty sure she knew it too,” Oliver replied.

“The candle lady gave you wood?” Cam said appreciatively.

“Like full on chubby,” he said, making fist and holding it rigid out in front of himself.

Cam laughed, “You should have just whipped it out and said, ‘Why don’t you blow out my candle?’” he said before curling his lip up.

“Yeah, no,” Oliver countered frowning.

“I would have,” Cam assured.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Oliver scoffed.

“That’s true,” he conceded, “I would have etched it into my mind and committed it to the spank bank for future reference,” he added.

“Exactly. She’s Omega Pi through and through, knew just what she was doing, toying with me, I’m sure of it,” he replied, kicking his shoes off and sitting up on his bed.

“No offense dude, but you radiate this naïve aura that practically begs chicks to fuck with your head. You ever been laid before?” he asked.

Oliver nodded, “Just with Sara, a few times, nothing too controversial,” he answered, two and half times by Cam’s system of accounting such things, one blow job and two energetic bouts of intercourse, once in his room, and the other in the barn on Denman’s Ranch. After that they sort of settled back into heavy petting making him wonder if he had maybe somehow done it wrong. She never said.

“You’re like a goldfish in an ocean of man eating sharks, blood in the water, and these girls can smell it on you,” he chortled.

“Whatever,” Oliver replied, shrugging his shoulders. Cam was right however, he did feel a little like the country mouse in Aesop’s fable.

“What did you want to do tonight?” Cam asked, a glint of mischief twinkling in his eyes.

“Don’t know. You?” he queried back, narrowing his eyes, unsure of where Cam might be going with this but strongly suspecting they would be taking another trip to the Omega Pi house.

“I don’t know, grab a bite. I heard there was supposed to be some type of big party over at the Phi Epsilon Theta house. We could check that out,” he said, arching an eyebrow.

Oliver made a face, “I’m not sure, maybe just get some vittles and come back here and chill,” he offered.

Cam chuckled, “I heard about the party from my sister, she said she’ll be there,” he provided.

“Being new to the school, a party might be fun,” Oliver mused, pursing his lips and nodding contemplatively.

Cam made the sound of a whip cracking, snapping his hand in time before meowing.

Rolling his eyes, Oliver grinned, “I hardly think agreeing to go to a party constitutes me being pussy whipped,” he said.

“Whipped? No, we’re talking tied to a stump and a full on cat o nine tails flogging of biblical proportions,” Cam bantered back, repeating the gesture and sound.

Oliver grinned cheekily, “So, what you’re saying is that she’s into a little light bondage then?” he asked with mirth in his eyes, raising an eyebrow and licking his lower lip suggestively.

Cam laughed, “Enough! I don’t want a mental image of my sister in studded leather and high heel thigh boots holding a whip, I yield sir, nicely played,” he conceded, raising his hands.

Oliver grinned, bowing deeply, “Thank you,” he replied.

They spent the better part of an hour getting ready, more Cam than Oliver. They grabbed a quick bite at The Sandwich Shop before making their way over to fraternity row for the party. Finding the house was no trouble at all, heavy bass beats and techno music audible almost a block from the house itself, streaks of colored light flashing intermittently through most of the front facing windows on the house and the yard was packed with all sorts of people.

Cam appeared excited, “Man, this is what I’m talking about, fucking awesome,” he said with a beaming grin as they joined the boisterous crowd, shuffling between bodies and moving toward the door leading into the house. The strong aroma of marijuana hung heavily in the air, offset with the smell of people and booze.

“Let me know if you spot Sersei anywhere,” Cam said, forced to raise his voice to be heard above the din of the noise.

The inside of the house was even more congested with milling people bouncing up and down and pressed up against one another, the music thumping away as the strobe flicked over the mob.

Sliding between two hot girls, Cam caught his foot on someone’s foot, stumbling forward and colliding into the back of a tall thickly muscled frat boy.

The guy wheeled around, facing Cam, hostile expression on his face, “You fucking moron, you made me spill my drink,” he growled menacingly over the music, looking down at the front of his now wet shirt.

The crowd in the vicinity backed suddenly away, forming a perimeter of open space around the two youths.

“Sorry,” Cam said, raising a conciliatory hand.

Someone somewhere yelled, “Fight!”

Saturday Night’s Alright

“Fucking clown,” barked the muscled youth, squaring himself to Cam.

“I said I was sorry,” Cam said, raising his hands and smiling at the larger young man. Cam was no shrimp, but this guy was a beast.

“Sorry? You’re a fucking tool,” snarled the beer soaked youth, face flush from heavy consumption of alcohol.

“I don’t want any trouble,” Cam said, shaking his head.

The music stopped, a murmur rising up from the crowd, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

“Maybe you want to take this shit outside,” growled the oversized young man, sneering and peeling off his wet shirt exposing a very well-defined and rippled upper body.

Shaking his head, Cam tried to turn away, “Sorry,” he repeated, “I don’t want to fight.”

“Pussy,” chortled the bigger youth, throwing his shirt at Cam.

“Whatever man,” Cam said, turning his back to the other boy.

Closing the distance, the big youth pushed Cam hard in the back from behind, causing him to stumble forward and fall to his knees. “I wasn’t done with you!”

“Hey,” Oliver said, slipping between two onlookers, glaring at the other youth who was grinning over Cam.

“You want some of this?” asked the aggressor, spreading his hands, a flash of bright pink on his wrist.

Helping Cam back to his feet, Oliver looked at the other boy, “Why don’t you go get yourself another drink and just settle down,” he said, shaking his head.

“Why don’t you blow me?” the other boy chortled.

“Why don’t you apologize to my friend?” Oliver said, stepping forward in the open circle, a determined cast to his expression.

“Oliver, just let it go,” Cam said, brushing his hands over his knees.

“Listen to your queer bait boyfriend and fuck off before you get hurt,” insulted the larger youth.

Drawing up close, Oliver shook his head, “Apologize,” he repeated.

The burly youth’s fist came up fast, but Oliver was faster, nimbly dodging the strike and bringing his fist directly into the other boy’s face, the youth’s lower lip splitting under his fist and instantly unleashing a stream of bright red blood.

“Shit!” commented an onlooker as the bleeding youth brought hands up to his face and staggered blindly backward a few paces and collapsing flat on his butt.

Point made, Oliver did not press the advantage and hit the other young man again, though he kept vigilantly alert lest another of the other guy’s friends tried to sucker him.

Shaking his head, “Holy,” said Cam, an element of surprise in his voice. “Shit just got real.”

“I think maybe we should go,” Oliver said, looking to Cam.

“I didn’t know you could throw down,” Cam replied, “you pwned that guy!”

Oliver felt a pair of small hands encircling his arm. Turning his head, there was a girl standing there. He had seen here before, at the Omega Pi house. It was the dark haired girl with the predatory blue eyes who had summoned Sersei for Cam earlier in the week, though he didn’t know her name. She was dressed in a snug blue dress a shade deeper than her eyes, hair drawn back

“Cute and valorous,” she said, leaning into him and pressing her body against his side, her eyes holding his a moment, coy smile blossoming on her lovely face.

Cam stepped around, big grin on his face, “Cam, we met at the Omega Pi house,” he said, extending his hand.

She glanced at the proffered hand then up to his face, smile slipping, replaced by a glacial look of irritation, “Right,” she said, turning away from him and back to Oliver.

Wrapping his arms about himself, Cam looked at Oliver and clenched his teeth, miming a shiver behind the girl’s back.

“Cerys,” she said, releasing his arm and touching his cheek.

“Oliver,” he replied.

“I know,” she said softly, smile reappearing.  Bringing her arm up between them, there was a pink band around her wrist. Slipping it off her arm, “I want you to wear this for me,” she said, extending it toward him.

“Okay,” he replied dumbly, nodding his head and allowing her to place the band on his wrist next to Sersei’s.

A hush fell over the crowd as the hulking youth with the bloody mouth climbed back to his feet, murderous intent in his eyes. Cerys snapped her head in his direction, unrelenting blue eyes on the big youth.

“I,” he mumbled, wiping blood from his face.

“You what?” she challenged, tone razor sharp.

“Um,” he noised, shaking his head.

Sersei appeared at the edge of the crowd, looking radiant in a vibrant fuchsia colored dress, another girl Oliver had not seen before at her side and also dressed in a tight little dress.

“Go home before you get embarrassed any further,” Cerys commended, raising her hand and pointing in the direction of the door.

“Go!” snapped Sersei, stepping into the circle, expression angry as she too pointed in the same direction.

The brawny youth looked from one girl to the other and nodded, the crowd parting to let him leave.

It was such an odd sight, not only watching the huge youth cowed by the girls, but by how the crowd itself seemed to defer to them.

Turning back to Oliver, Cerys leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, “Later,” she whispered, eyes moving to Sersei before she nodded.

“Oliver!” Sersei squealed, moving in close and throwing her arms over his shoulders, hugging him, the smell of alcohol mingled with her perfume. The music started again.

Adrenalin still coursing through his body, he was very aware of her firm breasts crushed up against his chest, “Sersei,” he replied almost breathlessly.

Angling her head slight to the side, she pressed her mouth against his, kissing him strongly before disengaging, giggling as she touched the back of her right hand to her mouth, “I can’t believe you made it,” or, “I can’t wait to take you,” he thought he heard her say, but with the music, he wasn’t sure exactly what and before he had a chance to ask, she was gone, lost in the horde of people partying.

Cam tugged at his arm, “C’mon Oliver,” he urged.

Letting himself be drawn, Oliver followed Cam outside.

“You are a man of mystery,” Cam congratulated, “I mean the way you dropped that guy with one shot. POW! Down he went like a sack of potatoes,” he added emphatically, clapping hand down on Oliver’s shoulder.

Oliver shrugged, “I did a little boxing back home, nothing serious,” he said. His stepdad Stan had been a former Gold Gloves boxer in his youth and had been teaching Oliver for the past couple of years.

“You certainly caught the attention of the ice queen before you lip locked my sister,” Cam chuckled, pointing at the second pink band on Oliver’s wrist.

Oliver looked at it, grinned and nodded, the sensation and taste of Sersei lingering on his lips.

“I think tomorrow, we need to drop in on the lovely ladies of Omega Pi,” Cam said, nodding as they walked back toward their dorm room.

Sunday, a Day of Reflection

Oliver rose early while Cameron slept late, the events at the Phi Epsilon Theta house chewing away at the back of his mind, leaving him to wonder whether or not there was going to be any fallout from the altercation. The last thing he needed was expulsion from the school or worse some type of felony assault charge.

Grabbing a quick shower and a bite to eat, Oliver decided to go out and walk to try and alleviate some of the anxiety gnawing away at him. It was still too early to go to the library, but he found some shade under a tree and took a seat, leaning back and checking the internet on his phone for the potential legal ramifications for punching someone in the mouth and busting it open. What he discovered did not bring him any peace of mind. Because there was actual physical harm, it would be classified as aggravated assault which, according to the law is a felony, carrying a possible consequence of prison. Self-defense might be plausible, as he did not throw the first punch, but…

Letting out a big breath, he shook his head. Bottom line, he shouldn’t have punched that guy. He wondered if maybe he should try and track him down before any authorities became involved.

A pair of white with pink piping feminine running shoes stopped in front of him, a shadow falling over him and occluding the sun.

Looking up from his phone, he raised a hand to shield his eyes, “Hello?” he said, gazing at the lean silhouette of a woman.

“Hi Oliver. I saw you sitting over here by yourself. We met yesterday. Brooklynn,” she supplied, moving to the side and out of the direct light so he could see her better.

 “Hi,” he said, lowering his arm and looking at the girl. She was dressed for jogging, big smile on her attractive face.

“I heard you knocked out Bear Briar last night,” she said, arching an eyebrow.

The name didn’t mean anything, but he supposed it belonged to the brawny youth from the night previous. “He had been drinking, I should’ve known better and not punched him,” Oliver admitted, shrugging. The fact word was spreading added to the concern fueling his steadily growing sense of anxiety.

“From what Cerys said, he was being a dick to my Cameron and got what he deserved,” she answered with a shrug.

Oliver gave her a weak smile, “I hope he’s alright,” he said.

“Melody said it was mostly just his pride that got wounded,” she informed.

“Melody?” Oliver asked.

She chuckled, “My sister. Bear Briar belongs to her,” she said, pointing at the two bands on Oliver’s wrist.

Looking down, “Oh,” Oliver replied, remembering he had seen a band on the burly youth.

“Melody really wants to meet you,” Brooklynn purred, raising her eyebrows.

“Is she upset?” Oliver queried.

“No, she’s just curious about you,” she answered.

 “Did she say anything about Bear Briar pressing any charges?” he asked, making a slight face.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” she assured, tone dismissive as she shrugged her shoulders.

 That made him feel a heck of a lot better, “That’s good,” he replied.

“Anyway, I have get back to my run. It’s was good chatting with you,” she said with a smile. “I really wish I had a band on me with right now,” she lamented, shaking her head.

Oliver smiled and held up his hands, “It’s okay,” he replied.

“Tell my little Cam I said hello and know I’ve got my eye on you,” she advised, waggling a finger before setting off.

He watched her go, and shook his head. For an Omega Pi she really didn’t seem quite the stuck up snob Cam had made them all out to be.

Climbing to his feet, he retuned back to his dorm room. Cam was awake though he was still lounging in his bed.

“What’s up? Where you been buddy?” Cam asked.

“Just getting some air. Brooklynn ran into me, said to say hi to you,” Oliver conveyed.

“She’s definitely on my list,” Cam said, visualizing the blonde and nodding. “Like all of those other little Omega Pi darlings, poor girl doesn’t realize I am a great big hunk of man candy and they all have a sweet tooth.”

Oliver rolled his eyes.                                                            

“While you were gone, I had a wicked thought,” sniggered Cam, rubbing his hands together.

“Uh oh,” Oliver murmured.

“No wait, hear me out and let me know what you think. The girls should sponsor a Pi eating contest,” he suggested, licking his lower lip and raising his eyebrows lecherously. “Get it? Pi eating?”

Oliver shook his head slowly. “Oh I get it,” he assured, “I’m just not sure how well received your idea will be to the sisters of Omega Pi,” he offered.

“Yeah, probably right,” he conceded, “though I don’t know why. You’d think girls would like it when a guy goes down on them and does the lickety split.”

Having never gone down on a girl, Oliver didn’t know, but was keen to at least give it a whirl. He had asked Sara about it, but she had said she was too self-conscious to let him try. Shrugging his shoulders, “I think maybe you should just let that one go. I’m sure at some point some other degenerate has probably floated that suggestion by the sisters and lived to regret it,” he stated.

“It is kind of funny though,” Cam chortled.

“Omega Pi, the last pie, actually seems kind of ominous,” mused Oliver.

Cam chuckled and jumped up from his bed, grabbing his jeans and a top before putting on socks, “I need to get out and about, you want to tag along?” he asked, slipping the footwear on without undoing the laces.

“Nah, think I’m just going to hang out here and rest and relax,” Oliver replied.

Nodding, Cam glanced at his jacket before deciding against it and exiting the room, sliding his hands into his pants pockets.

The Alpha of Omega

Cam really had no particular destination or purpose in mind other than to grab some air and maybe a bite as he skipped down the stairs leading out of the dorm and onto the Commons. He grinned to himself knowing that providence had shone her light down upon him when Oliver was assigned as his roommate. He really liked the other youth and as far as he was concerned Oliver was a good shit. And who knew he could fight? Cam himself wasn’t much of a scrapper, once or twice in his life, schoolyard stuff. Watching that brute drop like a bag of potatoes when Oliver popped him was simply amazing. The fact the thug was wearing a wrist band wasn’t lost on him. It was the first one he had spotted on a guy other than ones he and Oliver were sporting.

Up ahead he spied a trendy little coffee shop called Cup of Joe’s, a fair degree of foot traffic moving in and out so he figured he would grab a bagel or croissant and a coffee and chillax. Inside the bustling little place the barista was friendly and quickly filled his order. For a Sunday, he was surprised how busy the place was, spotting a vacant two seater table near the window, he navigated through the crowd and plopped down. Putting his plate and mug down next to the Sunday edition of the local paper, he stretched his shoulders and let out a yawn.

Deep down he was all too aware he was going to have to get a job, mentally kicking himself at passing on the candle gig based on Oliver’s description of the comely proprietress. But, there was still another week before the commencement of classes, so he figured there was still plenty of time. Shrugging, he flipped open the front page of the paper skimming over the words without really reading them as he took a drink from his mug.

A woman appeared outside the window, back to him, wearing skin tight black Capri pants emphasizing the miraculous shape of her perfect ass, luxurious light brown chestnut colored hair bound back. Grinning, he leaned back to enjoy the view. When she turned, it was almost like something out of slow motion TV commercial, the woman was stunning. For a moment he thought they had made eye contact and then she was through the door and standing in the queue to order.

He tried to watch her without appearing to be an obvious gawker. When she turned from the counter, a cup and plate in hand, she started in his direction. He hastily flipped through the paper to get to the sports section.        

Stopping beside his table, “Pardon me?” she smiled, inquiring, “Is this seat taken?”

Looking up, Cam nodded, then realized his mistake, “No, wait, there’s no one sitting here,” he stammered. Up close she was even more breathtaking.

Smiling, she sat down and placed mug and plate with a fruit laden muffin on the table.

“What do we have there?” she inquired, incredibly deep dove grey eyes above the wily grin on her comely face as she pointed at the two pink colored bands adorning his wrist.

He chuckled, “While I would love to tell you these little trinkets are in support for the effort to defeat breast cancer, they’re really just tokens from a couple of the young ladies at the Omega Pi sorority,” he explained.

Reaching out, she traced a finger over the top of both bands simultaneously, “What’s your name handsome?” she inquired.

Swallowing hard, he forced a grin, “Cam Crawford,” he babbled.

“Ah, Sersei’s little brother, I know who you are,” she commented, looking up and favoring him with the ghost of a smile.

Grinning, he nodded, “That’s me, sorry, I don’t know your name,” he said.

“Allie,” she supplied, pausing and grinning.

“Allie?” he asked, nodding, “short for?”

“Short for Alessandra Wynn,” she shared.

“Holy crap,” he blurted, blinking, “You’re the current president of Omega Pi,” recognizing her name if not her face.

She chuckled and nodded. “It looks like two of our sisters have already laid claim to you,” she said, sliding her hand back across the table and picking up her muffin.

Grinning foolishly, he nodded.

Tearing the pastry in half, she broke off a small piece and put it in her mouth, “So I guess all you need now is lucky number three,” she said.

“Three?” he queried.

“Three is a powerful number, the Fates, the Furies, the Norns, even Christianity references the Holy Trinity and the three wise men, not to mention the threefold Goddess,” she said.

“Or my boy Russell Wilson,” Cam replied, naming the current owner of the number three Seahawk jersey.

Taking another small morsel into her mouth, she nodded slowly and smiled before swallowing. Slipping the thin strapped purse from her shoulder, she opened it and brought out a wrist band almost identical to the two he already wore, though this had her name impressed into it.

“You know what this means?” she asked, displaying the band to him.

“Lucky number three,” he replied, using her words and moving his arm closer to her so she could put it on.

“It means now and always you belong to Omega Pi and that you accept your position as a servant to the sisters,” she asserted.

“Only three? I thought the competition was to see who could,” he started, frowning and leaving his thought incomplete.

She smiled coyly and shook her head, “Anyone who acquires three,” she clarified, “But know if you accept this band, the circle will be complete,” she advised solemnly.

“Oh I accept it alright,” he declared unequivocally.

Raising a threaded eyebrow, she nodded approvingly, “Good,” she said sliding the band over his hand to join the others. “So mote it be,” she added.

Grinning Cam nodded.

“I guess we’ll see you tonight at the Omega Pi house then, say sevenish?” she said.

“I’ll be there,” he avowed.

The Longest Day Ever

After his encounter with Allie, Cam’s feet barely touched the ground as he hustled back to the dormitory to share with Oliver.

Flying up the stairs, Cam burst into the room, startling Oliver, “Ta da,” he said, holding up the wrist with the three brightly colored bands.

“Another one?” Oliver said, chuckling and shaking his head in disbelief. “You weren’t even gone an hour.”

“I know right? It was the strangest thing. I was at that little coffee place across the way, you know the one, anyway, I just minding my business having some java and in walks this goddess, Alessandra Wynn,” Cam said, speech rapid and excited.

Oliver raised his eyebrows, “And she is?”

“Omega Pi’s big kahuna, the cheese,” Cam explained.

“Big Kahuna burger, mmm, that is a tasty burger,” Oliver replied.

Cam chuckled, “That’s funny, Pulp fiction, no, dude, she is amazing, like they haven’t invented the word yet to describe how hot she is, you know what I mean? She orders a muffin and a tea, and walks right to my table and asks to sit. Gentleman that I am, of course I said yes, and bawanga, from out of the blue she gives me another wristband.”

Oliver chuckled and rolled his eyes.

“So get this, apparently it’s not a contest to see which guy can get the most bands, dude, all you need is for three of the foxy little sugar dolls to give you one and you’re in,” Cam exclaimed.

“Three?” Oliver asked, looking down at his own two bands, “I guess that means you won then,” he said with a smile.

Holding his palms out, “No, that’s the beauty, Allie said there’s more than one winner, it’s anyone who manages to get three bands, dude, one more little honey falls for your bumpkin charm and you’ll be in heaven,” Cam explained, rolling his eye skyward and bringing his hands together as in prayer.

Grinning, “Really?” Oliver queried. “So what you’re saying is all I need is one more and I’ll get a chance to rail your sister?” he asked, grinning impishly.

Cam frowned sourly, eyes narrowing, “That’s not even funny and you know it,” he admonished raising a finger. “Now if Sersei lets you get all up in her business that’s between you and her and whatever priest you need to consult to break the demonic hold she’ll have on your soul. But between you and I, we shall not speak of such things again,” he countered, tone low and grave with mock seriousness.

Oliver laughed heartily, “Right, so you got your three, what now? You get to line up a date with one of those wristband owners?” he questioned.

“No, I have been invited to the Omega Pi house tonight,” Cam boasted, breathing on his knuckles and polishing them on the front of his shirt.

“Wow, you move fast,” Oliver commented, nodding.

Cam shook his hands, “Not me, her. Allie was the one who extended the offer and said tonight,” he defended, spreading his hands before flexing the biceps muscle of his right arm and kissing it.

Oliver’s cell phone chimed, letting him know he had received a text message. Pulling the Samsung out of his pocket, he looked down at the unknown number of the sender on the screen.

“Who from?” Cam asked.

“Don’t know,” Oliver replied, opening the message. ‘Hey Oliver, it’s Sersei, we’re having a casual little get together tonight at 7 at the Omega house. Be there or suffer my wrath, XOXO.’

“Well?” Cam asked, brow rising.

“Your sweet sister inviting me to the soiree tonight over at their house,” Oliver explained, typing back the affirmative reply, ‘I’ll be there with bells on,’ before sending, then wondering if maybe he might have worded the response a little differently.

“Nice,” Cam said, raising his hand for a high five. “Not that it’s my sister, but that you get to tag along and witness as I select the one of those sweet young ladies who shall be the lucky recipient of my affections,” he smirked.

Oliver’s phone buzzed again, Sersei sending him a kissing faced emoticon. Chuckling, he sent back an angel face emoticon and put his phone down on the bed before reaching up and slapping Cam’s elevated hand.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll snag your third tonight one of those at the house,” Cam speculated, pointing at Oliver’s two wristbands and spreading his hands.

Shrugging, Oliver made a dismissive noise, though secretly, he did kindle the spark of hope that maybe he would be fortunate enough to get another band and earn an opportunity to take Sersei out on a real date. At least right now that’s who he would choose amongst his band givers, Cerys kind of intimidated him a little with her alpha confidence and intensity.

With the ‘party’ still hours away, it seemed to Oliver as if time itself had gotten caught in the inexorable influence of a gravitational singularity and elongated, each ticking second feeling like it was being stretched into minutes or hours.

The usually sedate and mellow Cam busied himself prettifying and getting ready for the Omega Pi gathering by showering, shaving, and ‘manscaping’ his nether area while Oliver, who decided he would prep a little later watched on with an amused eye.

Leaning back on his bed, Oliver brought his phone to life and added Sersei’s number into his list of contacts, bringing the memory of her surprise kiss to the fore of his mind. The feeling, the taste making, his fevered imagination stir with all sorts of thoughts and feelings. Chuckling, he set his phone back down on the bed. If he did get another band, would she accept to go out with him? Or was this all just some kind of joke? If it all was some cruel sorority hoax meant to screw with the minds of horny freshman he was actually kind of glad Cam was going to be the one to test the proverbial waters. The events of the night ahead would reveal the truth of Omega Pi’s intentions.

A Night to Remember

Walking over to the Omega Pi house, Oliver and Cam paced themselves to arrive on time. Show up early, and you look too eager, arrive late, you seem irresponsible. Turning onto the street, it was quiet. Unlike the massive blowout at the Phi Epsilon Theta house, there was no loud blaring music or flashing lights, no mass of milling partygoers, just silence.

“Huh,” Cam said, shaking his head. “I thought for sure it was tonight,” he mumbled.

Nodding, Oliver clapped him on the shoulder, “It is, remember Sersei texted me too,” he assured.

Cam’s smile returned. Walking up the path to the front door, they ascended the stairs, he rapped on the door.

Sersei was the one to open the door, big smile on her face as she looked from Cam to Oliver. “Come in,” she invited, stepping back into the house and opening the door.

Moving into the grand house, “Shoes on or off?” Oliver asked, pointing at his feet.

“Off,” Sersei replied with a nod. Watching as both boys removed their footwear, when they were done she motioned for them to follow into the elegantly appointed house leading them to a large sitting room on the main floor near the rear of the house.

In the large room, ringed by oversized chairs and three couches were eight girls and including him and Cam, four boys. Oliver didn’t recognize one boy, but the other he knew instantly, the brutish Bear Briar.

Getting up off the long chesterfield and standing to full height, the hulking Bear Briar slowly moved his head from side to side like he was cracking his neck, unwholesome expression on his face, steely colored eyes boring into Oliver’s lighter green colored ones.

“Shit,” Cam mumbled, shaking his head

Sersei appeared, “Play nice boys,” she tittered.

“It’s all good,” Bear said, voice gravelly as he smiled at Oliver. “You got yourself one hell of a punch,” he stated with a deep raspy chuckle.

Oliver gave him a half smile and nodded, ready in case the brawnier youth lashed out, “No hard feelings?” he asked, hoping the bigger and hostile looking man was amenable to let bygones be bygones.

Bear laughed again, deeply, “Other than I still owe you a shot, we’re cool,” he said, holding his hands up.

“Good boy,” said a slight girl Oliver didn’t recognize, dirty blonde hair held bunched up by a hair band as she walked up and placed a hand on Bear’s shoulder.

“I think that’s everyone,” said another tall girl Oliver didn’t recognize. She introduced herself as Allie and went around the room allowing each person to identify themselves. The other girls unknown to Oliver, an athletic girl with strawberry blonde hair and luminous green eyes introduced herself as Julianna, the one with Bear Briar, Melody.

To Oliver’s surprise, Vesper came into the room, wide smile on her face.

Allie smiled and nodded, “For you lads who don’t know, this is Vesper, she’s our counselor, advisor, kind of house mother as it were, she’s just here to oversee the evening to make sure nothing gets too far out of hand,” Allie introduced.

Jaw hanging slack, Cam looked at Oliver, “That’s her? For real?” he whispered.

Nodding ever so slightly, Oliver smiled and winked.

Grinning, Cam rolled his eyes.

“Hi,” Vesper said, smiling and taking a seat on one of the wide chairs against the long wall, bringing the tally of people in the room to thirteen, nine females, four males.

“Alright,” Allie said, “Teagan? Monroe?” she added.

Two more girls appeared in the room, the first one, a dark haired beauty was handing out little 8oz red plastic party cups to everyone except Vesper. The second girl, a gorgeous heavy chested blonde was following with a large pitcher and pouring an amber colored liquid into the cups distributed by the first girl.

Smiling, “Wait until everyone has one,” Allie instructed holding up the hand without her cup until the two girls handing out the refreshments departed.

“Alright then, this toast is to our first trifecta of the season, Cameron Crawford,” she said, smiling while raising her cup and nodding to Cam.

The girls all raised their cups and spoke in unison, “To Cameron, long may he serve the needs and the wants of the sisters of Omega Pi.”

Smiling, Cam nodded and raised his own glass before bringing it to his mouth for a sip. The girls followed suit and Oliver brought his cup to his lips, inhaled an exotic enticing scent before taking a sip. It was sweet, kind of like a potent honey, but with a very strong undercurrent of alcohol in the after taste. It was good but powerful, the flavor lingering on his palate.

Allie smiled, “And to our other invited guests,” she saluted, nodding to the males in the room and then to Vesper before taking another drink from her cup.

Oliver took another sip, feeling a flush of warmth crawling up his neck and into his face as he swallowed.

Walking over to where Cam was sitting, Allie reached her free hand out and cradled his face, “Maybe you can share with us something about yourself?” she invited.

Clearing his throat, Cam chuckled, “Sure, I guess,” he said, glancing over to Oliver.

Bear leaned back and drained the fluid from his cup before holding it upside down to show it was empty.

“I’m a freshman here, my sister is Sersei,” he started, holding a hand toward her, “I feel very lucky and honored to have received these three bands. One each from Brooklynn,” he continued, nodding to the blonde, “Kandi,” to the redhead, “and Allie,” he concluded, shaking his head and clearing his throat again before taking another sip from his cup to clear the obvious tickle pestering him.

The warm feeling moved up into Oliver’s ears and Cam started sounding far away, distant. As hard as he tried, he found he just couldn’t keep his eyes open.

He thought he heard Bear Briar say something in a slurred voice, but he wasn’t sure as the warmth overwhelmed him and he succumbed to oblivion.

The Morning After, Oliver Awakens

The simple motion of trying to sit up wreaked havoc on Oliver’s internal gyro and made his stomach twist, threatening to empty itself. Pushing the sweat soaked blankets off his body, he noticed he was naked save for his boxer briefs as he swung legs off the bed. He was back in his room. Leaning forward and quelling the urge to projectile vomit, he held his pounding head a moment to steady the vertigo before looking over to Cam’s side of the room. It was bare. Frowning, Oliver puckered his face. All of Cameron’s belongings were gone. Everything, the clothes, the posters, everything, just gone, like it had never even been there. Even the bedsheets and pillows had been removed.

Summoning his strength, he lurched up onto his feet, rocking back and forth slightly to combat the waves of nausea rolling in his stomach. Where the heck was Cam? He tried to assemble the tattered bits and pieces of disjointed memory from last night into some sort of coherent sense. They had gone to Omega Pi, he remembered that distinctly. The room, the girls, Vesper, the drink and then nothing. Flashes. Light? Laughter, girls laughing. He had only been hammered drunk once before in his life at Aunt Lou’s two years back but this felt like ten thousand times worse.

Looking at his hands, he still had the pink bands on his right wrist. Needing to piss, he shambled toward the door, grabbing his housecoat and slipping it on over his shoulders before venturing out into the hall. Everything was quiet. What time was it? Early. At least it felt early. Using the wall to aid him, Oliver shuffled to the washroom and over to a bank of urinals, leaning his head against the glossy tiles before commencing to urinate. Closing his eyes, his head began to swim and he immediately snapped them back open. “Where the heck was Cam and why were all of his possessions gone?

Finished peeing, he ambled over to the counter with a half dozen sinks and washed his hands, looking at his bedraggled reflection in the mirror. Not only did he feel like crap, he looked dreadful, eyes bleary and bloodshot.

Leaning forward, he cupped water into his hands and splashed it on his face, hoping it would make him feel less like death.

Another dorm dweller walked in dressed in a robe, Tony or Antonio, Oliver couldn’t remember his name.

The youth grinned at him, “Dude, you like hammered shit, I mean seriously,” he chuckled, sliding by and moving toward the showers at the far end of the room.

Nodding, Oliver worked his way slowly back toward his room, his body manufacturing a thin sheen of perspiration all over as a reward for his effort. Why did he feel like he had been hit by a freight train?

Back in his room, he returned to his bed and sat down, putting a hand down to either side to steady himself and stop the room from twirling. Everything Cam owned was gone, he hadn’t imagined it. Was it a gaff, someone pulling some college humor style prank? Had he been roofied? Maybe something in the drink the girls gave him? No, if his memory was to be trusted, they all drank it too. What happened? How did he get back to the dorm? Where was Cam?

Smacking his lips together, he looked to his side of the room, spying his pants neatly folded on the chair and his shirt draped around the backrest. Someone had undressed him and put him to bed. Who? The digital clock on the stand beside his bed read 11:48. His phone was on his desk, though it hadn’t been plugged in through the night. Leaning forward, he took the device in hand, hoping there was still some a little juice left in it, at least enough to fire off a message or two. Pressing the button on the side, it came to life. Calling up Cam’s name, he typed ‘Where you at?’ and hit send before putting the phone back down.

Groaning, he rolled his eyes. He desperately needed a shower, something to try and invigorate him or at least to restore some of his energy. Releasing another pent up breath, he got back to his feet and shuffled toward where his clean towel blue bath towel was hanging. Grabbing it, he slung it over his shoulder before grabbing his soap dish and bottle of shampoo.

Finding an empty stall, Oliver turned on the water, the incessant patter of the spray against the tiles echoing loudly through his aching head as he hung up his towel and removed his robe. Stepping into the hot jet, he lowered his head, allowing the stream to douse him. It felt so amazingly good he tarried for nearly twenty minutes before shutting it off. He still felt gnarly, but at least it was more manageable. Toweling off, he returned to his room.

Wandering over to Cam’s vacant side of the room, he pulled open the drawers on the desk. All bare. The closet too was empty, not even a single hanger there. Frowning, he shook his head. Walking back to the door, he opened it and looked to the side of the frame at the tape with their names on it. Cam’s name gone. WTF?

Returning inside, he closed the door and spent a few minutes getting himself dressed. Picking up his phone again, he called up Sersei’s contact and texted her, ‘Something weird is going on, have you seen Cam?’ He kept the phone in his hand a minute, half expecting, half hoping she would respond expeditiously, but she didn’t. His stomach rumbled and then turned. Hungry and nauseous at the same time was not a pleasant sensation, but he knew he needed some fuel in the tank if he wanted to get better. Getting back to his feet, he turned up the ringtone on his phone and slipped into his hip pocket.

The closest place was probably Cup of Joe’s across the way where Cam had said he‘d run into Allie.

The Morning After, Cam Awakens

Rolling over on the uneven lumpy surface, Cam groaned loudly and cracked open his eyes, trying to focus his vision in the gloom as he pushed the scratchy woolen blanket off his aching body, an annoying high pitched hum ringing in his ears. Swinging his legs of a bed more that was more like a slab of sponge, he sat up, the texture of the floor under his feet slightly abrasive but at least it wasn’t cold.

Smacking his lips together, wherever here was wasn’t the dorm room he shared with Oliver which posed the question of where the hell was it?

Clearing his throat, “Hello?” he called out into the fairly dark featureless room.

Diffuse light came in from what looked like pot lights near the end of the room. Blinking, he scraped the sleep from the corners of his eyes, suddenly conscious of the fact he was completely naked. Glancing down, the front of his torso decorated with what appeared to be a huge Omega Pi symbol painted in bright borderline fluorescent pink from below his navel all the way to his collarbones. Reaching up, he touched the design on his chest, finding it thick and waxy, like a heavy greasepaint. He snickered, immediately thinking it reminded him of the texture of lipstick as he rubbed his thumb and fingers together. Chuckling softly, he looked up at the unfamiliar confines of the place he had awaken into.

The room around him was plain, essentially nothing more than a long and rectangular box, one end weakly lit, the other shrouded in shadow. There were no windows in the room. The walls were brownish in color, though it was hard to tell because of weak light creating casting a sepia like wash over the visible portions of the room. There was only the one sleeping platform he had awakened upon. Was this a room in the Omega Pi house? The basement maybe? Where was Oliver?

Yawning nosily, he closed his eyes and stretched his arms up over his head, trying to bring relief to his aching muscles and silence the war drum pounding in his head. He also need to take a leak.

He hoped to Christ he didn’t miss his chance to rail one of the girls by passing out, that would just piss him off. Allie, Kandi, or Brooklynn, hell they were all hot. What had happened? It was hazy. What could he remember? Drinking. The guy named Bear nodding out. Something else, some smell, like candle wax or paraffin. A flash of lying on the floor and looking up, surrounded by people whose faces he couldn’t see. What the hell?

Getting unsteadily to his feet, “Hello?” he called out again while reaching back to grab the scratchy blanket from the bed and drape it around his nakedness. There was no response. ”You got a can around here?” he asked, his voice sounded off in his ears. “Hello?”

Moving down toward the feeble illumination, “Strange,” he mumbled. Where the hell was this place? Drunk tank? “Oliver? Anybody? Hello-lo-lo,” he called making his own echo. He frowned, looking at the corner where there was what very much appeared to be two enormous looking novelty Oreo cookies, one leaning up against the wall, the other lying flat on the floor in front of it. Looking at them, he judged the diameter of the cookies were close to the same height as his chest, the width of the one on the floor almost to his knee. Moving toward the cookies, he was greeted by a sweet smell floating in the air, making his stomach rumble.  Standing next the cookie on the floor, he shook his head and laughed, the intricately patterned surfaced actually even said Oreo on it. Obviously someone had to tremendous effort to so closely duplicate the design at such a large scale.

Crouching down, he ran his fingers over the hard dark surface of the cookie. Reaching under the upper biscuit, he trailed his fingers over the white portion meant to be frosting, surprised when his fingers actually came away covered in icing. “What the deuce?” he murmured, bringing it close to his face and giving it a sniff. It smelled just like an Oreo cookie.

Standing up, he laughed, “Fuck off,” he said sticking out his tongue and tasting the substance on his fingers. Tasted like Oreo. “What is this, some kind of a dream? A pothead’s dream!” he chortled, sucking some more of the delicious mess off his fingers.

Fingers licked clean, he got low again and tried to nibble on the edge of the biscuit, successfully breaking off a small portion which he quickly devoured.

“Where in the world could you possibly even get cookies this big? Costco?” he said allowed, chortling and wiping his hands off on the blanket. Although his belly was now fully, urgency reminded him he still needed to pee.

This had to be the basement at Omega Pi, set up like one of those Shenanigan Nights type of mazes the university held annually. “Somebody is going to get her cute little bottom spanked when I find my way out of here,” he threatened playfully as he grinned into the darkness at the opposite end of the room.

Travelling slowly along the wall toward the dark end of the room as his eyes adjusted to the poor illumination, he made out a broad shape on the floor near the corner. Constructed out of hard plastic, it was a circular pool of water about waist high. A hot tub maybe? Very weird. Near it was a cylindrically shaped bucket covered by a piece of hard material with a circle cut out of the center of it. At the side were several pieces of coarse paper towel.

He laughed. “Are you for real? Like a one holer outhouse?” he asked out loud, shrugging off the blanket. “You asked for it,” he said, relieving himself in the pail.

Retrieving the blanket, he wrapped it over his shoulders again toga style and navigated along the opposite long wall, around the bed and back into the lit area of the room.

Standing there, he turned back to look into the room and frowned. There was no door.

Sersei’s Cover Story

Once at the coffee shop, Oliver got himself a large blueberry muffin and a steaming mug of black java before taking a seat at one of the empty outdoor patio tables fenced in around the front of Cup of Joe’s.

Pulling out his phone, there was a blinking green light in the upper left hand corner of his phone letting him know he had received a message. He hoped it was from Cam explaining what the heck was going on. Instead, it was from Sersie, asking if she could meet up with him. He replied and let her know where he was and she said she would come there in ten minutes.

Absently nibbling away at his muffin, he was lost in his own thought and didn’t see Sersei arrive.

Dressed in a pink Omega Pi shirt and black lululemons, blonde hair tied back, Sersei stood at the edge of his table and cleared her throat to get his attention.

Looking up, he smiled weakly at her, “Sorry I didn’t see you,” he offered, apologizing.

“Really?’ she asked, spreading her arms and doing a slow turn.

“Very nice,” he murmured, nodding appreciatively, instant regretting the motion as if made him feel nauseous.

Hands on hips, she chuckled, “Do you have any idea how haggard you look right now?” she queried amusedly, sliding into the seat across from him.

Manufacturing a feeble grin, “If it’s any consolation, I’m pretty sure I look better than I feel,” he replied, making her laugh softly.

“Poor Oliver,” she said, pouting.

“What the heck was in that drink last night because I was like blotto,” he inquired.

She chuckled again, “Omega Pi secret,” she said, making her already large blue eyes rounder and touching her finger to her smiling lips.

“Whatever it was, man, like moonshine or something,” he commented, taking a drink of coffee.

“I don’t know, I had some and I feel positively amazing. Maybe you’re just a lightweight,” she accused jokingly.

“True story, I’ve never been much of a drinker,” he conceded. Shifting gears, “I woke up this morning and all of Cam’s stuff was gone,” he commented.

Frowning, she nodded, “He had to return home to take care of an obligation for our mother,” she explained.

“But his side of the room is completely cleared out, like everything,” Oliver said.

“Cam had to leave in a hurry and has actually withdrawn from school to be able fulfill the commitment,” she shared, shaking her head slowly.

Oliver frowned, “Well that sucks. He didn’t even say goodbye,” he lamented, sharing hurt feelings.

Reaching out, Sersei patted Oliver on the back of his hand, “Don’t worry I’m positive you’re going to see him much sooner than later,” she consoled, tilting her head slightly and giving him a reassuring smile.

“Who packed?”

“Me and a few of the other sisters helped us gather up his stuff,” she replied.

“While I was there?”

“Dead to the world, like literally a motionless log. You are lucky we were in a hurry because if we had Sharpie’s or a razor,” she chided mirthfully, leaving the rest unsaid.

Oliver tapped his phone, “He didn’t even shoot me a text,” he said.

Sersei pulled out her phone and checked the time. “Right about now he should be landing at SeaTac so my guess is his phone is probably still on airplane mode,” she suggested.

Oliver nodded, that made sense, his phone chimed. Picking it up, it was a message from his absent roommate, “Cam,” he said, swiping the screen and reading the message:

‘Hey Ollie, sorry to just up and leave you on such short notice. Unfortunately there was no other option. I have to take care of a few things and will be out of touch for a while but don’t worry, we’ll get together soon and have a little fun!’

“Speak of the devil,” Sersei chuckled, “and talk about odd timing, so weird,” she added.

Still staring at the device in his hand, Oliver frowned before shaking his head. While the message had definitely come from Cam’s phone, in his gut he knew there was no way this message came from Cam himself. Cam never called him Ollie. Why would Sersei lie about it? Who would pretend to send a message on Cam’s behalf and for what reason? He contemplated. Did Cam do something crazy last night while under the influence of the liquor and they’re trying to keep things hush hush? The more he thought about, the more feasible the explanation seemed to be. What else could it be? If Cam fucked up royally and got himself arrested or something, after all weed was legal in Washington but not here, maybe the family stepped in to avoid some legal entanglement with a potential public relations nightmare? Maybe that’s why Sersei’s demeanor seemed pretty nonchalant. Cam was a bit of a wild card. Did he go too far with one of the girls last night and get himself in over his head? Sersei seemed far too calm for that. For all his talk, Cam wasn’t too much of a rowdy, so he doubted his roommate went on some type of rampage. Plus if it had been it would be all over campus by now, no if it involved the law, it had to be the weed.

Looking up, Oliver smiled, “I hope everything is alright,” he said, giving her an inquisitive look in the hopes maybe she might divulge more about what was going on.

A sparkle appeared in her eye, “With Cam currently attending the obligation, I’m sure he’ll turn it into something small and much more manageable,” she expressed, grinning.

“That’s good,” he agreed. “I know I haven’t been friends with Cam long, but I think we kind of hit it off, so if there’s anything I can do to help, even something small, just let me know,” he offered, tone genuine.

 The grin on her face turned Cheshire, “I’ll remember that,” she said, touching his hand again before getting to her feet. “I’ll chat with you some more later,” she said with a nod.

Oliver nodded in return, watching as she drifted away. Still feeling like crap, he brought the cup to his lips and took another sip. At least he had a theory that helped put matters into a semblance of context.

Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff

Circumnavigating the interior of the room for a second time, Cam carefully checked for latches or hidden catches that might spring open a door, but again found nothing in the mostly featureless room. The walls all seemed to be constructed from the same moderately coarse texture as the floor and there were no seams cracks or otherwise to indicate the presence of a portal or means out of the room. Very weird. Add in the fact, he was still feeling off and the Oreo in his stomach was making him queasy.

What was going on? Was it Sersei’s doing or some trick of the Omega Pi sisters? He glanced down at his wrist and saw the bands were gone. That had to be it, something to do with the wristbands, why else would they have removed them? This whole thing was probably some scheme of Sersei’s to teach him a lesson. He thought he had been doing an amazing job of trying to get her endorsement, but maybe she had just been cunningly playing him.

He chuckled, “Nicely played,” he said aloud, bowing his head, “I defer to your superior intellect.” No response. Frowning, he raised his head. How long were they planning on keeping him in the basement with the giant freaking Oreo? For what surely felt like almost an hour, he paced back and forth.

Maybe because he was still hungover and feeling sick, his tolerance for the game was thinning and he was becoming more annoyed. Holding the blanket in place with his elbows, he cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey!” he yelled, adding, “Ha ha very funny.” He wasn’t sure what to expect, but there was nothing. “You can open the door now,” he barked loudly. No response. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? I get it, you outwitted me, you win,” he conceded, face a mask of irritation. Still nothing.

Muttering under his breath, “Fuck it,” he curled back up on the sponge bed and tried to sleep. Flipping around trying to get comfortable, eventually fatigue allowed him to fall asleep.

It was voices that roused him, loud and close. He distinctly recognized three of them, Sersei’s, Brooklynn’s, and Allie’s. Rising from the bed, he wrapped the blanket back around his body.

“I’m pretty sure he should be awake by now,” Sersei said.

“I’m excited,” Brooklynn interjected.

Allie chuckled, “Let’s have us a look see shall we?” she said.

The ground beneath his feet moved suddenly and he was thrown to the ground in a jumbled heap. When the whole room stopped moving, the ceiling above him shifted and was pulled away. Far above him the massive heads of the girls he had heard speaking moved into view above the edge of the top of the wall. They were all preposterously huge, like each girl appeared easily over a hundred feet tall, all looking down on him with amused expressions and large eyes.

“What’s going on?” he asked, feeling overwhelmed and incredibly small under the scrutiny of the enormous girls.

“Look how cute he is!” Brooklynn squealed, bringing her hands together in front of her chest, unleashing a wide beaming smile on her gorgeous but inexplicably huge face, a smile certainly wider than he was tall.

Chuckling, Sersei looked at him nodded, “You are so adorable little brother,” she admitted, smiling.

“Hello again Cameron,” Allie said with a smile.

“What’s happening?” he babbled, pulling the blanket tighter around himself and gobbling for air.

Another voice came from somewhere beyond his ability to see. “Is he awake?” It was Kandi, the redheaded stripper. Brooklynn shuffled to the side to the side and Kandi’s gigantic face came into view.

Was he hallucinating? Some by product of the hooch the girls had provided? Had it been laced with something? It all seemed so incredibly vivid and real.

“I suppose there a whole bunch of questions bouncing around inside your tiny head right about now?” Allie asked.

“I don’t know what’s going on. Why do you all seem so big?” he replied, unable to find refuge or shelter from their gazes.

Sersei chuckled and exchanged glances with the other girls before speaking, “Okay, so let me be the one who clues you in to your new life,” she offered.

“Sersei?”

“First things first, we’re not big, you’re just very small,” she said, leaning forward and moving her right hand into the box, her index finger nearly twice as long as he was tall.

Cam looked at the finger, shaking his head in disbelief before looking back up at his sister. “No,” he denied.

Making a glum face, Sersei nodded, “Afraid so,” she asserted.

“It can’t be,” he rejected, unable to come to terms with the input his senses were sending to his brain.

“The sooner you accept your new position, the sooner you will be able to move forward,” Allie instructed.

“What Allie is saying is that you are now property of the sisters of Omega Pi. You belong to all of us,” she informed with a smile.

Still shaking his head, “What does that mean?” he inquired.

Kandi rolled her eyes, “Think of it this way. You a like a little toy that we can all enjoy, though Brooklynn, Allie and myself have first dibs on account of you accepting our favors,” she added.

“The wristbands?” he asked, looking back to the bare spot on his arm then up to the gargantuan redhead.

“That’s right,” Brooklynn said with an affirmative nod of her blonde head.

He laughed, not jocular, more nervous anxiety as he shifted his gaze back to Sersei, “You need to tell mother what’s happened,” he requested.

“She already knows, I texted her last night,” replied his sister.

“She knows?”

“Knows? Ah, poor Cam. You don’t understand. Mother sent you here specifically for this exact reason, as a delicious little gift to the sorority, a tribute to the sisterhood,” Sersei replied, raising her eyebrows before looking at the blonde Brooklynn and nodding.

Still chuckling, he looked back to the bed and started walking toward it, “No,” he mumbled, mind surrendering to denial.

Shifting her weight forward, Brooklynn reached into the box with her right hand, tapping the brightly painted nail at the end of her index against the floor, “Come,” she invited in a friendly tone.

Ignoring the summons, Cam climbed onto the bed, wrapping the blanket tightly around him and screwing his eyes shut. It had to just be a bad dream.

Back to Work

Getting some food in his belly and moving around, Oliver felt the queasiness begin to subside more rapidly and he actually started feeling quasi human again.

Being Monday, he was due to work for Vesper later in the afternoon, so he returned to his dorm and grabbed a couple more hours of shut off to quell the last of the hangover.

When he awoke, he was actually feeling not too bad. He’d left himself enough time to catch the bus and get to the shop.

Stepping through the door, Oliver was greeted by a smiling Vesper. His vague recollection was she had passed on the cocktail shared by the sisters.

“There you are,” she welcomed with a mischievous smile, “after your condition last night I wasn’t sure you were going to be able to come in to work today,” she shared.

Smiling, he nodded at her, “I’m a glutton for punishment,” he said, eyes roaming quickly over her body and seeing the pair of faded jeans and utilitarian white blouse she was wearing.

She laughed out loud, “How very fortunate for you then,” she replied.

“I didn’t know you were still with the sorority, I mean you mentioned you had been with them, but I didn’t that meant still,” he said, slipping on the white apron over his head.

“There are a great many things you’ve yet to discover young man. The world is full of wonderful and terrible experiences,” she retorted with a cheeky grin.

She seemed in a good mood making him think perhaps she was an amenable to conversation, “Pretty wild thing about Cam hey?” he asked.

“Oh?” she queried, looking ravishing as she adopted an innocent look on her marvelous face.

He gave her a sidelong glance, crooked smile on his face, “Come on now, surely you must know what has happened?” he inquiring, fishing while fastening the cloth straps of the apron behind his back.

Moving in very close to him, her eyes alive, “I know exactly what happened to him, I’m just not so sure you do,” she countered with an oddly ominous sounding chuckle. “You might just be probing me, fishing for inside information.”

So she did know! “I met up with Sersei earlier today and she gave me the low down on her brother,” he answered, grinning.

“And what pray tell was it she said that has you all a-tizzy then?” Vesper queried, placing her hands on his shoulders and holding his eyes with her own.

Her presence was making him mildly uncomfortable, “That he had to go home to deal with a familial obligation,” he answered, looking away.

Smiling, she removed her hands from him, left hand grazing lightly against his cheek, “I suppose that is one way to categorize it,” she replied cryptically before turning away.

Oliver shook his head. He knew she had done that on purpose, got up close to him because she knew it threw him off. Grinning off the side of his face, she may have graduated ages ago, but she was still Omega Pi through and through. “How about you share with me the way you might categorize it?” he asked.

Turning to look back at him over her shoulder, she arched an eyebrow and smiled, “You know what curiosity did to the cat?” she teased playfully.

“But satisfaction,” he started.

“Put the poor thing in dire peril twice as fast,” she interrupted, light green eyes glinting with an element of mystery.

What was her game? Stepping out of his comfort zone, he moved close to her, “You can tell me,” he invited.

Smile widening, she turned and pressed her body into him, breasts mashed against his chest, “Look at you, brave little soul that you are,” she purred, draping her arms around his neck.

He could feel his body stirring, responding to her proximity, her scent, her magnetism. Swallowing hard, he nodded. It took every ounce of willpower he could muster to not look away from her eyes. “What happened to Cam?’ he asked, voice catching.

Leaning forward, mouth next to his ear, “He went home,” she whispered, breath hot in his ear before she captured his ear lobe in her teeth and gave it a little nip and then broke away from him, eyes drifting down to his crotch then back to his face.

Oh yeah, there was no doubt in his mind she had felt his turgid muscle straining against the front of his Levi’s.

Color rising to his cheeks, he coughed and turned away.

Looking toward the ceiling, “You are so decadently sweet,” she chuckled amusedly before bringing her head back down to look at him with smoldering jade colored eyes.

“Pure cane sugar, borderline diabetic,” he retorted, trying to mentally will his erection back into flaccidity.

“My poor sweet tooth,” she lamented with an exaggerated pout, “you’d probably give me a cavity.”

Oliver just chuckled awkwardly and nodded, the moment between them dissipating though the erection in his trousers was a full on rager.

“Anyway,” she started, pausing and pointing to the wooden pallet stacked with boxes near the back door, “those will all need to properly stored and inventoried,” she said.

“Yep, I will take care of it,” he replied without bothering to look up at her.

She lingered a moment, eyes roving over the boy, the expression on her lovely face curious.

Busying himself with work helped banish the remnants of his hangover. Finishing his shift, Vesper saw him off with a playful wave.

Riding the bus back, he checked his phone, wondering if there were any further communications from Cam’s phone, whether Cam himself or whomever was hanging onto it. Nothing. Back up in the dorm, the vacant side of the room left him with a sense of emptiness, loss almost. He hoped whatever the situation was surrounding Cam that the lad was alright.

Laying on his side, he looked across at Cam’s stripped bed. He didn’t presume to think the university would allow him to fly solo for the semester when space was at such a premium so anticipated he would be getting a new roommate more than likely sooner than later, probably next day or two. He doubted he would be lucky enough to get someone else as good as Cam, but remained optimistic.

A Brooklynn Dodger            

Despite tightly clutching the blanket in his hands and hiding his head, Cam could do nothing as Brooklynn peeled it away from him effortlessly, exposing his naked body curled into a fetal position.

“Come on little Cam,” she coaxed, curling her fingers around his tiny body and lifting him out of the box.

Contained in her hand, Cam’s eyes were wide, the white visible around the iris as his mouth opened and closed with no audible sound coming out.

“This is always my favorite moment,” Allie said with a chuckle, “that look right there, where you can tell they are trying to figure it out and they can’t quite wrap their little heads around it.”

Sersei chuckled, “Not my favorite moment,” she cooed seductively, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

Finding his voice, “Help!” Cam screamed, suddenly becoming extremely animated and fighting against Brooklynn’s restraining fingers as the girl stood up.

“Hush now,” Sersei scolded, wagging a finger at her diminutive brother as Brooklynn secured her hold on the writhing little youth.

Seeing her face and recognizing her, “Sersei!” he said desperately.

“Cam!” she replied, mocking his tone and facial expression.

“What’s happening?” he asked.

Sersei looked at the blonde haired Brooklynn, “I’ll try to explain it to him one more time,” she offered.

Brooklynn nodded, moving her hand nearer to Sersei.

“Cam, listen,” she started, speaking slowly as she might to a child, “you belong to the sisters now. This is your new life from now on, your new home,” she finished. “You should be grateful Brooklynn has you and not Cerys.”

He thrashed in Brooklynn’s hand, struggling to try and free himself despite the fact from his perspective he was dangerously high in the air.

“Mmm, save some of that energetic wiggling for later precious,” Brooklynn purred, tightening her fingers around him.

Shaking her head, Sersei shrugged her shoulders.

Kandi giggled and tussled the hair on his head, “I’ll see you later sugar,” she purred.

As Brooklynn was exiting the room, Cam could hear the other girls joking and laughing, like it was amusing. It made zero sense. It could not be, just couldn’t. The swinging motion of Brooklynn’s arm as she walked made his stomach flop and he felt queasy, tasting Oreo cookie in the back of his throat.

Humming to herself, Brooklynn moved down the hall and into a room. He tried as best he could to try and orient the layout of the house. Someway, somehow, he knew he had to get away.

Crossing the room, she set him down on the neatly made bed atop a plush blanket and white blanket with Marilyn Monroe’s face on it.

Pushing himself up to standing, feet sinking to his ankle in the pile of the blanket, he swallowed hard.

“What do you think?” she asked, spreading her hands to indicate the room.

Glancing about, the room had a definite girly girl kind of feel. “What happens now?” he asked, voice quaver as he tried to control the dread clawing at the back of his brain.

Eyes brightening, “Well you and I are going to get to know one another a little better,” she replied, winking as she pulled the t-shirt she was wearing up over her head and tossing it toward a wicker hamper near the wall. Next, she tucked her thumbs into her pants and wiggled herself out of them before picking them up and throwing them to the same place as the shirt. She was wearing matching light blue bra and panties. Trailing her finger up her lean athletic stomach, she grinned down at the little person standing near the edge of the blanket.

What was she doing? Why was she getting naked? She was so big. What did she mean by play? Oh god how? While she was beautiful, her sheer size intimidated him and he staggered backward away from her. “Brooklynn, please,” Cam said, shaking his head getting the idea of where this situation might be going. She couldn’t possibly be serious, could she?

Walking to her high dresser, she mounted her iPod in the docking station and brought it to life, the opening chords to John Cougar’s Hurt So Good belting out of the two speakers on either side of the dock on the top of her dresser.

Turning back toward the bed, she pulled the tie from her long hair and shook out her blonde locks and started clapping her hands and dancing in time with the music. “I knew that day I saw you on the stairs I would have to play with you,” she growled playfully, hips swaying from side to side as she moved close to the bed.

“No,” he pleaded, his little voice lost in the song.

Once the vocals had begun, she starting bouncing on the balls of her feet and pointing in his direction while singing along with the lyrics, her hair flying about.

Swallowing hard as he tried to control the panic rising in his gut, Cam stumbled backward before turning and starting to run across the bed, strides leaving tiny little footprints in the plush blanket. Arms pumping, legs churning he ran, he didn’t dare look back.

Over the blare of the music, he didn’t hear her move, instead, the force of her body crashing on the bed threw him up into the air, the momentum of his own motion pitching him forward as the distance between him and the bed grew. Her outstretched right hand snatched him deftly out of the air, as she rolled onto her back, face split by a huge grin, “Got you!” she exclaimed triumphantly holding him almost at arm’s length above her.

“Brooklynn, no,” he wheezed around the fingers holding him tightly over her body.

Licking her bottom lip, she giggled and suddenly rolled onto her front, bringing him down between both hands and cradling him in front of her face, “Ready?’ she asked, eyes alight.

Shaking his head frantically, he pushed against her hands.

Still holding him in her right hand, she pushed herself up onto her knees with her left hand and dropped him back on the bed in the valley between her thighs.

On his feet, back to her body, he ran, trying to get to the space beyond her knees.

Bringing her right hand down over him, she pressed him down into the bed, the force crushing him into the thick material of the blanket and driving the air from his lungs as she unfastened her bra with her free hand. Leaning forward, she shifted the elastic of her panties down across her hips, slinking out of them while still keeping him pinned. Completely nude, now it was time to play.

Things to do while in Brooklynn

“Quit squirming,” Brooklynn urged with a chuckle, Cam under her hand and frantically but futile trying to get out from under it.

Sweat pouring from his body from exertion, Cam realized it was no use, Brooklynn was just far too powerful. Panting, he lay immobile as she curled her fingers around his body.

Lifting him up off the bed, she turned her hand and opened it, him on his back in the palm.

She was immense and naked, the glimmer in her eyes spoke volumes of what was to come. “Please,” he said, his own eyes wide with undisguised fear.

Bringing him closer to her face, her massive lips parted. He felt her warm exhalation roll over him as she kissed his chest, his thighs, huge soft lips molding around his body. “Mmm,” you taste good,” she said, lowering her hand.

Raising a hand defensively, “Brooklynn,” he said, the lipstick on his chest slightly smeared.

“Cam,” she replied smiling. Puckering her lips, she drooled a line of saliva from her mouth down onto his body, the viscous warm slobber coating him from knees to chest before cupping him against her right breast, the rubbery flesh pliant and slightly abrasive against him as she used his body to tease the erect nipple. Initially, he went rigid, trying to fight back against the swell of her excited protuberance.

Next, she moved him down her spectacular body, pressing him into the folds of her heated pussy. This time, he tried not to resist, going limp and trying to find the path of least resistance as she guided his legs into the opening in her body. The silky slick flesh parted around, rolling over his calves, his thighs. Her scent, while not unpleasant was overwhelming, the heady aroma filling his senses with every intake of air so that all he could taste was her.

“Ahhh,” she moaned, the force of her fingers inexorably shoving him deeper into the well of her femininity, over his hips and passed his chest, leaving only his head, left arm and shoulder free.

The pressure within the corrugated folds of her vagina was crushing, the dense tissue bearing down on him and making it hard to breathe. He tried to take as big a lungful of air as possible in anticipation of being completely devoured by her sex, except she moved her fingers off him, the tips dancing lightly up to the nub peering out from the retracted hood protecting her clitoris.

“Now you can squirm,” she cooed, voice throaty, as her fingers moved in slow lazy circles directly above him, the contractions of her Kegels trying to suck him into her pussy.

In an effort to liberate his right hand, he grabbed a handful of the flesh with his left hand and tried to twist his body, but to no avail, he was just too small.

Feeling him, she giggled.

He could feel the ripple of her mirth through the flesh constraining him, it was impossible to try and pull himself free, if anything his efforts were having the opposite effect and pulling him deeper inside. Desperately, he tried to capture a piece of flesh, feebly catching a fold, anything to prevent himself from being swallowed by the rising tide of her rapacious desire.

Despite his bravado with Oliver, Cam’s experience with girls was even less than his roommate’s and he was being given a crash course in the power of female ardor. He watched helplessly as the gigantic blonde continued to play with herself, the muscles holding him undulating in response to her touches.

The flesh smothering his body seemed to get hotter, her breathing shallower.

The effort of trying to prevent being consumed was rapidly depleting his strength, the muscles in his left arm trembling and aching in protest. He didn’t know how much longer he could sustain his tenuous grasp. If he let go, he suspected he would probably die inside this girl who was losing herself to bliss.

Her motions grew quicker, more vigorous causing the flesh around him to move erratically.

“So close,” she gasped, stroking her flesh faster and faster until finally, “I’m…going…to…COME!” she screamed in ecstasy, the force of her orgasm causing the walls of her vagina to squeeze him mercilessly, again and again, driving the air from his lungs before slamming into him again before he had a chance to refill them. Milky, almost pearlescent fluid seeped out of her and around his body. Her come. It was thick, slightly tacky as she continued to shudder under the power of her release.

A hapless passenger of her passion, all he could do was grit his teeth and try to wait it out

“Oh my god that was absolutely delicious,” she groaned, flesh still experiencing tremors of post orgasmic delight.

Cam released his hold, arm essentially dead, fingers aching and unable to straighten. For the moment he had survived. The relief was short lived as he contemplated what might happen next. How long were they going to keep him like this? She could easily have pushed up inside of herself. What then? Why wasn’t Sersei helping?

Brooklynn shifted her position, leaning forward to look at the tiny little thing still embedded inside the groove of her pubis.

The motion of her movement tugged at him, though now with less force as the swollen tightness around seemed to be diminishing.

Trailing a finger through her climatic secretion on his chest and dragging it up to his head, “Taste the fruit of your labor little one,” she invited, dabbing the pad of her finger against his face. He had no choice, the froth filling his mouth and sliding down his throat until he started choking.

Chuckling, she brought her finger up to her own mouth and licked it clean, luxuriating in the taste. Reaching back down between her legs, she captured his exposed arm between her thumb and forefinger, pulling gently to extract him from her pussy, the flesh reluctantly parting with his body as he slid free and she brought him up and released him onto her perspiration slick stomach.

Twisting his body, he looked up at her through the valley between her breasts. His legs felt weak and he felt depleted.

“I don’t know about you, but I could certainly go for another round,” she said, tongue tucked into the corner of the grin on her sensuous mouth.

Late Night Visit                                                                                                                                   

“Knock, knock,” Oliver heard, recognizing Sersei’s voice from the other side of the door moments before it swung inward into the room. As usual she was looking utterly fantastic dressed in snug black jeans and a tight Bahama blue colored blouse accentuating her large perfect shaped breasts, hair swept back of her angelic face.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he sat up and grinned at her, though the expression slipped when he spied another girl he didn’t know on Sersei’s heels. The accompanying young woman appeared young, maybe his age, freshman maybe. Her hair was a light brown, pulled back into a pony tail high on the back of her head save for a lock to either side of her face. She was wearing black yoga pants, a white and pink Omega Pi shirt. There was a flash of bright pink from a band at your wrist. As with pretty much all of the Omega Pi females he had met, she was very comely.

“Oh sorry, Oliver this is one of our pledges, Harmony,” Sersei introduced, stepping aside and presenting the unknown young woman. “Harmony, meet Oliver Haynes,” she said, completing the intro.

The girl smiled shyly and nodded her pretty head, “Nice to meet you,” she said, a southern lilt accenting her sweet voice as she toyed with one of the loose strands of her long hair.

“Um, hi,” Oliver said, rising to his feet and stepping toward the two girls, hand extended.

Harmony took his large hand in her tinier delicate one, giving it a small shake before releasing it and looking away demurely.

“I didn’t know you were coming by, what time is it?” Oliver asked, glancing back toward the table beside his bed to look at the clock. Had he locked the door? He couldn’t remember. It was almost ten o’clock.

“I know it’s late, sorry, I got a concerned message from Cam asking me to make sure I didn’t forget his Seahawk jersey,” she explained rolling her eyes in annoyance.

Oliver shook his head, “I haven’t seen it, but I haven’t gone through the drawers though,” he explained.

“I’m pretty sure I packed it when we boxed up his stuff, borderline positive, but he asked me to check anyway, so here I am,” she chuckled and spread her hands.

“How is Cam?” Oliver asked, running a hand over his slightly ruffled hair, stifling a yawn but unable to keep from squinting his eyes.

Sersei chuckled. Cam was still with the fitness bunny Brooklynn. “I’m guessing right about now he’s still in a little over his head but he should be fitting in nicely in short order,” she replied. While she couldn’t wait to take Oliver, she knew she shouldn’t rush it. She could easily instruct Harmony to offer Oliver her wristband and close the circle, but she wanted to delay his subjugation and savor the game. Besides, Bear Briar had just received his set of wristbands and would be collected within the next couple of days.

“That’s good,” he replied absently, knuckling his eyes before getting to his feet and crossing the room to Cam’s dresser. Checking the drawers and closet, there was no trace of the jersey.

Turning to Harmony, “Well I suppose we should quit ourselves of Oliver here and be about our business,” Sersei suggested, giving her shoulders a slight shrug causing her breast to bounce nicely.

Not finished searching, “What about Cam’s jersey? Isn’t that what you came looking for?” he inquired, arching an eyebrow and spreading his hands in askance.

Sersei walked over to him, big blue eyes looking at him through long lashes, “Oh Oliver, you are incredibly sweet, but without the semblance of a plausible reason for Harmony and I to come over here, a girl‘s motivation might look somewhat suspect,” she replied, tone oozing mysterious promise as she reached up and caressed his cheek.

Motivations? It took him a moment, then he chuckled. Vesper had called him sweet too.

Removing her hand, Sersei chuckled and glanced over at Harmony. “Did I tell you or what?” she asked.

Harmony nodded, a touch of crimson coloring the unblemished skin of her cheeks.

“What?” Oliver asked, smiling in curiosity, looking back and forth between the girls for a possible explanation.

“Nothing,” Sersei replied, Cheshire grin on her too pretty face as she regarded him with mischief in her eyes.

Grinning what he figured was probably foolishly, Oliver knew without a shadow of a doubt she was messing with his head again, and right now, looking the way she did, he was perfectly okay with it.

“I guess it’s time for us to leave and leave you be. I’m sure we’ll be seeing you,” Sersei said, leaning forward and planting a light kiss on his lips. “Sooner than later,” she added, before moving to the door, Harmony falling in behind, waving shyly, “It was very nice to meet you,” she said softly before the pair exited the room.

Though Oliver found the timing of the visit a little odd, he was very glad that she had come. Part of him had thought with Cam now gone, he might not see her again and he desperately that would not be the case. He could feel himself falling more and more for her, or as Cam might say, ‘Tighter and tighter around her little finger.’”

Locking the door behind the girls, he kicked back on his bed, left leg crossed over his knee as he examined the bands encircling his wrist. Her seeming lack of concern in relation to her brother or the situation that pulled him away reassured him that it was probably something small and manageable as she had said.

With no roommate to worry about, the hint of Sersei and her companion’s fragrance lingering in the room, Oliver grabbed a few Kleenexes from the box from the table beside his bed and decided he was going to take matters into his own hands for the time being.

A Place to Crash for the Night in Brooklynn                

When Brooklynn said she wanted to go again, Cam’s heart sank.

Plucking him off her body, she set him on the blanket between herself and where the bed abutted the wall before rolling on her side toward the nightstand, back to him.

Cam struggled to his feet. Knees weak and shaky coupled with Brooklynn’s movement made it impossible for him to remain standing and he was dropped back to the bed.

When she rolled supine onto her back, she was holding a phallic shaped silicon sex toy easily triple his height and a length of something clear that resembled packing tape in one hand. “A girl’s best friend,” she chuckled, showing it him.

He had watched all sorts of porn and had seen dildos before, but from his diminished perspective, this thing looked positively mammoth. The tip an electric neon pink surrendering along its ridged and rippled length to clear near the base, swaying back and forth. There appeared to be a groove along the upper side of the ‘head’ of the toy. Cam shook his head slowly back and forth,

“You look perplexed,” Brooklynn commented with an amused chuckle.

“I don’t, I don’t see how,” he said shaking his head.

Turning the toy in her hand, she pointed to the depression, “That’s where you fit in,” she said.

“What?”

Big smile on her face, she shifted onto her side, facing him, setting the toy next to him. “Of course we’ll need to make sure you can breathe,” she assured.

Cam remain still, brain numbed. She intended to tie him to that monstrosity? And use it on herself? “No,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

She next held up one of those flexible little straws you sometimes see on the side of juice boxes.

Did she really mean to use him this way? Before he had time to contemplate an answer, she provided one, picking him up and aligning the straw before wrapping the plastic around him and binding him to the silicon plaything.

Grinning she examined her handiwork, “This is going to be so much fun,” she purred.

Struggling against the plastic wrap holding him in place, all Cam could do was frantically move his head, fixing her with a glower.

“You look so cute,” she praised, touching his forehead lightly with her left index finger before lowering the toy down, the tip parting the petals of her outer lips. Letting out a contented sigh, she slowly fed the toy into her slippery vagina, the hot pink flesh parting around it and molding over him as he was enveloped. Unable to do anything other than yell as he was swallowed by her pussy, Cam gasped for air and closed his eyes.

Working the sizeable toy into her groove, Brooklynn moved deliberately slow, easing the pleasure giving device into her up to its flared base, relishing the sensation of fullness.

Drawing it back slowly, she could feel the irregular shape of Cam’s bound form along the fluted folds inside her, sending little shivers of delicious pleasure through her body. Back and forth she worked him, the action making a squelching sound with juice spilling out of her vagina and over the skin of her perineum and puckered anus. Angling her hips to facilitate maximum penetration, she strummed the fingers of her free hand over the hyper excited flesh of her fully engorged clit. She could feel her heart beginning to race, flesh starting to tremble as her breath caught in her throat and perspiration appeared all over her magnificent nude body. Faster and faster she thrust the dildo into her vagina, impaling herself. The threshold of no return had been passed and it was only a matter of moments before she was going to climax.

Releasing the dildo and leaving it deeply planted in her pussy, she brought that hand up and kneaded her breast while she continued abuse her aching clit with her other hand.

With a sharp intake of breath, she came, a moan of blissful ecstasy escaping her parted lips as she bucked in orgasmic release.

Inside, even with the aid of the straw Cam could hardly breathe, choking on the gush of fluid inside her spasming pussy as her vaginal muscles clenched down mercilessly on him. He thought for sure he would pass out from the tremendous crushing force and when he didn’t he wished he would have. He didn’t know how long he was up inside her, each humid heated taste of air of her, he felt himself being extracted, gasping and sputtering once in fresh air.

Brooklynn sat upright, shaky hands removing the plastic wrap around Cam.

With his hands free, Cam quickly brought them up to his face, trying to clear the gooey fluid from his face. His efforts were disrupted when she took him by the right leg and lifted him over her face, mouth open, tongue extended and lowered him inside.

Cleaning his body, she maneuvered him toward the front of her mouth, lips parting as she pushed his upper body out face up and clamped her pearly white teeth down on his chest, holding him securely.

Scooting off the now unkempt bed, she crossed the floor and plucked a vibrant green housecoat off a hook, slipping it around her body before exiting the room.

Making her way down the hall to the bathroom, him still protruding from her lips, she made her way into a toilet stall and sat down to pee, letting out a sigh around him as she emptied her bladder

“Brooklynn,” he croaked, fighting the teeth to try and free an arm.

Finished, she dabbed and flushed before getting up going to the counter with three sinks in it.

Blinking, Cam saw a dark haired girl walk in, Teagan he thought her name was, the one who had handed him the cup.

Spying the captive in Brooklynn’s teeth, “Oh my god, is that him?  He is so cute!” Teagan cooed, big eyes bright, nibbling on the nail at the end of her left thumb as she looked at him.

Tilting her head forward, Brooklynn drooled him out into the palm of her hand.

“Did you?” Teagan asked.

“Uh huh,” confirmed the blonde.

“Ooh, I’m so jealous,” she pouted.

“Kandi, Allie, then you if you want,” Brooklynn offered.

Teagan nodded, licking her lower lip.

“I’ll pass it on,” Brooklynn said, setting Cam down on the countertop.

Teagan leaned forward against the counter, towering over him as the blonde girl washed her hands.

Wobbling unsteadily on weak legs, Cam remain as still as possible, the sheer size of the girls looming up over him intimidating him. The thought of being passed around like a little plaything filled him with a sense of dread.

“Little Cam has had a big day, so I thinkit’s time to tuck him in for the night,” Brooklynn stated, drying her hands and picking him up.

“Sleep tight Cam,” Teagan purred.

“Goodnight,” Brooklynn replied.

Back in the room, she divested herself of the housecoat, hanging it back up and taking out a fresh pair of panties from her dresser, an emerald green lacey pair adorned with a matching decorative bow on the front. Putting him back in her mouth, she pulled on the panties and positioned him behind the bow and against the delicate flesh of her privates. With him in place, she climbed into bed and turned in for the night.

A Call from Out of the Blue

Although on silent, the sound of Oliver’s phone vibrating on his nightstand pulled him from his slumber. Rolling to his side, he looked at it and frowned. The call was from Stan, his stepdad.

Swiping the green arrow, he held it to his ear, “Hello?”

“Oliver, how you holding up son?” Stan asked.

“Pretty good,” he replied, yawning.

”Hey, sorry. Did I wake you?”

“It’s okay,” Oliver answered, looking at the clock.

“So the reason I’m calling, and before you say it, I know it’s going to sound a little out of character and odd, but your mother was acting out of sorts last night,” he said

“Out of sorts? Is she alright?” Oliver inquired pulling himself into a seated position.

Stan chuckled, “She’s fine, still sleeping. She’ll probably be a little hung over this morning,” he said.

“She was drinking?” Oliver asked, surprised.

“She got into the wine last night, like hard and started getting kind of weepy, saying she lost you, more like my baby boy is gone. It was really weird and unsettling,” Stan explained.

“You think maybe just residual apron strings?” Oliver offered.

“Mmm, I thought maybe just delayed postpartum but she was borderline hysterical, so no, it was more than that. She’s not much a drinker, never has been, but she sure tied one on last night. The more she drank, the less coherent she got, started rambling about a debt, an obligation she owed her sister and how she had to do it. I tried to get her to explain it to me but she just said I wouldn’t understand then she got all maudlin and broke down crying saying you were lost to her,” he countered.

“That is weird. First off, she doesn’t have a sister and other than coming to school, I haven’t gone anywhere,” he chuckled. It was very strange. Stan was right about her drinking habits. As far back as he could remember, he had never seen his mother inebriated. She enjoyed an occasional glass of wine, but she had never been flat out hammered.

“I know, right? Which is why I’m calling, just so I can tell her when she gets up that I spoke to you and everything is okay, that is if she even remembers last night,” he chuckled.

“What was that about debt? Did she elaborate?” Oliver queried.

“She didn’t say precisely, just that it was a lot harder than she thought it was going to be. I asked her what, and she just shook her head and said your name. I told her we could call you last night just to put her mind to rest and she said what’s done is done,” Stan replied. “I gave her the ‘Oliver is man now and it was time for you to go out into the world speech’ to try and reassure her, but she was practically inconsolable.”

“I don’t know what to say. That is so strange,” Oliver opined, frowning. What did it mean? Why was his coming to school having such a profound effect on her?

“So none of that makes any kind of sense to you?” Stan questioned.

“Not a clue, I’m completely baffled,” Oliver shared.

“And everything there is hunky dory? You settling in alright?”

“Pretty much, yeah I’m just getting prepped for classes next week,” he answered.

“How about your roommate, you two getting along?”

“Cam? Actually he unfortunately had to leave school to attend some personal matters back home, so it looks like I’ll probably be getting a new roommate sometime this week,” he answered. “It’s too bad because I really liked him and we were getting on great. Oh, but I did get a job,” he shared.

“Hey that’s great, doing what?” Stan inquired, genuinely interested.

“Just basically grunt work at a candle shop, slash store, but the boss is good and the pay is okay,” he replied.

“That is good news,” Stan congratulated. “Sorry to hear about your roommate though. Is your dorm coed, no, I don’t think it is, is it?”

“No it’s not coed,” Oliver replied.

“No? Too bad, because from what I saw, there was a lot of nice sweater meat on the talent there,” he chuckled.

Oliver shook his head and grinned. “There are a crazy number of beautiful girls here, like so many,” he said, but visualizing only one, Sersei and her lovely face, her playful smile. He frowned, because at the moment, he couldn’t think of her well-endowed chest without the term sweater meat popping into his brain.

Stan let out a long slow breath, “No disrespect to your mother, but man do I wish I was twenty one again, knowing the stuff I know now, the damage I could do,” he joshed.

Envisioning Stan surrounded by a host of the Omega Pi sisters and wondering how they would respond to having their breasts described by his slang term, Oliver laughed, “No doubt,” he stated.

“Anyway, I got to be going. I think I hear your mother stirring. She’s alive! Though, once she rises from the crypt I’m pretty sure she is going to feel like death, so give me a chance to get her stabilized and then I’ll get her to give you a ring,” he advised.

“Sure, that sounds like a plan Stan. Maybe she can provide some answers,” Oliver added.

“Love you son,” Stan shared affectionately.

“You too Stan, thanks for the call.”

“Bye,” Stan said, disconnecting.

Setting the phone back on the night stand, Oliver shook his head. What an unusual conversation. His mother did seem a little clingy when her and Stan brought him to the school, but a full on meltdown? And obligation? What was that about? In the back of his mind, he could hear Sersei’s voice using the same words to describe Cam’s reason for leaving, ‘to attend to an obligation.’ Odd coincidence. Hopefully when his mother called, she would be more lucid.

Getting up, he quickly put on his bathrobe and grabbed a towel before venturing down the hall to have a leak and a shower.

A Brooklynn Kind of Morning

Brooklynn awoke lying on her stomach and tangled in her bedsheets. Rolling onto her back, she stretched languidly and yawned. There was a little wiggle of movement from within her panties, making her smile and letting her know her little plaything was awake. The pressure in her bladder also told her she needed to pee. Freeing her legs, she spun them off the bed and sat upright, reaching her arms overhead for another stretch.

Hopping up, she danced across the room to her dresser and pulled out a plain white halter top, putting it on and slipping out into the hall. As early as it was, the house was still fairly quiet.

In the bathroom, she found a stall. Slipping thumbs into the elastic waist of her green panties, she wiggled her hips and carefully shimmied her panties down to her knees, spotting Cam curled up in the gusset.

“Good morning little Cam,” she greeted, grinning down at him while she lowered her bottom to the toilet seat.

Looking up at her with bleary eyes, Cam remain silent. His night confined in her underpants had been anything but restful for any number of reasons. The pervasive heat emanating from her body, the sounds her body made, the nocturnal movements she made in her sleep, all contributed to his weary and beleaguered condition.

The long night had given him plenty of time for reflection, but only served to add more questions to the growing litany of things he didn’t understand. Sersei had said their mother had not only been aware of what was happening, but actually was presenting him as a gift? Why? Why would she do that? What possible infraction did he commit to have her discard him so? If Sersei knew, was the whole thing just a set up? Was Oliver in on it? The perfect roommate there to keep tabs on him? He had never felt so alone in his life.

The sounds of Brooklynn’s pee splashing in the toilet pulled him back to the present.

“So I think we will start the day off with a little breakfast, you’re probably starving,” she said.

At the mention of breakfast, his stomach twisted and made an odd gurgle, the noise too small for her to hear over the sound of her voiding herself. He nodded.

“Granola and fat free yogurt,” she informed with a smile, squeezing out the last few squirts of urine before taking a piece of paper off the roll and drying herself.

Rising carefully to her feet, legs parted, she drew her panties back up, pulling him snug against her crotch. Though she had wiped herself, the close proximity to her privates held the pungent odor of urine.

She next removed him back in her bedroom, setting him down atop her now made bed.

Sitting down, he crossed his legs and watched quietly as she dressed herself in snug black mid-thigh length running short and a similarly colored sport bra before pulling out a bubblegum pink t-shirt. “Are you going for a run?” he asked, though when it seemed she hadn’t heard, he asked again, this time louder.

Pausing, she looked down at him, “After a nutritious breakfast, we are going for a run my little friend, then we are going play some more, then we’ll have a shower. I really wish we had a tub here,” she lamented, plopping down near the end of the bed and pulling on her white cotton sport socks.

Socks on, she stood up and swept him up into her hand, bouncing out of the room into the hall and down the stairs, rounding the corner and venturing into the kitchen. There was a square table with four chairs around it situated in a nook near the back of the kitchen, two of the chairs occupied one by Sersei, a small plate in front of her with half a bagel sitting on it, a the other chair was occupied by a younger looking girl he didn’t recognize, a ceramic cereal bowl in front of her.

“Good morning sisters,” Brooklynn said cheerily, setting Cam down on the table top.

“Brooklynn,” Sersei replied pleasantly before turning her attention to her brother.

“Sister Brooklynn,” mumbled the other girl, setting her spoon in the bowl and smiling kind of shyly before she too looked down upon him, big eyes even wider as she scrutinized him.

“Harmony, meet my little brother Cameron,” Sersei said, making introduction, opening her hand in his direction. “Oh, by the way I saw Oliver last night, he asked after you said he hopes everything works out for you. I told him you were a little, how did I put it, over your head, but fitting in nicely,” she shared, beaming a grin.

A surge of anger filled Cam. “Is he in on it?” he demanded.

Sersei chuckled and exchanged a glance with Harmony, “Heaven’s no. He’s as clueless as you,” she snorted.

That small revelation gave him some small measure of peace. Sersei’s seeming indifference to his plight ripped at him and because he really liked Oliver, the thought of being betrayed by him was almost too much to bear. “Why are letting them do this to me? You’re my sister? Do you hate me that much?” he asked, voice laden with emotion as he took a few steps toward her.

“Hate you? Please, save me the histrionics,” she chafed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

“Histrionics?” he chided, “Histrionics? I’m the size of a mouse I think I’m entitled to a display of emotion,” he said.

Brooklynn returned with a bowl of her own, sitting in one of the empty chairs. Removing a cluster of granola from the bowl, she dipped in yogurt and presented it to him.

As much as he wanted to rail at his sister, the sight and smell of food made him salivate, another pang of hunger twisting his innards.

Looking up at Brooklynn, “How was your night?” Sersei asked, capricious grin.

Granola in her mouth, she smiled and nodded.

Eyes back on her brother, “You sly little dog, you,” she chirped.

Cam heard her but didn’t bother to respond or even look up, gnawing ravenously at the food in his hands.

“Well I think it’s time for Harmony and I to go,” Sersei, pushing her chair back from the table. “Have fun Cam,” she added, blowing her brother a kiss before instructing Harmony to collect their dishes.

Again he didn’t rise to the bait.

When Brooklynn finished her breakfast, she picked him up, the half-eaten morsel of food falling from his hands.

Pulling open her shorts, she carefully slid him down into the groove of her pubis, positioning him just right. Taking her bowl to the sink, she walked out to foyer, bringing her leg up and squeezing it against her chest to limber up the muscles before setting off.

“How slight a thing will disturb the equanimity of our frail minds!” - Dickens

After relieving himself, Oliver grabbed a quick shower and prepared for the day. He wasn’t due at Vesper’s for several hours and he was still mulling over his conversation with Stan. What did it mean? Lost him? He was of half a mind to call Stan back when his phone rang. The ID on his screen told him it was his mother. Connecting the call, he brought the phone to his ear.

“Hey mom,” he greeted, keeping his voice cordial, taking a seat on his bed.

“How’s my little man today?” she asked, her voice weary.

“I’m fine, you know, I more curious about how you are today?” he queried.

She chuckled, “Sweetheart, I’m fine, just got a little carried away last night I suppose. I guess it’s a blessing I don’t remember too much from last night. According to Stan I was off my rocker and babbling all sorts of nonsensical stuff,” she said.

“So you’re okay?” he asked, tone speculative.

“Aside from the mother of all headaches, I’ll survive. Stan told me he gave you a ring and asked me to call in case you were worried,” she explained.

“Yeah, I appreciate that because it sounded like there was something going on there,” he said. “You sure you’re alright, I mean, it’s not something between you and Stan?”

“No, no, we’re fine,” she assured.

“Is it me? Did I forget to delete my search history on the computer again before I left?” he jested, trying to inject levity into the conversation.

She laughed, “Not that I know of, and if you did, I’m sure Stan sanitized so he wouldn’t think I thought it was him,” she replied, the jocularity in her response sounding forced and mildly disingenuous.

“Whew, that’s good,” he chuckled. “I don’t know if Stan told you, but I got a job working in a place that makes and sells candles,” he stated.

“Of course that’s good to hear dear, anyway, I have to run. I just wanted to say I love you,” she said.

He thought he heard an almost imperceptible break in her voice, or catch. He wasn’t sure. Just as a mother knows her child, a child knows its mother. The intuitive voice in Oliver’s head said something just wasn’t right, whether it was the inflection in her voice, the tone, he couldn’t exactly place it, but it was there, some nagging quality. “I love you too,” he replied. What was happening? There was almost a finality in her voice and suddenly he was worried for her. He couldn’t let it go. “Tell me what’s wrong?” he urged before she could end the call.

“Nothing dear, everything is perfectly fine now,” she replied, “though I do have to go,” she added.

“Mom,” he said, tone stern. Why did he get the feeling she was being evasive? Even when she and Stan were having relationship trouble a few years back, she had never sounded like this. It was unsettling.

“Just be careful son,” she said, disconnecting the call.

Phone still to his ear, he lowered it to find she was gone. “Goddammit,” Oliver grumbled, staring down at the phone a moment longer. Grumbling under his breath, he tucked it away. Agitated, he decided to forgo food and just grab himself a coffee. Leaving the dorm, he was still muttering, absently walking across the Commons, headed for Cup of Joe’s.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted Brooklynn jogging at a pretty good clip, ponytailed blonde hair swinging from side to side. Watching her brought a grin to his face, she was so gorgeous and perfectly put together he couldn’t help but appreciate her natural form. She must have spotted him too because she altered her course and was running directly toward him.

Stopping where he was, he continued to ogle her, though subtly, he didn’t want her to think he was too much of a pervert.

Drawing up, a glistening sheen of perspiration on her lightly tanned skin, she bent at the waist, hands on her thighs, breathing hard through a wide smile on her flushed face. “I thought that was you,” she panted.

Nodding, “Hi Brooklynn, how are you doing today?” he asked cordially.

Taking a few more deep breaths, she straightened up and glanced at the Fitbit on her wrist to check her heart rate, “I am doing spectacularly,” she announced, meeting his gaze.

There was no doubt about it in his mind, she was spectacular, especially that little gleam or sparkle of mischief in her big green eyes. “Just out for your run?” he queried, doing everything he could to focus on her face and not her heaving chest. Even sweaty, she was stunning.

She nodded, keeping her eyes on him while twisting at the waist. “If a girl wants to keep the boys panting, she’s got to make an effort to keep in shape. What about you? What have got planned for your day?” she asked.

“Not much. I was going to get a coffee, maybe kill a few hours in town. I have to work tonight, so,” he replied with a shrug.

Waggling a finger at him and talking in a Nicholsonesque cadence, “All work and no play makes Oliver a dull boy,” she said with a giggle, a little quaver in her voice as Cam brushed against a sensitive spot by moving inside his confinement.

He chuckled, “Oh no, I play,” he affirmed quickly, nodding before realizing the double entendre. That didn’t come out right. I play? What the heck did that mean?

“Oh?’ she queried coyly, right eyebrow rising playfully, smile spreading.

Was she flirting? He blushed, “No, that’s not what I meant,” he retorted, shaking his head before running a hand over the side of his hair. “How’s Sersei holding up with Cam leaving?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

Her grin broadened, “She’s a big girl,” she answered.

He nodded, “True enough,” he said, “Please tell her I say hello,” he requested.

“I will,” she assured.

Oliver nodded, “Well, I should let you get back to your run before you cool down too much,” he said.

“Yep,” she replied, giving him a wink and darting off.

Chuckling, Oliver let out a long breath as he fixed his eyes on her retreating back. It was almost enough to make him forget about his mother’s erratic behavior. Almost.

The Brooklynn Tunnel

After bumping into Oliver, Brooklyn cut her run short, returning directly to the Omega house. She couldn’t believe how incredibly turned on she was from her run-in with Cam’s roommate. Not that he was hot, although he was, her enflamed ardor was due to the fact of having Cam secretly tucked into her slit. It was so decadent talking to Oliver and feeling Cam writhe around. She wondered if Sersei’s brother had maybe heard and recognized Oliver’s voice. Was that what spurned him to movement? Regardless, she bounded up the steps and into the house.

Up in her room, she grabbed a towel and mopped her face, tossing it near the hamper before kicking off her shoes and wiggling out of her shorts. Climbing up onto the bed, she flipped over onto her back and retrieved Cam from her panties, his little body slippery and flushed pink as she used her free hand to slough off her underwear.

Released from the sultry pressure cooker-like confines of her panties, Cam felt faint, clinging to her feebly to the fingers curled around his body. He felt like he had been run over by a steam roller.

Lifting him over her face, “You’ll never guess who I ran into,” she said, grinning.

“I don’t know,” he croaked, shaking his head.

“Oliver!” she said.

He didn’t know what to say. Mashed against the folds of her privates and the sounds her body was making, he hadn’t heard a thing. What could Oliver have done anyway?

“He asked about you, well sort of in a roundabout type of way. I think he’s got an eye on Sersei,” she said, sliding her shirt up to her shoulders.

The mentioned of his sister’s name sent a stab of anger through Cam. How long had she known?

Lowering Cam down between her thighs, Brooklynn brought her legs together, smothering Cam between the firm flesh of her smooth supple legs as she removed her top and sports bra. Naked, she parted her legs, collecting Cam and set him on her sweat dampened stomach before she arched her back and stretched her arm above her head.

To avoid spilling off her body, Cam sprawled out.

“That tickles,” she chuckled, dropping her left palm over him and pressing his body flat against hers, the pressure behind it demanding and urgent as she slid him over her skin and down to the moist cleft between her legs.

Unable to counter Brooklynn’s vastly superior strength as she ground his body in a counter clockwise motion over the petals of her blossoming pussy, Cam went limp, surrendering himself to her whim and desire. Although lubricated by her leaking vagina, the friction generated heat intensified as she increased her pace.

Spreading her nether lips with the fingers of her right hand, she used her left index finger behind his head to push him into the tight opening of her body. Suddenly he became animated, trying to wriggle out from under the finger, but his efforts were to no avail as she easily shoved him through the frilly pink flesh and headfirst into her vagina, the hungry orifice swallowing him to his waist before she positioned her fingers over his feet and drove him deeper into the humid crushing darkness. He opened his mouth to scream, rewarded instead by swallowing what seemed a gallon of her juices.

Twisting inside her pussy, fingers scrambling over the slippery corrugated fold trying to find purchase, there was nothing he could do as her undulating pelvic muscles drew him deeper inside the heated pit of her hunger. Suddenly he was in space, the pressure around him abated though everywhere there was a soft spongy texture except for one wall, sleek and smooth, a small opening in the middle of it. He could still hear the force of her blood moving through her body, the deep rhythmic pulse of each beat of her heart. He could draw breathe, the air thick and wet with her essence, her taste invading his senses. It was such a strange sensation being lost up inside this beautiful girl as she continued to please herself.

Brooklynn lay supine, back arched as her fingers danced with practiced precision over the sensitive areas of her pussy. She knew Cam was somewhere deep within her and she thought she could feel a flutter of movements from somewhere near the core of her being. “I’m…going…to…come,” she said between gasping breaths, losing herself to the gathering desire raging like an out of control fire moments before flashover. Movements becoming erratic, jerky, she threw herself over the edge, climaxing with abandon, yielding reason for bliss, every synapse triggered and neuron firing.

The whole space around Cam seemed to quivers, the flesh trembling and then collapsing in on him, her cervix slamming into his body with each contraction. The impact was tremendous, like being hit by a truck again and again, the space between suddenly swamped with viscous fluid so thick it pasted him left arm across his chest.

Lying in the sultry darkness, up, down, left, right, Cam had no bearing, though gratefully Brooklynn’s cervix ceased its assault on his tiny body. Letting his air out slowly, he slid his arm away from his body, fingers exploring the fluted walls of his confinement. In the absolute blackness, he found the upper entrance to her birth canal leading down and out of her vagina, though the dense tissue refused to part enough to permit him to pass through it. Using his hands and feet, he tried futilely to gain entry.

Slamming both fists down against the resilient flesh, “Let me out!” he hollered, a wave of claustrophobia setting in. It was like a miner trapped deep in the earth, except the earth was Brooklynn and the mine her ravenous pussy. The whole space shuddered and shifted.

Getting up from the bed, cheeks flushed crimson from her climax, Brooklynn crossed the room and drew a robe around herself before gathering the other things she needed for her shower. Going into the bathroom, she took a stall and hiked up her robe. Sitting on the toilet, she arched her pelvic, fingers exploring her seeping vagina as come drooled out and into the cold water below. “Come on Cam,” she murmured, trying to coax him out. Finally she located an arm and carefully grabbed it, dragging him out of her and into her hand.

A Candle in the Wind

Oliver went to work, the odd phone calls still leaving him feeling unsettled and confused. Getting off the bus, hands in pockets, he walked to the store. Entering, he was surprised to see a young kid, maybe nine or ten standing there with an apron on, slender arms wrapped around a box.

“Hey,” said Oliver, smiling at the boy.

“You must be Oliver,” said the kid, grinning back.

“Yeah, I’m Oliver. Are you my replacement?” he asked jokingly.

“I’m Aventus, this is my mother’s shop,” he explained.

“Aventus? That’s cool name,” Oliver replied, nodding. “Vesper is your mother?” he inquired, kind of surprised. It had never occurred to him she might have a child.

The kid nodded, “Yep,” he said.

Vesper appeared from the back of the store. Spy9ing Oliver, she smiled, “I see you’ve met my little man,” she stated, nodding to the boy.

Oliver nodded, “Affirmative,” he replied. “At first I thought maybe you had hired a replacement,” he added with a chuckle.

Vesper shook her head, hair swishing across her shoulders, “Hardly. I think you’ve fit in quite nicely here,” she said, a bit of a sparkle in her eye.

“I’m going to put this in the back,” Aventus announced, hefting the box and sliding passed his mother.

“He seems like a nice kid,” Oliver praised.

Looking over her shoulder then back to Oliver, “He is a good boy,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “Something on your mind, you don’t quite seem all here,” she commented, closing the distance between them and reaching a hand up, cupping his cheek.

“Just some stuff going on at home,” he murmured, delighting in the feel of her fingers lingering on his face.

“Oh?” she queried, lowering her hand, a concerned expression replacing the smile on her face.

“I don’t know,” he answered with a shrug.

“Come now, you know you can tell me,” she encouraged.

He chuckled, “Probably just reading too much into it, but my mom is acting a little out of character is all and I can’t quite put my finger on why,” he explained, shaking his head.

“What has Sam all out of sorts?” she probed.

Oliver paused before responding. Had he told her his mother’s name? He couldn’t recall specifically but he was pretty sure he hadn’t. How then did she know his mother’s name? “Like I said, I’m probably just over thinking it.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, almost imperceptibly, but he saw it. “Has to be something,” she prodded.

He laughed, “Apron strings,” he stated, making light of the situation, though that unsettling feeling returned to the pit of his stomach.

“You’re probably right,” Vesper said, putting her hand on his shoulder and giving him a light pat of reassurance. “Did I mention, the hulking boy from the house the other night, the football player, he got his third band. The girls will be throwing him a little welcome tonight and you are invited,” she stated.

“Bear Briar?” he asked.

Her face brightened, “Yes, that’s his name,” she responded.

“I’m not sure,” he said, a noncommittal expression on his face.

Vesper frowned, the lines marring the beauty of her face, “I’m sure Sersei won’t be too disappointed should you pass on the get together,” she said.

The mention of the girl’s name brought an image of her to his mind. There were so many random bits of information in his head that didn’t quite seem to make a whole lot of sense individually, but as it piled up, the alarm claxon in his head sounded louder. He needed something to give, some Rosetta stone that brought all the information into context. Maybe going back to the Omega house might give him that something. Exaggerating a roll of his eyes, he grinned at her, “Okay, I’ll go,” he conceded.

“Excellent, we’ll go right from here after work,” she replied just as Aventus returned to the room.

“I put the box with the others,” stated the boy.

“Thanks,” Vespers said, tussling the boy’s hair. “Maybe you could Oliver a hand getting the rest of those boxes put away?” she suggested.

“Sure,” Aventus replied with a huge grin.

“Alright then, I’ll leave the men to work,” she said, nodding and disappearing back into her office.

“Your mom is really nice,” Oliver said.

“Yep,” said the boy, walking over to where there were a stack of box similar in dimension to the one he had moved earlier.

“What about your dad?” Oliver inquired.

Aventus shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know. I never met him and mom doesn’t talk too much about him,” he replied, bending over to pick up another box.

“No stepdad?” asked the older boy, scooping up three of the boxes.

“Nah, just me and mom,” he answered, grunting as he hefted the box to belly height.

Oh? That must be hard when she’s working late?” Oliver said.

Aventus grinned, “Most of the times girls from the sorority come over and watch me,” he replied.

“Omega Pi girls?”

He nodded, moving through the door into the back, Oliver trailing. “It’s not babysitting because I’m not a baby,” he added, setting his box down.

Oliver chuckled, placing his burden beside the box Aventus has just deposited. “Do you have a favorite girl?”

“Teagan is super nice, she calls me her little trooper. I think I’ll miss Carrie the most. Mom says she graduated last June and is going to school someplace else this fall. Most of them are pretty nice and I haven’t met the new girls yet,” he said, brushing his hands together.

“Have you met Sersei?”

“Uh huh, she calls me cutie pie,” he said with an exasperated tone followed by a noise of disapproval, making Oliver laugh.

“She gave me this band,” Oliver said, displaying the vibrant pink wrist decoration.

“Allie said I’m too young to get wristbands yet, but once I’m ready for university I’ll get some then. I don’t know if I want pink one though,” he offered, again drawing a smile from Oliver.

Together the two boys got all of the boxes moved in short order. No sooner hand they finished when Vesper appeared, looking at Oliver. “You mind watching the shop while I get Aventus settled for the night?” she asked.

“Sure,” he replied, nodding before looking at the boy, “Thanks for the help. It was nice to meet you,” he added.

“You too,” replied the kid, allowing himself to be ushered out of the shop.

“I’ll be back in a half hour or so,” Vesper informed. “You want a coffee or anything?”

“I’m good,” he replied. A half hour. It would give him a chance to take a quick look around the place to see what if anything he might find that might be out of the ordinary.

Hot Sweet and Sticky

Standing on the molded soap dish holder insert into the shower stall, Cam was grateful for the respite from Brooklynn’s libidinous onslaught as she doused her head under the spray of steaming hot water. He was so tired.

Turning to the side and making a show of kneading suds over her glistening pert breasts. “You like?” she asked coyly.

“You are very pretty,” he said, but his voice was lost in the sound from the shower.

“Did you just say you wanted to go again?” she asked with an excited expression on her face.

Shaking his head rapidly, he waved his arms, “No!”

“You are insatiable!” she said, keeping her eyes on him but turning her torso to allow the water to wash away the soap from her chest.

It was all too much for Cam. Dropping to his knee he slumped forward, wondering if maybe he should just fling himself off the soap tray with the hope the shower floor would put an end to his predicament. But he couldn’t.

Dousing her hair again to rinse out the shampoo and conditioner, she turned off the water and flicked her head back and twisted to the side, wringing out her hair.

“Please, Brooklynn, we can I go home?” he asked.

Head tilted to the side, she smiled down on him, chuckling, “You are home Cam,” she replied.

Lower lip trembling, Cam shook his head, eyes brimming with water.

“Make sure you do a good job of cleaning yourself,” she instructed, sliding the opaque shower curtain back and stepping out onto the mat.

Sodden by overspray from the shower, Cam rubbed absently at the dampness on his chest.

One towel bundled around her head, Brooklynn wrapped herself in another before she plucked Cam off of the little shelf in the shower and held him in her palm, “Are you excited?” she asked.

What was there to be excited about? Another round of being used as a toy to sate the lust of this giant sized girl? No, he was not excited.

“Kandi has to work tonight so I am going to give you off to her today,” she announced, making her way back to her room.

“Kandi?” he croaked, envisioning the redhead the way he had seen her when he and Oliver had snuck into the strip club.

“Don’t fuss, you’re going to have a lot of fun with her, she’s a great girl. Not like Cerys, she’s the one to watch out for. We lose too many little ones to her, what shall we call it, appetite,” Brooklynn stated. Back in her room, she set Cam down on the top of her desk and finished drying herself.

Visualizing the glacial blue eyed Cerys in all her terrible beauty, Cam sat quietly, lost in his own thoughts as the blonde giantess redressed. When she was done, she picked him back up and went back out into the house, stopping at another door and knocking.

Kandi opened the door, red hair piled atop her head in a roll. Seeing Brooklynn, a wide smile split her face as she brought her hands together in an excited clap, “My turn?” she inquired.

Brooklynn nodded, extending the hand holding Cam and depositing him into Kandi’s hand.

While Brooklynn’s hand was fresh clean from the shower, there was the fragrance of some scented lotion in Kandi’s soft hand.

“He is a lot of fun,” Brooklynn said, nodding her head and grinning.

“I can hardly wait,” Kandi expressed.

Touching her fingers to her lips, Brooklynn blew Cam a kiss, “Later,” she said before vanishing down the hall.

Kandi smiled back and then looked down at the tiny youth lying in the center of her palm. “How are you doing today sugar?” she asked, bringing him up near her face.

“Long night,” he murmured back. Was there any point trying to petition her for help? She had been the one who told him that he was nothing more than a toy for the girls to play with. No help there.

Closing the door, she walked across the floor and took a seat on the edge of her bed, Cam still in her hand. “I don’t know what you and Brooklynn did together, so forgive me if this seems a little repetitious for you,” she said with a chuckle. Setting him down on the bed, she stood up, pulling her t-shirt up over her head. “You remember the twins?” she inquired, tossing her shirt to the side and pressing her bosoms together.

He nodded mutely, having seen Kandi’s breasts before in the club, though under the club’s flickering lights. Even then they had seemed very large, now they were positively immense, easily larger than Brooklynn’s.

She removed her brassiere, springing her firm DD’s free, smallish erect nipples a pale pink rose color. Next she shimmied out of her stretchy pants, standing naked beside the bed.

His eyes drifted from her enormous breasts to the split in her shorn pubis.

Seeping him up into her hand, Kandi practically flung herself onto the bed, cupping Cam against her prodigious left breast.

Cam went limp, yielding to the redhead’s movements as she massaged him against her breast, little body stimulating the sensitive tissue of her aureole and tight nipple as she opened her legs and explored the dampening folds of her vagina as her excitement continued to grow.

“I want you there,” she said breathlessly, curling her fingers around his body and moving him down and into the furrow of her aroused sex, the sticky dew there clinging tenaciously to his body as she swirled him around the frilly flesh.

Again, Cam found himself helpless to the whim of her rising want.

Switching her hold on the tiny boy in her hand, thumb and forefinger to either side of his head, she began to push his body into hers feet first, his legs sliding easily into the lubricated opening of her pussy. Still holding him by the skull, she worked him in and out while strumming the engorged clit directly above him.

He could feel the weight of her flesh crushing against him while he was being used and knew by the increased amount of vaginal secretions she was going to climax. He thought for sure skull his skull would crack under the pressure of her fingers as her vagina spasming and clutched greedily at him as she came. She left him embedded until the contractions subsided, dragging him out of her and laying him on the peaks of her left breast.

“I just needed to get that first one out,” she said, brow damp from perspiration.

Lying there, he remained silent closed his eyes, her rich taste lingering in his nose and mouth. He didn’t know what she had in store, but what was there for him to say?

Vesper’s Office

Oliver was glad the traffic in the store was practically nonexistent as his time to investigate Vesper’s office was very limited. Having worked in most parts of the store, it made sense for him that if there was anything to be found, it would be in Vesper’s office, except he had no clue what it was he might be looking for.

Vesper’s office/work room was fairly large in comparison with the other room in the shop, occupying almost an entire third of the entire space in the store. There were tons of boxes of varying sizes neatly stacked around the room, but Oliver decided to investigate the desk first. Walking over, he sat in her chair. On top of the desk was a cloth shopping bag, containing of all things, candles. Also Inside the tote there was a small, hinged metal box with wax on either side, resembling something someone might use to take an impression of a key or some such. Nothing of value there. Looking down, he tested the top drawer to see if Vesper kept it locked. Finding it open, he pulled it out. Inside were mostly stationary items and stuff one might expect to find in a typical desk. Both of the lower drawers held file folders with invoices and patterns. Leafing quickly through the reams of files, he found nothing he thought connected to anything of importance.

Sliding the lowest drawer home, he shook his head, eyes drifting to her worktable where there was a bunch of medium sized boxes stored underneath. Getting up from the chair, he went over to the worktable and crouched down, examining a few of the different sized boxes stored underneath. Sliding a box off the top of the stack, he set it on the ground in front of his feet and opened the flaps revealing smaller boxes filled with molds and casts for different shaped candles and the like. The next box was the same. The third box also contained molds, except these were smaller. Each box had a name written on it. Selecting one with ‘Kyle’ scrawled on it, he opened the box and slid the mold into his hand. Opening the mold, Oliver chuckled softly. The shape in the plaster cast was a tiny person between two and three inches in size. His first thought was that it might be like a pawn of something for a chess set, or a novelty candle for a birthday cake. He picked out another small box, this one with ‘Steven’ written on it. Same as before, a tiny figurine shape. There were dozens of these smaller boxes in the larger box. Curious. Reassembling the box to the way he had found it, he returned it under the table and replaced the other boxes atop it. There was another box tucked away near in the back rear corner, this one with a smiley face in marker on the side. Down on his hands and knees, he fished out the box, folding back the lid and peering inside.

Reaching inside, “Sweet Jesus,” he muttered, pulling out a transparent blue phallic shaped silicon sex toy roughly eight inches in length. There were three others of similar dimension but colored differently in the box on top of more molds. Examining the toys, he surmised each of the four must be rejects because they all possessed the same hollow depression on top of them. His brain immediately imagined Vesper using one of these on herself and he hastily put the device back in the box, folding the flaps down and pushing it back to where he had found it.

Getting to his feet, he paused to brush dust and debris from his knees. Checking his watch, he frowned and shook his head. She would probably be back soon. Having found her stash of adult paraphernalia, he hoped he could look her in the eyes without blushing.

Exiting her office, he set about cataloging the recent delivery he had helped Aventus cart into the shop. No sooner had he started than the bell above the door in the front of the shop chimed, announcing a customer. Coming out ot the front, he was greeted by Vesper.

“That was quick,” he commented.

“In and out,” she replied, giving him a sly look.

His fertile imagination instantly produced lurid images of her playing with herself in his brain. Clearing his throat, he turned away.

“Any customers?” she asked, walking passed toward her office.

“Nope,” he replied, “but the new order is all processed,” he added.

Setting her purse down on the desk, she nodded, “Good.” Turning back to face him, “You excited for tonight? Maybe you’ll get your third band,” she suggested.

Oliver shrugged, “Maybe,” he conceded.

Vesper chuckled.

“Why is it that the girls make this such a big deal about the bands anyway?” he asked.

“You know sororities. I think it harkens back to an earlier time, you know, one filled with pomp and circumstance, and the nature of rituals. It was around long before I ever went to school and it’ll be around long after this current crop of young women graduate,” she opined.

“They do love them some pageantry,” he agreed, thinking he couldn’t really argue against the possibility she was positing as it seemed feasible enough, but he also couldn’t let go of the visceral feeling of something being not quite what it seemed.

She nodded.

“Who did Bear Briar get his bands from?”

“Um, let me see if I remember the order correctly. Melody, Monroe, and Gianna,” she answered, though by the look on her face, it seemed as if she was not entirely sure she was correct.

He remembered Monroe, vaguely, the large breasted blonde-haired girl from the night they celebrated Cam’s third band. After downing that little drink she had poured for him, everything went south. Tonight would be different. This time he would avoid imbibing their odd little drink and not surrender his senses. The other girl, Gianna, he had yet to meet.

As if reading his mind, “You’ll meet them tonight when the girls toast Bear’s trifecta,” Vesper said.

Oliver nodded. Tonight would be interesting.

Walk a Mile in Someone Else’s Shoes

Kandi lay on her bed a while longer, savoring the little post-orgasmic sensations still teasing her senses. The anticipation to use Cam had been murder, although the hasty payoff with him was definitely worth the wait.

Looking down over her breasts at the boy lying on her taut stomach, a smile touched her ruby lips as she remembered seeing him that first night in the club. His big eyes glued to her, hypnotized by the sway of her body.

There were several reasons why she chose to subsidize her tuition by dancing nude. One, without boasting, she knew she was gorgeous, equipped with a body built for the craft, tight shapely ass, big tits and an angel’s face. Two, there was no way in the world she could make the same kind of money doing anything else legally, and three she was an exhibitionist, thriving on the fact that she knew how to drive the men wild with desire for her. The unbridled power she wielded over the male of the species delighted her, excited her. No less than five times during a typical night, she received declarations of undying devotion and at least one marriage proposal.

While she was waiting for Brooklynn to take her time with Cam, Kandi was planning how she might enjoy him. Knowing Cam would be coming to her, she had decided to forego attending the ritual of taking of Melody’s Bear. Besides, she was due to dance at The Den that afternoon. She definitely wanted to take him with her to the club, not to show him off to the other girls or anything, just to have him on her while she wove her magic and enchanted her audience. The mere thought of it made her wet again. The question was how she could take him and keep him hidden from view as all those sets of eyes ravished her while she was up on stage bereft of clothes. The easy answer was she could hide him inside her pussy or her ass, though she also ran the risk of him suffocating. No, she wanted him to be completely aware of his surroundings. Stashing him inside one of her orifices certainly prevented that. Then an idea came to her how she might be able to pull it off with no one the wiser. Tonight she would wear sheer white thigh high nylon stockings. She could keep them on but still display her assets. Cam, small as he was, could fit in behind the ornate lacy leg band, held in place by the firm elastic.

She thought it should work, but needed to try it out beforehand to be certain she could pull it off without inadvertently hurting or maiming him, the last thing she wanted was to garner the same kind of reputation for dispatching little ones as Cerys.

Picking him up off her stomach, she set him on the bed and got up. Padding across the floor to the dresser to fetch a pair of nylons stockings in order to try to see if her idea was feasible, she pulled out a pair before returning to the bed, leaning her bum against the edge as she slid the toes of her left foot into the stock and pulled it up.

Twisting, she collected Cam, Pulling out the elastic and sliding him into please on the outer portion of her thigh. Although small, to the casual eye it was easy to see the outline of something tucked into the band. Another issue, keeping him there is during her set, he might get accidently crushed if she rolled over him. Frowning, she shook her head. Where else could she keep him?

She was about to remove the nylon, when she saw a small run the nail of her big toe had caused. “Dammit,” she muttered, folding her leg and bringing her foot up.

Looking at her foot it occurred to her there might be a solution to her problem. Given the space betwixt her toes and the ball of her foot, Cam might fit neatly in the space, though she figured it would probably be a very tight fit. She would position him so that he was face up with the ability to peek out from between her big toe and its neighbor.

Balling up the other stocking, she placed Cam inside it before slipping her foot into the opening. Positioning Cam’s body in the groove, she pulled the stocking up, the taut nylon securing the tiny youth in place. Wriggling her toes, she could feel him. Lowering her foot, she put it on the floor, putting some weight on it to test and make sure she didn’t accidently crush the little fellow. Looking down at the shaded between her toes, his face barely visible, it seemed to Kandi he was fine other than maybe having some difficulty drawing deep breaths. Next she tried walking, pressing her weight forward. He appeared to grimace some, but still seemed to be basically unharmed. Walking to the closet, she pulled out a pair of open toed four-inch still heels, glossy black. A slow smile spread across her face. She could keep him confined there whilst she performed her sets, a secret little passenger. The thought aroused her but she decided she was going to wait, build herself up through the show before playing with Cam again. Strutting around her room, she dropped down on her knees, mimicking body movements she would later be making on stage to make certain Cam would be adequately hidden from the audience’s view. That said, she highly doubted people would be looking at her feet once she had bared her breasts and pussy. Plus situated as he was, Cam still had the ability to look out look out. Removing her nylons, she fished Cam out and put him back on the bed before retrieving an undamaged pair from her drawer.

Remaining quiet, Cam watched her, shaking his head slightly. Being crammed into the toe of her stocking was incredibly confining. At least it wasn’t as bad as being wedged into Brooklynn’s panties.

Third One is the Charm

Anticipating the evening ritual, Sersei was excited for two reasons. Firstly and obviously the ritual itself where the sisters would be taking Bear Briar, and secondly, seeing Oliver again. She had decided tonight, prior to the draught she would permit Harmony to present Oliver with his third band. It was time. She needed to fill that hollow ache between her thighs. Like a cat with a mouse, she had thoroughly enjoyed playing with him, especially knowing what was in store for the youth, but now she wanted to end the charade and start the gears in motion that would see him reduced and placed in her care.

Most of the sisters were present at the Omega house when Melody arrived with brawny Bear Briar. The hulking youth reveled in the lavished attention the girls were heaping on him. Sersei had no doubt the sinfully cute Melody would wipe that smug grin off his square-jawed face in no time. If not her, then definitely Teagan and her penchant for ass play.

Oliver arrived at the house accompanied by Vesper, though once in the house she excuse herself and left him to gathering of sisters.

Drifting over to him, “Hi,” Sersie said warmly, encircling her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly making sure she pressed her substantial and firm breasts hard against him. “I was hoping you would come.”

“Hi,” he replied, reciprocating the vigorous embrace and giving her a wide smile.

“Ladies, no need to worry, there’s plenty of Bear to go around,” bellowed the massive football player, his voice followed by a handful of feminine titters.

Breaking the hug, Oliver rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t know about that guy,” he said.

Sersei chuckled, “Don’t worry about that oaf, he’ll get his I’m sure,” she stated, turning her head to greet the slender, shy, brunette girl that had approached. “You remember Harmony?” she asked, glancing back to Oliver.

“Of course,” he replied, bobbing his head and greeting the girl. “Hi again,” he offered.

Grinning shyly, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before speaking. “Hi back. I was wondering if maybe you might, I mean, would you wear my wristband?” she asked timidly, pointing at the brightly colored band encircling her tiny wrist.

Oliver grinned back at her and flicked a glance at Sersei, “Sure, It would be my honor, thank you,” he replied, giving her a slight affirmative nod.

Stepping forward, she slipped the band off her wrist and held it toward him.

“Good,” congratulated Cam’s sister, “now you have to put the band on his wrist and ask him if he accepts it,” she instructed.

“By accepting this band you accept that you now belong to me and by virtue of the claim to the sisters fo Omega Pi,” she said, glancing toward a grinning Sersei. She looked up at him through big green eyes and smiled, “Do you accept my claim?” she inquired demurely, a hint of color touching her cheeks.

“Okay,” he replied putting his hand forward to receive the pink band next to the two he was already sporting.

After Harmony slipped the band over his hand and onto his wrist, she smiled back at him.

“Thanks,” he said, lifting his hand to look at the bands there before giving it a bit of a shake.

Sersei smiled, pleased with herself. Soon he would be hears. Her only lament was that Cerys had been the one to give Oliver the second wristband, which more than likely spelled his demise and meant Harmony probably wouldn’t get a chance at him.

“ Now that Oliver has three bands, that doesn’t mean this celebration for the other guy will also be for him tonight does it?” Harmony inquired., bright green eyes inquisitive.

Sersei shook her head, “No, we will do this all over again in two day’s time for Oliver,” she explained with a slight nod of her head.

Oliver was about to ask a question when Allie took charge of the, getting everyone seated in preparation of the ritual. The process itself essentially mirrored the one after Cam received his third band. Everyone re-introduced themselves, including the only other male in the room Kent McCready, the same guy from Cam’s party, then plastic glasses were handed out and everyone received a measure.

Sersei kept her eyes on Oliver, his eyes darting around furtively, almost searching for something. She hid herself behind her plastic cup as she drank the amber colored potion. He was certainly behaving suspiciously and she wondered if maybe he catching on? She was tempted to tell him of his fate, the things she had in store for him. Just thinking about it made her dewy. What would he say if he found out he was going be shrunken and used to sate her desire? Obviously he wouldn’t give it any credence, people can’t shrink people. Oliver definitely seemed to be looking for a way to dodge drinking the potion but under her constant scrutiny there was nothing he could do to avoid it.

Getting up from her seat, she walked over and took the glass from his hand, touching it to her lips for a sip. “”it’s not poisonous,” she said with a smile, handing the glass back to him. “We are all drinking from the same bottle,” she added. What she didn’t deign to share was that all of the girls had also imbibed a measure of the reagent beforehand to inhibit the effects created by the draught.

Looking back into his cup, Oliver chuckled and smiled, bring the cup to his mouth and draining the contents in a single drink.

Sersei knew it wouldn’t take long for the draught to do its job and Oliver would be as docile as a little lamb, quasi alert and amenable to instruction, analogous to conscious sedation used in some emergency rooms.

Watching his eyes slowly go glassy, his jaw slack as the potion took hold of him, she reached out and cupped him lightly on the cheek.

Sersei’s Side of the Story

Under Sersei’s hand, Oliver went blank. So too did the other two boys. Allie directed Melody, Monroe, and Gianna to escort Bear Briar down to the ritual chamber in the basement.

Bending at the waist, Sersei planted an unreturned kiss onto Oliver’s partially opened mouth.

“Do we take him back to his dorm room now?” Harmony asked, unfamiliar with the process.

Straightening up, Sersei shook her head, “After the ritual we’ll return him to his place,” she explained, reminding herself this was the first time for her pledge to be involved in the process.

“Can we just leave him like this, I mean won’t he come to or something?” the brunette asked, pursing her mouth.

Laughing, Sersei shook her head again, “The effects usually last about a dozen hours or so. Right now he is completely oblivious, absolutely no idea what’s going on around him right now. I could lay him back and sit on his face for an hour and he would never know,” she stated.

Harmony shook her head. “I apologize if this sounds stupid or ignorant, but I still don’t really understand what it is we are doing here,” she said, tone meek.

“Think about the whole process in sort of scientific terms as defined by the Law of Conservation of Energy. The law states energy can neither be created nor destroyed, merely transformed into different states. Matter is the product of condensed energy in a resting state, that when once enervated, releases energy,” Sersei explained.

Harmony frowned, a perplexed expression on her youthful face.

Sersei chuckled, “Hmm, let me think, oh I know, do you smoke?” she asked.

Looking abashed, Harmony nodded.

“Okay, think of these boys like a cigarette before you smoke it. Without a way to light it, it’s pretty much just useless, right?” she asked.

“Okay,” Harmony replied, uncertain.

“Now, bring fire into the equation and apply of the smoke and the tobacco burns and because energy cannot be destroyed, the stored energy is released in the form of heat as you inhale. You still following what I’m saying?” continued the blonde.

“I think so,” Harmony replied.

“Now what happens when you’re finished smoking the cigarette, what’s left?”

“The butt,” Harmony answered.

“Right, the butt. Now we are going to release the stored energy in Bear Briar and we are going to get to share some of that energy, like taking a puff from the cigarette and when we’re done converting his energy into a useable form, he will end up small,” she clarified.

“Aren’t they still people though?” Harmony asked, brow furling slightly as she gnawed nervously on the inside of her lower lip.

The blonde haired girl chuckled, “You’ve not experienced a harvest before and there are no words I can say that could possibly prepare you for the experience. Once you’ve tasted the flow of energy and feel the things it does to you, you’ll understand. It’s a million times more addictive than any cigarette. The reservations you might be feeling right now are going to be washed away in a tide of pure pleasure, I promise you, you’ll see,” Sersei said, looping her arm through Harmony’s and leading the other girls out of the room and down the stairs.

“But, I mean that doesn’t mean they still don’t have thoughts and feelings,” protested the slimmer girl.

“When you’re finished with a smoke, do you keep the butt?” she asked.

“No,” Harmony replied, allowing herself to be led.

Sersei nodded, but said nothing further as she pulled Harmony through the door into the basement room the sisters called the Star Chamber. There were an assortment of candles everywhere, the flickering flame casting dancing shadows across the walls, the smell of incense coming off the paraffin thick in the poorly ventilated room. There was a single table near the far wall of the room, roughhewn and thick in appearance. Allie stood in front of it.

In the center of the square room, near a raised slab of dark colored polished stone inset into the floor, Bear Briar stood passively, blankly as the three women who had given him wristbands systematically stripped him of his clothing. At their feet, an ornately carved silver colored washbasin.

There was a circle etched into the paving stones of the floor around the raised piece of stone, where the rest of the girls not divesting Bear of his garments stood watching.

With the large youth stripped naked, the girls lay him down atop the slab, each retrieving a cloth from the basin and gently washing his extremities, his powerful chest, and his angular face.

“You, me and Cerys will have to do that for Oliver when we take him, to prepare him,” Sersei whispered to Harmony.

Once the ceremonial cleansing was complete, the girls returned their cloths to the basin, Gianna carrying the bowl out of the circle while Melody and Monroe took up positions in the circle surrounding the slab.

Allie stepped into the circle near Bear Briar’s head, a small, stoppered phial with clear liquid in it in her hands. “He has offered himself of his own volition,” she said, pulling the stopper from the small bottle and sprinkling some of the oily contents down upon the unmoving youth. Replacing the glass stopper, she leaned down and traced her thumb over his forehead. Turning to first to Melody then each of the others with bands about the big man’s wrists,, “Do you accept his declaration of devotion to serve the want of our sisterhood?” she asked.

“I do,” Melody answered back, bowing her head reverently.

“I do,” repeated Monroe, offering Allie a small nod of affirmation.

“I also do,” Gianna confirmed.

“So mote it be,” Allie stated. Loudly.

“So mote it be,” chanted all of the girls around the circle, with the exception of Harmony.

Exiting the circle, Allie returned to the table and set the phial down. Gathering the cloth wrapped bundle containing the Weeping Stone, she turned back to the collection of women around the circle. “Let us begin,” she announced.

Cam

Pinned under Kandi’s foot in the hollow space under her toes near the ball of her foot and held fast by the nylon fabric, Cam was eminently grateful she took some pride in her personal hygiene. Little more than a spectator, all he could do was pray his body position didn’t shift under her foot as she walked. He tried to time his breathing with the cadence of her steps, exhaling as she brought her foot down but her walking wreaked havoc on his internal gyro, the motion very akin to some kind of rising and plummeting amusement park ride, twisting and knotting his stomach with each step.

Given how she had placed him, he had an adequate vantage from which to see, the nylon essentially translucent to his eyes. Looking up the length of her leg from his bug’s eye view, she was wearing a miniskirt and he could tell she wasn’t wearing any panties.

Once outside the Omega house, Cam got a sense of how truly small and insignificant he was at his current size.

It seemed she was running errands before she needed to be at work, stopping at various locations. The mall, the coffee shop. He found the whole thing frightening, seeing the throng of people moving around coupled with the sudden jarring sense of rapid acceleration and sudden stop as her foot came back to the ground. No one knew he was here.

An overwhelming sense of loss filled him as he realized the vast amount of things he had taken for granted. All now irrevocably gone. No one had spoken of the possibility of restoration or a return to his former self, only this was now his reality. Sersei had been no help at all, that sense of betrayal still like an icy dagger in his heart. How could she? Anger replaced fear, but it also swept aside his self-pitying. Trapped in the toe of Kandi’s stocking and not being used to service the libidinous hunger of a giant woman provided him a moment of clarity of thought

It occurred to him, when he woke up tiny all of the women waiting for him seemed so nonchalant, like this was no big deal for them. As if seeing someone less than finger sized was common. If that was the case, were there other people that they had made small? If so, where were those miniature people? So was it possible there were other little people living elsewhere in the Omega house or did the girls simply have a toy chest full of shrunk people that they could use and abuse at their leisure? Both Sersei and Brooklynn had made comment about Cerys and the dark haired girl’s brutal handling of ‘little ones’. Little ones, plural. So why make people little? How they did was no longer relevant to him, his current stature had already taught him the notion shrinking a human being was possible. But why? Shits and giggles? Sersei had stated not only was their mother aware of his fate, but she had deliberately sent him to the university specifically as a gift to the sorority, what were the words she used, a tribute? The question again for him was why. What could he have possibly done to warrant such a bizarre thing? What offense had he given? To whom?

Running around done, Kandi went to the Pit a half hour early in order to get ready for her shift, letting Bruce the manager know she was in before heading into the back of the club. In the rear, she parked herself in front of the large light bulb ringed mirror at her station along the long vanity counter the girls all called ‘the Buffet’. Primping and preening, she donned an angel costumed, little feathered wings on her back.

Another dancer, a dark haired girl named Destiny appeared through the curtains at the rear of the stage, clothes in her hands, “Hi Kandi, I love your costume,” she complimented, taking her chair at the Buffet.

“Good crowd?” Kandi asked, double-checking her makeup.

“Dead crowd,” Destiny murmured, frowning.

Kandi nodded, midweek afternoon shifts were not the most lucrative as it applied to tips, but she didn’t care. She wanted to get up on the stage and dance. In her perfect world, the entire audience would be small, gazing up at her in rapt appreciation.

The DJ announced her name, followed by the opening riff of You Give Love a Bad Name by Bon Jovi.

“That’s my cue,” Kandi said, hustling up the handful of stairs leading up to the stage and pushing through the curtains.

Striding across the raised floor, she scanned the handful of spectators seated around the room, making eye contact with each of them as she synchronized her body’s movements to the song. Surrendering to the music, the fact she had Cam underfoot took her to a whole other level.

Kandi’s casual walking had caused Cam to battle nausea. Her dancing took it to a whole other level. The rapid motion of her movements, the quick steps, the spinning exerted incredible G-forces to his little body. His stomach churned, threatening to empty itself of its contents. No way did he want to blow chunks in her nylon, not for her, but for him. He would have to dwell in it. Several times when something came up his esophagus, he swallowed it back down. Twice his vision narrowed and he struggled to hold on to prevent from going under. Fortunately for him, as Kandi’s set progressed, the songs slowed and pulled him back from the threshold.

As Kandi danced, she moved sensuously, her fit lithe body exuding a raw sexual energy. She had the handful of spectators in the palm of her hand, ensnared by her seduction. She felt in control, alive, excited. By the time she closed out her set with the aptly titled Angel by Aerosmith, her inner thighs were slick with arousal. Dressed now only in her heels and stocking, she gathered up her discarded clothing and exited the stage through the curtains amid a chorus of cheers.

“Sounds like you got the natives all riled up,” Destiny joked, leaning back in her chair.

Kandi grinned and plopped down in her seat, running her hands through her long flowing red hair. “You started the fire, I just gave it a prodding,” she replied, wiggling her toes. Cam moved, sending a thrill through her smooth flesh. She wanted to touch herself so badly, or better yet, take Cam out of the stocking and use him to finish her off, but she would wait. Tonight was going to be a very good night.

Sweet Tooth

Walking back from the club, Kandi arrived back at the Omega house shortly after 10pm, the refreshing cool night air welcome against her skin for the ordeal to come. Skipping up the stairs two at a time, she was eager to begin playing with Cam.

Reaching for the doorknob, she turned it only to find it locked. Shaking her head, she mentally chastised herself. Of course the door had been locked, the sisters were taking Bear Briar in the basement. Reaching into her various pockets, she fumbled around trying to locate her keys, though they were nowhere to be found. Frowning, she cupped her hands against the glass of the front door window, trying to peer in to see if any of the other sister not sharing in Bear Briar might be around.

A shadow appeared in the hall. Leaning back, she rapped the knuckles of her right hand sharply against the door.

There was a click from the lock before the door swung inward with raven haired Cerys standing there, icy blue eyes on the redhead. “Kandi,” she greeted coldly.

Pushing through the open doors, “I forgot my keys,” she said apologetically.

“Then lucky for you I was down here. The others are all pretty much downstairs,” she replied, closing and locking the door after the redhead.

“Night,” Kandi offered, hustling up the stairs to her room. In her room, she shucked her jacket and kicked off her shoes before flopping onto her back atop the bed. It had been a phenomenal night at the club, her tips parallel with a Friday or Saturday run. She knew it was because of the secret in her sock. Wriggling her toes, she felt Cam move. Sitting up, she unrolled the stocking confining the boy, letting him fall into the toe much the same as semen into the reservoir tip at the end of a condom.

Coughing, Cam knuckled his eyes, keenly aware off the foot smell clinging to his body.

“Hey there Cam,” said the redhead, grinning down at him.

“Kandi,” he replied, lowering his hands down to his side.

“So I was thinking we both could probably use a good bath, then, well, you know,” she said, voice purring.

He did know all too well. Unlike the uber-athletic Brooklynn who seemed to be a font of boundless energy, maybe Kandi’s dance had syphoned some of her energy off and left her depleted. After the shower, he came to realize no such luck.

Leaving him on the bed, she hung up her towel and retrieved a bright lime green colored dildo with the same hollow depression near the business end.

Sashaying back to the bed, she crossed her arms under her more than substantial breasts, “Did Brooklynn show you her toy?” she asked, grinning as the silicon plaything swayed back and forth in her grasp.

“Yes,” he croaked.

“I don’t think she has one of the new ones though, with hollow breathing channels built right into it,” she explained, showing him what she was referring to by pointing to two holes in the depression.

“Great,” he replied. “It looks like a lot of thought has gone into making that monstrosity,” he added sourly.

Kandi nodded slowly, “You have no idea how much I would have loved to have you strapped to this and then fuck myself on stage,” she growled, the intensity in her green eyes forcing him to look away. Raising her right leg up to the edge of the bed, she lowered the brightly colored toy down through the pale valley between her breasts, over her stomach and through the moistened crease of her sex.

Cam knew there was no point trying to object to whatever it is she had chosen to do because there was absolutely fuck all he could do to stop her. Offering her a wan smile, he spread his arms.

She lay the toy in front of him, the end of the helmet shape glistening with her juices. Lowering her leg, she walked back to her desk, returning with a roll of what appeared to be tape.

“Tape? You’re going to tape me to tie me to that thing?” he asked, eyes growing wide..

She nodded, pointing a finger at the hollow.

Climbing up onto the toy, Cam lay on his back, head toward the tip, “I don’t know,” he muttered, tucking his arms in down by his sides.

Scooping him and the toy up carefully, she wrapped the adhesive around him. Once she had him secured to the silicon, she took a moment to admire her handiwork. “We are going to have us some fun tonight,” she pledged.

Throwing herself back onto the bed, she parted her legs while bringing him up to her mouth, her plump lips opening around the head of the phallic shaped toy and moving down over his body.

Her breath was sweet, her saliva thick as she coated him before pulling him back out and stimulating first one then the other taut nipple crowning her prodigious breasts.

Once again, Cam had that sense of being strapped into one of the carnival style amusement rides, the motion wreaking havoc on his internal gyro. Swinging high up into the air over her body before plunging down toward her ravenous and swollen sex. The smell of her lust filled his nostrils a seconds being Kandi ran the toy through the sultry trench. Rolling the toy so it was face down, she used his face again the sensitive nub peeking out from beneath its protective hood. An image of the log ride at Disneyland popped into his head, making him laugh.

Arching her hips, Kandi turned the dildo again so that Cam was looking up her body. Easing the tips into the dewy folds of her pussy, she stopped with his head was half embedded in her vagina before she withdrew it again and brought it up near her face. “Are you teasing me Cameron?” she asked, mock reproach in her tone.

“You got me,” he said, arching his eyebrows.

Giggling, Kandi brought the toy back down to her slick slit and pushed it deep into herself, the flesh rolling over the tiny prisoner taped into the depression.

Eyes screwed tightly shut, he tried to breathe through his nose as she pushed and pulled him through the compressing tissue inside her vagina, leisurely pleasuring herself at his expense and him unable to do anything. Her muscles crushing down on top of him. He didn’t know if the breathing holes were clogged with her grool or what, but it was hard for him to breathe in the claustrophobic environment, his lungs burning as he choked on the viscous fluid filling the inside of her pussy.

With a grunt, Kandi came, holding the toy deep inside her as her pussy clenched at it. Slowly, she extracted the dildo from her sex, gobs of thick come sticking to the toy and in the depression around Cam.

“Mmm,” she growled, ignoring Cam’s sputtering as he struggled to get fresh air.

Blinking hard, he tried to clear her tacky juice from his eyes. Before he had a chance to speak, she hopped up off the bed, padding lightly across the floor to the desk. Licking the base of the dildo, she pressed it against the polished seat of her chair, leaving him to sway back and forth with the motion of the toy.

Cam cleared his eyes enough to see her swing a leg over and straddle the chair as she lowered herself down on top of the toy, swallowing him. It was going to be a long night.

The Kandi Man Can

After Kandi finished with Cam, she cleaned both herself and him. Choosing a snug pair of panties, she placed him inside for the night, back to her, facing outward.

He was grateful she placed him to the right of her mound and didn’t slide him directly into the groove of her most recently plundered vagina. He was so tired. It was starting to sink into his head this was his new reality. How or why they had made him small was irrelevant. The girls had toys specifically designed to play with little people and while he had no clue how long they had been making people small, he was certain it wasn’t a new thing to them.

Kandi shifted, rolling onto her side, the movement making the sheer material of his confinement feel like sandpaper against his abraded skin. Gritting his teeth, he was glad when she settled into her new position. It wasn’t long before the sound of her breathing changed telling him she was asleep. As fatigued as he was, he just could not seem to drift off to dreamland, his mind churning. He figured he had worked his way through the stages of grief and was now at acceptance. Now what? Get passed around from girl to girl until he was used up? Was that why there were no other shrunken guys like him? He knew there was no way to fight them because he was just too small. Was there a time limit on how long each girl got to play with him for? Brooklynn had had him for just two days before giving him over to Kandi. Allie was next, then Teagan. They were already lining up. Was Sersei somewhere in that line up? The notion troubled him. The sting of her betrayal was still too fresh and the thought of her pleasuring herself using him made him angry. The mocking expression she often wore on her face when they were younger flashed in his head. The more he thought about it, he could easily see her enjoying taking advantage of him.

“Fuck!” he bellowed, trying to dispel the image from his mind. Pushing against the taut fabric, he tried to slide his left arm up near his face to scratch at an itchy spot on his nose. After a considerable expenditure of effort, he managed it. Listening to the little gurgles and blurps Kandi’s body was making, he was starting to doze when she suddenly moved and hopped out of bed.

Striding out of her room, she moved quickly down the darkened hall to the bathroom where she entered one of the toilet stalls. Hooking her thumbs into her panties, she tugged them down just passed her knees and plunked herself down onto the toilet. The sudden motion of pulling down her underwear caused a frantic moment of freefall for Cam, who landed in a heap amidst the tangle of fabric before rolling down into the gusset of her panties. Desperately, he reached out, clinging to the fabric for fear of falling to the tiles below. Heart pounding, he could hear the loud splash of her hot urine in the toilet. He figured she must have still been half asleep, forgetting he was there.

Flushing the toilet, she stood upright, pulling her panties up in the same motion. Lying in the gusset as she drew them up, his new position in the crotch of her underwear brought him directly against the outer lips of vagina, the acrid stink of urine strong in his nostrils. To make matter worse for him, she reached down with a hand to adjust her panties, grinding him against her pussy with enough force to push him wedgie like into the grove of her slit before tromping back to her room and flopping onto the bed. Rolling on her side, she pulled the blankets up.

Nestled in amongst the folds of tissue, he actually found it slightly less restraining than before. Although pitch black, he could feel the frilly flesh at the entrance to her vagina. Funny how it seemed small in comparison to the dildo she had jammed into it. Above her pussy, his fingers found the opening of what he presumed was her pee hole. An arm’s length above that, he found the protective fold of skin over her clitoris. As much as he had bragged to Oliver about being worldly in the ways of women, Cam was very inexperienced, well prior to the crash course on female anatomy Brooklynn then Kandi had subjected him to during their play. He found the skin smooth, soft. The heat of her body radiating through the palms of his hands as he explored the surroundings. Able to push his hand beneath the clitoral hood, he found the soft spongy tissue of her pleasure nexus. Kneading it, he found it somewhere between the size of a softball and a volleyball in his hand as it became more firm.

Rolling onto her side, Kandi let out a soft moan, though loud enough for Cam to hear.

Waiting a few moments to see if she would move again, he started massaging her clit anew, noting how the flesh around rose in temperature and seemed to swell, like a flower opening to drink in the sun, so too did her vagina seem to bloom, the slippery juices leaking out of her slick around his feet and lower legs.

Did girls have wet dreams too?

Toying with this gigantic girl, how or why they had shrunk him didn’t matter, having accepted the circumstances, he resolved to survive. “I think I can,” he avowed, giving voice to his affirmation.

When Kandi moaned again and began to stir, he removed his hand from around her button, not really wanting to go through another session with her. It was enough that he had found himself and made the decision that no matter what, he would endure. After that, he wanted revenge on Sersei. A calmness settled over him and finally he was able to get to sleep.

Rude Awakening

Before Oliver opened his eyes, there was no doubt in his mind he had been dosed. The dryness in his mouth, like that of a desert wind across the Mojave, made his tongue feel thick and clumsy.

There was movement beside and a soft hand caressing the side the side of his face, “Rise and shine little sleepyhead,” came Sersei’s soft voice.

Forcing his eyelids open, he rolled his head to the side and focused his bloodshot peepers on the face of the girl lying beside him, tussled blonde hair framing her face. Even rumpled, she looked stunning, face angelic, propped up on an elbow facing him, her voluminous breasts unbound with erect nipples pushing through the flimsy fabric of her kitten printed nightshirt.

“You were absolutely wrecked,” she stated, amusement in her tone.

“Wrecked? I think the only reason I’m in this condition is because I think you and your gang of girls pretty much roofied me,” he replied accusatorily, the harshness in his throat making his voice raspy. It occurred to him this wasn’t his bed. Decidedly pink, feminine décor. Was this her room?

“I can’t help it if you’re a lightweight,” she chuckled, patting his cheek.

“Are we still in the Omega house? What did you do to me?” he queried, suddenly very conscious of the fact he was wearing only his underpants and was sporting a massive pee hard on.

She laughed, hand moving down off his face and under the blanket, “I’ll have you know while you were out, I was a good girl and did nothing to tarnish your virtue,” she said, stopping her hand near his navel and very close to his erect cock.

“What am I doing here?” he asked, eyes darting around the room, “I mean, in your room?”

“Two reasons, first, after Bear took a tumble down the stairs and basically buggered up his knee, we didn’t want to take any chances you might get hurt trying to get back to your dorm,” she explained, the lie slipping easily of her tongue.

“Bear Briar fell?” he queried. He couldn’t remember anything after the drink.

“Fell? The big buffoon was trying to show off and wound up torquing his knee pretty badly. Monroe thinks he might have screwed up one of his ligaments. She and Melody had to take him to the hospital. We’ll find out for sure later, but if it is as bad as it looks, he might be down for the season. Allie says given the severity of the injury the university might even launch an inquiry, but she wasn’t sure,” she provided.

“Oh, that’s messed,” Oliver said.

Sersei arched her eyebrows and nodded. “That is messed, but it shouldn’t interfere with our plans for you tomorrow, unless they issue some type of edict prior to the inquiry,” she shared. There would be no inquiry. No questions. Bear Briar now belonged to the sisterhood for as long as his tiny body could last.

Oliver nodded. “You said there were two reasons for my staying the night?” he asked

Shifting the position of her hand on his midriff and moving her index finger over top the swelling in his underwear, tracing it lightly around the tip of his cock through the fabric, “I just wanted to protect my investment,” she purred, licking her lips.

He wanted her to stop, but he didn’t want her to stop. It had been a long time since he had been with Sara and the sensation of a beautiful girl touching him was electric. “I, ah,” he babbled.

“Shh,” she urged, withdrawing her hand slightly before slipping it under the elastic waistband and encircling it around his penis. “Ooh, very nice,” she purred, complimenting his endowment.

He remain motionless, his breathing rate quickening slightly.

Leaning in close, “I love the way you feel in my hand,” she whispered in his ear, running her thumb slowly back and forth across his glans.

Oliver was pretty sure if he didn’t have a skull splitting headache and the need to pee so bad, he probably would have ejaculated then and there.

There was a knock on the door.

Hand still curled around Oliver’s cock, Sersei looked at the door and glowered. “What?” she said.

“Allie needs to see you,” came an unfamiliar female voice from beyond the door.

“Can it wait?” she replied.

“I don’t think so,” came the reply from the other side of the door.

Letting out a big sigh, Sersei shook her head. “I’ll be right there,” she replied, removing her hand and giving him an apologetic look. Clambering over him, she grinned down at him as she deliberately dragged her breasts across his cheek before getting out of bed.

“Okay, I’ll let her know you’ll be there shortly,” advised the other girl.

Standing there, Sersei grinned back at him and rolled her eyes. “After we do our little ritual for you, I promise I’ll finish what we started here,” she assured.

“Do you want me to wait?” he asked.

Another big sigh, “No, rules are rules and you should actually leave,” she urged, reluctance in her tone. Walking back to the bed, she pulled out her nightshirt enough to show off her panties, a damp spot discoloring the front. “Look how wet you made me,” she said, touching the moistness with the index finger she hadn’t used to touch him.

Oliver swallowed hard.

“Tomorrow night,” she said, extending her hand and touching it to Oliver’s lips, “I am going to give more than you can possibly handle,” she promised, retracting her hand and stepping back.

Tongue touching his lips and getting a hint of a taste of her essence, he nodded slowly, mutely.

Turning her back to him, she removed her nightshirt before fishing out a fresh one from her dresser, turning back, she grinned impishly, eyes glancing down at her bared breasts before looking at him.

Lying there, Oliver just stared at her perfect boobs.

“The things I am going to do to you,” she said throatily, pulling on her clean shirt. Next, she stepped into some stretchy pants. “Your clothes are there,” she said, motioning with her head as she pulled up her pants. “Get dressed I’ll walk you out.”

Climbing out of bed, he went over to the clothes he had been wearing the night before, getting dressed while she watched him, an amused expression on her face. He wanted to sleep with so bad. Forgotten was the headache, the litany of inconsistencies that plagued. Right now, the only thing on his mind was this blonde goddess.

Walking Oliver down to the front door, Sersei leaned against the jamb and watched him as the boy descended the stairs onto the walk, a predatory smile on her exceptionally pretty face.

Tag Teamed

Cam woke before Kandi, a sour taste in his mouth. Marinating in her juices for the night had left him coated in half-congealed sticky fluid from her vagina. A noticeable tart odor filled the air around him. Smacking his lips, he wrinkled his nose before pushing matted hair off his face. “I can overcome this,” he said aloud, reminding himself of his pledge to persevere.

It wasn’t long before Kandi roused, getting herself ready for the day. He used the time to take care of his own biological needs as well as clean himself. Breakfast consisted of a single milk-soaked multigrain Cheerio while she powered down a bowl of the same.

Brooklynn appeared in the kitchen, dressed as if she had been out for her morning run, a thin glisten of perspiration on her face.

“Cam,” she said gleefully, dropping into to a chair and checking her heart rate on the black Fitbit she wore on her left wrist.

Not bothering to look up at the newly arrived blonde girl, “Brooklynn,” he mumbled around the food in his mouth.

“Good run this morning?” Kandi inquired.

“Took it easy after all the things our little friend put me through,” replied the blonde, chuckling softly and winking at Cam.

Kandi laughed, “It is the little things in life that often brings us the most joy,” she commented.

“Absolutely,” Brooklynn agreed, leaning forward and resting her forearms on the table.

Teagan strolled into the kitchen, walking over and opening the refrigerator. Bending at the waist, she grabbed a yogurt cup before fetching herself a spoon and plopping down on a vacant chair at the table, a broad grin on her face as she looked at Cam and peeled back the foil covering atop the yogurt cup but not quite all the way off.

“How did it all go last night?” Kandi inquired.

“No problem,” Teagan replied, shrugging her shoulders and taking a spoonful of vanilla flavored yogurt into her mouth.

“That’s good, I was curious about it too,” Brooklynn added.

“What happened last night?” Cam asked, wiping his mouth against his arm.

“Nothing that need concern your little head,” Kandi replied, grinning.

“I am so jealous right now, you have no idea, ugh,” Teagan lamented, shaking her head, dark hair swishing over her shoulders.

“Why don’t you the two of you share?” Brooklynn, looking between the two other girls at the table.

Teagan’s eyes opened wide, a hopeful expression crossing her pretty face as she looked at Kandi.

Pursing her lips, the redhead nodded slowly, “That could be a lot of fun,” she replied, lips curling into a smile.

Cam definitely did not like the direction this conversation seemed to be taking.

Bring her hands together in a supplicatory fashion, Teagan grinned and nodded.

Turning to Brooklynn, “Are you still?” Kandi inquired.

“Just started,” replied the Brooklynn with an unhappy expression on her face.

“Oh, that’s why you passed him off so quickly,” said Teagan, nodding her head.

“To say the timing was less than ideal is an understatement, but at least I got a little bit of fun in before Mother Nature’s curse kicked in,” Brooklynn replied, grinning.

It suddenly occurred to Cam the women were discussing the ‘arrival’ of Brooklynn’s period. The thought of being stuck down there at her time of the month made him shudder.

“Thank goodness for small favors,” Teagan chuckled. Looking back to Kandi, “So what do you say to a little fun together?” she queried, eyes drifting down to Cam.

Eyes also on Cam, a smile blossomed on Kandi’s face as she nodded affirmatively.

From somewhere beyond the door, Cam thought he heard Oliver’s voice, then Sersei’s. Getting to his feet, he took a couple of steps in that direction.

Sersei appeared in the door, smiling though holding her lower lip between her teeth, “I am so incredibly horny right now,” she said, elongating the word so.

A shiver passed down Cam’s spine, freezing him where he stood on the table.

“Was that Oliver I just heard?” Brooklynn asked. “I like him.”

Stepping into the kitchen, Sersei nodded. Spying her diminished younger brother on the table, she approached, placing her palms on the surface, “Hey there little Camster,” she greeted.

Staring balefully up at his sister, he held his tongue.

Looking to Brooklynn, “You still having fun with him?” she asked.

Brooklynn shook her head, “I passed him over to Kandi while my uterus sloughs its lining,” she replied.

Smirking at Cam, “I heard there is nothing like a good hard fucking to relieve cramps,” Sersei stated, chuckling, eyes moving back to Brooklynn.

He wanted to yell at his sister, tell her to go fuck herself, but discretion compelled him to curb his anger. Why had Oliver been at the Omega house?

“Messy though,” Kandi said, scrunching up her face.

“You got any plans?” Sersei asked, moving to the side of the table and dropping into one of the other empty chairs, arms tucked under her breasts as she leaned back in the seat, eyes still intently on her brother.

“Teagan and I are going to spend some quality time with Cam,” Kandi answered, licking the corner of her mouth.

Sersei let out a big sigh before chuckling throatily, “Mind if I watch?” she inquired.

Kandi exchanged a glance with Teagan, who grinned and shrugged. Smiling, “Sure, if you want,” the redhead replied, the idea of performing for an audience making her damp between the thighs.

Cam shook his head. Why was Sersei being such a cunt? He wished more than anything their roles were reversed. He would tie her to his cock and fuck the shit out of every single Omega Pi’s ass he could find to punish her. Except the roles weren’t reversed. He was small, not her.

Looking at Teagan, “You ready?” Kandi asked, looking to Teagan.

The dark haired girl nodded enthusiastically, “Willing and able,” she answered exuberantly, getting to her feet.

“Don’t worry, I got the bowl,” Brooklynn said as Kandi pushed her chair back slightly and reached out to collect Cam before standing up.

Teagan and Kandi, Part 1

“Your room or mine?” Teagan asked, leading the way up the stairs, saucy bounce in her step.

Kandi chuckled, “Yours,” she replied with a huge grin.

To Cam, The location of the impending tryst was irrelevant he knew he was screwed. Literally and figuratively.

Trapped in the coils of Kandi’s closed fist, an ironic smile appeared on his face. His ‘mission’ was to fuck at least one Omega Pi girl, and now he was about to get worked over by his third.

Climbing onto the bed on their knees facing each other, Kandi dropped Cam down on the bed before kissing Teagan.

Stepping into the room, Sersei closed the door before walking over to the oversized plush chair in the corner of Teagan’s room. Relocating the menagerie of stuffed toys to the floor, she dropped into the chair, lifting her left leg over the round arm on her left.

Being on their knees, the focus of the girls’ weight compressed deep indentations in the mattress, forcing Cam to clutch at the fabric of Teagan’s vibrantly colored comforter.

Teagan dropped back onto her heels, eyes locating Cam, face blooming a radiant smile.

“Go ahead,” Kandi urged, nodding toward Cam.

Reaching down, the brunette picked him up carefully, thumb and forefinger around his torso as she brought him near her face.

Seeing her mouth opening wider, Cam instantly divined her intent and pulled himself into a tight ball. Sure enough, she took him into her mouth, the essence of yogurt lingering on her breath as her tongue mauled him, coating his body with her thick saliva. Unable to combat the sheer power of her dexterous tongue, he went limp, keeping his hands closed into fist to prevent accidently losing a finger between her large intimidating teeth.

Slathered in her spit and at the mercy of her tongue, he struggled to catch his breath in the blackness of her maw. Then there was another tongue, Kandi’s, occupying space inside Teagan’s mouth. He felt like a hapless piece of chewing gum, pulled and stretched back and forth between them as they kissed.

When Kandi withdrew her tongue, Cam tumbled over onto his back, body twisting and rolling down the spongy textured surface of Teagan’s tongue toward her throat. He couldn’t catch hold of anything or slow himself and suddenly he feared she meant to swallow him. The real notion of being swallowed alive by the girl filled him with dread. What horrors awaited him in her stomach? Panicked, he frantically tried to move away from her esophagus.

Bring her hand up to her mouth, Teagan coughed, Cam’s energetic movements tickling the back of her throat.

The space around compressed and he felt himself pitched forward, colliding with the back of her upper teeth.

“Sorry,” Teagan mumbled around Cam, shaking her head.

Grinning, Kandi peeled off her top, springing her large exceptionally well-shaped breasts free. Pressing them together, she dropped her chin and allowed a thin trail of clear drool to spill out on them, thumbs massaging the lick liquid over tight protruding nipples. Flopping onto her back, she beckoned Teagan with her right index finger.

Nodding, Teagan moved forward, head over the redhead’s firm tits. Puckering her mouth, she expelled Cam between her lips.

Falling free from Teagan, Cam dropped a half dozen feet onto Kandi’s smooth pale breast flesh, tucking and rolling down the slope and ending up in the shallow valley between the enormous pillows.

Hastily removing her own top, Teagan scooted forward and leaned down over the redhead, her more modest breasts mashed into Kandi’s as her hungry mouth locked around the other girl’s plump lips.

Pressed between two sets of breasts and unable to move, Cam felt like he was simultaneously being crushed and smothered. Add to that, he couldn’t breathe. Mercifully, Teagan broke the kiss, rearing back enough for Cam to refill his lungs.

Kandi shifted her hips, sliding her legs under Teagan and allowing the dark haired girl to straddle her.

Bringing her left hand over the swell of Kandi’s right breast, Teagan captured Cam by his right leg, jerking him off his feet before dangling over the hard nipple of the redhead’s left breast.

Hanging inverted, Cam twisted in Teagan’s grip, swaying back and forth until he grabbed the sides of the engorged nipple larger than his head.

Letting Cam fall, Teagan bent forward, mouth agape, covering both Cam and Kandi’s tit in her mouth, tongue pushing the tiny youth brusquely back and forth over the nipple and around the soft rose pink colored aureole.

Raising her head back up, Teagan left Cam mired in the liberal coating of saliva she had applied to the firm alabaster flesh.

Using Kandi’s hard nipple for support, Cam tried to stand, feet slipping out from under him and pitching his tiny body down the inside slope of her boob and onto the breastbone betwixt her sizable mammary glands.

Before he had a chance to orient himself, Teagan grabbed his right leg, dragging him down Kandi’s toned body leaving him on his stomach atop the redhead’s shorn pubic mound.

Rolling to his side, Cam raised an arm to cover his face as Teagan once again engulfed him in her gapping mouth, her tongue pushing him down into the pink cleft of Kandi’s sex.

Twisting, Cam tried to resist, fight back against the supremely more powerful tongue as Teagan started driving him into the opening of the other girl’s vaginal orifice. Unable to resist the brunette’s appendage, Cam shifted his body so that her efforts actually pushed his lower body and mid torso into Kandi before she withdrew, leaving his chest and arms free.

Her excited flesh clutching at him, trying to ingest the little youth, Cam thrashed from side to side and used his hands trying to push himself up and out.

Looking down at the comical site of the boy embedded in the Kandi’s pink pussy, “OMG, that look’s amazing,” Teagan tittered.

Getting up from the large chair, “I need to see this,” murmured Sersei, moving over the bed.

His sister coming into his line of sight, Cam ceased struggling.

“I would say little brother, you’re literally balls deep,” Sersei chortled.

“Bitch,” he seethed, loathing that she was there to mock him.

Reaching down with her left index finger, Sersei put it on Cam’s head, chuckling as she started pushing down on him, forcing him into Kandi’s snug depths.

Arching her back, Kandi tilted her pelvis and groaned.

Even as Cam vanished from sight, Sersei kept pushing, slipping her finger all the way up to the third knuckle into Kandi before slowly drawing it back, dragging with it sticky tendrils of vaginal lubricant as she pulled it free. Bringing her slick finger to her mouth, she arched an eyebrow before capturing the digit between her lips, tongue tasting the nectar mined from within Kandi’s ravenous sex. “Mmm,” she muttered, stepping back and returning to her seat.

Teagan and Kandi, Part 2

Vibrating with anger, Cam found himself tangled up amidst the ruffled folds deep inside Kandi’s vagina. Wriggling his body, Cam tried to find a space within the compressing slippery darkness that didn’t feel like he was being smothering to death. It didn’t aid his cause that it was already incredibly hard to breathe and the flesh around him seemed to undulate and expand.

Whatever it was Teagan was doing to stimulate Kandi, the space deprived and hostile interior of the redhead’s sex to continue to swell, the juices taking on the consistency of molasses and making it harder for him to even move.

Almost completely immobilized, “Fuck!” he yelled out into the sweltering darkness, his howl of indignant rage lost in the sea of biological noises Kandi’s body made.

Focusing on counting the beats of her heart, he tried to locate that safe place inside his own mind away from the unrelenting force of this gigantic girl’s lust. It might have worked if he could have regulated his breathing. As it was, the perpetual battle to get air prevented him from mentally escaping.

Time shifted into increments of inhalations and exhalations, the space between measured by the burning in his tortured lungs. How long could he survive?

Every time she moved, twitched or flinched, the muscles surrounding him contracted, squeezing him mercilessly inside the fleshly prison.

Suddenly there was a sharp digging pain in his left shoulder, a large fingernail gouging into the flesh there before harsh pressure around the upper portion of his left arm tugged at him. He thought for sure his shoulder would come out of its socket as Kandi’s greedy vagina clamped down on him, refusing to relinquish its prize.

Pulled free, he dangled suspended, skin puckering in the cool air outside the furnace of Kandi’s overheated privates. Then there was support under him, Kandi’s hand. The redhead shifting her body, face looming directly above him as he swiped at the congealing secretions on his face. Puckering her lips, she drooled a copious amount of spit down onto him, slathering him in warm gob.

Choking, he rolled to his side and coughed, the cleft in Teagan’s immense ass dominating his field of vision.

Cradling his saliva-slicked slippery body, Kandi moved him closer to the crack, aiming him toward the tight little pink pucker of the brunette’s anus. Using her right index finger to support his head, she pushed his face insistently against the crinkled flukes of Teagan’s snug asshole. Grimacing, Cam clenched his teeth as the sphincter grudgingly opened to permit his head passage into her rectum.

Feeling his face slipping through the crushing sphincter and into the heat dank darkness beyond, there was naught he could do.

Pulling Cam back out of Teagan’s behind, “Damn girl, you are tight,” Kandi chuckled.

Teagan giggled and wiggled her bottom, firm flesh jiggling nicely.

Leaning forward, Kandi drooled a string of saliva into the crack of Tegan’s butt above her anus. Spreading the slobber with her free thumb, Kandi eased it into the sphincter, encouraging the tight ring to relax and loosen.

“Mmm,” Teagan purred, pushing her ass back against the redhead’s penetrating digit.

“Feet first,” Sersei encouraged from the chair, leg once more draped over the arm, right hand inside her yoga pants.

Looking down at the captive in her hand, “What do you think Cam?” Kandi inquired, still massaging Teagan’s asshole with the thumb of her free hand.

“Don’t tease,” Teagan chided, bringing a hand up between her own thighs and playing with her engorged clit.

Cam didn’t know how respond. If he said no to feet first, would she try and cram him back in head first? He knew there was no third option. “Feet first,” he squeaked.

Flicking him around in her hand, Kandi rolled him onto his stomach and aimed the miniaturized boy’s feet toward the lubricated orifice.

Pointing his toes down, Cam started trying to time his breathing, feeling himself sliding through the opening and into the furnace beyond. The further in he went, the greater the constriction around his body. By the time he got into Teagan up to his chest, he found it super hard to get a full breath, the muscular ring crushing in on him.

Pushing with his hands did nothing except make Teagan flex, causing him even greater distress.

“Over,” Kandi said, slapping Teagan on the fleshy but, firm right ass cheek with a resounding smack.

Flipping onto her back, Teagan parted her legs wide.

From his position embedded in her posterior, Cam found himself now looking up over the girl’s perineum and add the glistening outer lips of her vagina.

Kandi’s shadow fell over him as the redhead lowered her mouth onto the brunette’s seeping pussy, sucking the delicate tissue into her mouth.

Teagan flexed, the pressure making Cam grunt. What would happen when she came? Could her asshole actually squeeze him in half?

The sensation of having Cam in her butt and Kandi on her pussy was driving Teagan crazy. Playing with her breasts, strumming diamond hard nipples, the brunette started breathing in gasps.

Fearing what would happen if the girl was going to let go, Cam raised his arms above his head, wiggling his hips. Almost as if in response to his efforts, the muscles inside Teagan began pulling him at drawing him down and into the girl.

Kandi’s fingers moving in and out of Teagan’s vagina, “Fuck my life,” Cam murmured and taking a big breath, face passing through the fluted flesh to the sound of her juices squelching out.

Cam, didn’t hear Teagan cry out in blissful climax, he did however feel her come. The sleeve of her rectum collapsed around him, forcing the air out of his lungs as it dragged the boy deeper into the murky blackness.

Breathing becoming agonal, Cam couldn’t get air into his lungs, mouth opening and closing to no effect. White flashes danced in his eyes and a whooshing sound filled his ears as darkness claimed him.

Stan

“I’m ready,” Samantha announced, standing in the open double doors of the garage, arms crossed.

On a creeper under the engine compartment of the jacked up primer gray 1968 Dodge Charger R/T, “Yep,” Stan acknowledged, pulling himself out from under the car. Sitting up on the creeper, he grabbed a grease rag and wiped his hands and looked up at her, “You seem chipper,” he commented with a smile.

Returning the smile, Samantha nodded.

Getting to his feet, he nodded back. It was good to see her more in tune with her usual self. The odd behavior from the other night, the morose delusion Oliver was gone or lost to her seemed to be a vague memory in the past. It would be good for her to get out. In the ten or so years Stan had been with her, almost like clockwork, she would get together with a gaggle of her former sorority sisters and they would go on some kind of trip. This year they were going to Whistler up in Canada, apparently within the context of supporting the UBC chapter of their sorority in Vancouver, British Columbia.

Tossing the grimy cloth rag onto the workbench, he walked toward Sam, “Did you get everything in the van or do you need a hand?” he asked.

“A hand would be good,” she replied.

“I’ve been thinking while you and the hens are away jeopardizing international relations with our polite neighbors to the north, I would drive down and spend the weekend with Oliver, do a little male bonding,” Stan advised, chuckling.

“Ah, have you checked with him yet?” she asked, ascending the stairs to the house and pulling open the screen door.

“Not yet, figured I’d run it passed you first,” he replied, stepping through the door and picking up Samantha’s suitcase and carryon.

“I think you should check with him first, I mean what with school and new friends and all, he might have already made some plans,” she countered, closing the door as Stan stepped back through with the luggage.

“Good point,” he replied, stepping down and walking toward the minivan. “I wouldn’t want to cramp his style just in case, you know what I mean,” he added, winking.

Samantha shook her head, “No matter how old they get, boys will be boys,” she scoffed.

“True story, at heart there is a little part of every man that never grows up. It’s why you girls love us so, figure you can train that little boy to be at your beck and call,” Stan retorted playfully, putting Sam’s luggage into the van.

“You have no idea,” she replied, voice trailing away wistfully.

“Oh I think I do and I also think that’s what got you all bound up the other day. We both saw how that little cunt Sarah messed with Oliver’s head and twisted him inside out. Now that he’s in a huge school surrounded by a swarm of females, you’re worried some gorgeous little vixen is going to wrap him around her baby finger,” he said, placing his hands on Sam’s shoulders. “Listen, he’s a good kid with a great big heart and it’s only natural to worry that he’s going to get hurt. He’s tougher than you give him credit for,” he finished, pulling her into a hug.

Disengaging from Stan, Sam turned away, not wanting him to see the tears in her eyes. Oliver was not hers anymore. In truth, he never had been. She had only been a surrogate for the sisterhood. It did not diminish the love she felt for him and the fate she knew was coming to him.

“It’s okay, go and enjoy yourself with your friends and I’m sure this will all pass,” Stan assured, closing up the van.

A sharp laugh escaped her lips and she shook her head. Feeling all maudlin and mopey when she herself was only moments away from going on a trip to participate in the exact same thing and share in the energy of another sister’s sacrificial progeny. How many times had she given herself to the ‘swoon’? Seven? This would be eight. She understood at once the meaning of hypocritical irony as it applied to the manifestation of emotion she was feeling.

Frowning, “What?” he inquired.

Sam shook her head again, “No you’re right. I’m sure all my misgivings will be forgotten once I’m with my sisters,” she replied. There was no pulling Oliver back from the brink, any more than she would cancel her trip. Collecting her purse, she climbed into the passenger seat of the van.

The ride out to the airport was quiet, which suited Stan. At the airport, a quick hug and kiss and she and a handful of the ’girls’ were off.

Returning to the van, Stan pulled out his cell phone, sending Sam an affirmation to enjoy herself and that what happens in another country stays there. He did not expect a response and none was forthcoming.

Tucking the phone away, he buckled up and started up the Grand Caravan. Pausing a moment, he pulled the phone back out and fired off another text, this one to Oliver. “Your mom is off and out on the prowl with the rest of her cougar pack, what do you think about me coming down that way for a couple of days on the long weekend?”

Stan’s phone lit up almost immediately, “That would be great. I can’t wait for you to meet Sersei,” came the reply.

“Sersei? Is she cute?” he typed back.

A slight fuzzy of a girl dressed in a tight pink t-shirt arrived. Stan got the vibe it had the look of one of those photos a dude sneaks when he thinks the girl is not looking.

Fuzzy or not, Stan let out a slow whistle, shaking his head and muttering, “Sweet Jesus.” Cute was an understatement, this girl could stop a clock. Big ole breasts aside, there was something in the girl’s big soft eyes so innocent and blue.

Oliver’s New Roomie

 Waking up beside Sersei had done wonders for Oliver’s headache, but it had left him an erection from hell. No matter how much he tried to banish her from his mind, she would pop right back into his head. He swore he could still taste the nectar she had touched to his lips.

Walking home, he hoped to God the university hadn’t assigned him a new roomie yet because he intended to abuse himself vigorously. Halfway home he got a text from Stan asking about getting together for the upcoming long weekend.

Fortune seemed to smile down on Oliver for the moment, because when he got back to the dorm he was still sans roommate. Calling up the same pic of Sersei Oliver sent to Stan, he took matters into his own hands and unburdened himself, twice.

After liberating himself, Oliver grabbed a shower, luxuriating in the feeling of dousing his skull under the hot water. The nagging little suspicious voice resurfaced in the back of his head as if dredged up from the recesses of his brain by the action of the rejuvenating spray. Cam got three wrists and enjoyed a little drink with the Omega Pi girls, now he was gone. Bear Briar got three, now he too was gone. Oliver looked down at the three bands encircling his wrist. What did it mean? The situation was definitely tied into that drink, no two ways about it. There was no way he was going to take another shot of that even if he had to make a show of coughing and droll that stuff down his arm. The way each of the wristband owners told him he belonged to Omega Pi, maybe the girls were operating some type of a white slave trade ring? He chuckled at the absurdity of the thought mind drifting to what Sersei might looked like garbed in form fitting leather.

Choosing not to give himself another happy, he shut down the shower and grabbed his towel, drying himself off mostly before wrapping the towel around his waist and returning to his room only to find the gods of accommodation giveth and then they taketh, he had a roommate.

“Hey,” he blurted, stepping into the room.

“Shit man, you scared me,” chortled the other boy, a tall rangy youth about Oliver’s height, spiky brown hair adding an additional inch.

“Scared you?” Oliver chortled, moving over to his side of the room. “I wasn’t expecting to find somebody in my room.”

“Good thing I wasn’t rifling through your stuff. I’m Deacon,” said the other kid, “I’d come over and shake your hand, but it could get weird,” he added with a grin.

“Oliver,” he replied, slipping on a pair of black boxer briefs before removing the towel and hanging it up. Grabbing his jeans, he stepped into the right leg, then the left and pulled them up, fastening the button.

“You look like you’re in pretty good shape. You lift? Athletic scholarship or something” Deacon asked.

“No, not really. Well, not in a gym anyway,” Oliver replied, putting on a white t-shirt.

“Shit, sorry. I probably shouldn’t just be sitting here gawking at you while you are getting dressed. Is that creepy?” inquired Deacon, making a scrunched up face before looking away.

Chuckling, Oliver took out a pair of white sport socks from the top drawer of his dresser and sat down on the edge of his bed, slipping them on.

“Originally I was told the dorm rooms were all assigned and last minute this one came available so I guess there was probably another guy in here before me,” Deacon surmised.

“Cam Crawford, yeah, he is a good guy,” Oliver supplied, keeping his answers short and concise.

Eyes back on Oliver, “So, if not in a gym, how did you get buff, like just good genetics or something?” Deacon queried, trying to get Oliver to engage in conversation.

Shrugging, “I worked on a ranch, bailing hay, general labor and grunt work, that kind of thing,” Oliver replied. “A lot of physical stuff.” He left out the part about learning how to box.

“What’s the deal with the pink bands there?” Deacon asked, pointing at the trio of rubber accoutrements encircling Oliver’s wrist.

Looking down, “These? I guess you could call them tokens or symbols of affection from some of the girls at the Omega Pi house,” he replied, slipping on his running shoes and tying the laces.

“For real? Omigod Pi? Shit dude, I heard those sorority sisters are the absolute hottest girls here on campus! Your Kung Fu is strong, you must teach me o wise one,” Deacon said with a mock solemnity, bowing forward and extending his arms.

Chuckling, Oliver shook his head, feeling a little bad about being standoffish. Was it because this guy was new and interloping in his space, or was it because it felt too soon after Cam? Either way, Deacon seemed like a decent sort. “It’s no lie, all the girls I’ve seen there are very pretty,” he confirmed.

Straightening back up, Deacon grinned. “I’m from up the coast Oregon way, Port Orford along the coast. How about you, where is this ranch you’re from?” he asked.

“Few hours north of here, inland, just a little out of the way place no one has ever heard of,” Oliver replied, running his fingers through his damp hair to straighten it rather than use a comb.

“Cool,” Deacon replied, nodding appreciatively.

And so the conversation continued for the next couple of hours, the two young men sharing personal information. While Oliver shared his own background, he learned Deacon was the eldest of five children for adoptive parents. His financial situation seemed to mirror Oliver’s, small scholarship, student loans, but Deacon would definitely need to find a job for living expenses. Speaking of job, Oliver need to get to work. He left Deacon with a promise to show him around the campus and surrounding area the next day.

The Night Before…

Sitting on the bus, Oliver Stared blankly out the window, gazing absently at the passing world until he arrived at his stop.

With Vesper secluded in her workroom in the rear of the shop, Oliver busied himself facing up existing stock on the shelves and tending to the handful of potential of customers who wandered in, making a few minor sales. Other than that, the evening was agonizingly slow.

At around seven, the door opened the little bell above ringing excitedly as an exceedingly attractive casually dressed woman entered the shop. About medium height, she was slender with grey hair pulled back. Given she looked around the same age as Vesper he immediately suspected the woman purposely dyed it as opposed to it being that color naturally.

Smiling warmly, “Hello, welcome Vesper’s Candles and Such,” he greeted.

Walking toward the counter, she met his eyes, hers being a vivid and bright green even in the weak light of the shop, “And who might you be precious one?” she asked, voice throaty.

“That is Oliver,” Vesper introduced, appearing from out of nowhere and placing a hand on his shoulder, startling him.

“Very handsome,” purred the grey haired woman, pulling a plump ruby red bottom lip back into her mouth and extending her hand.

Taking the woman’s soft hand, he shook it awkwardly before releasing it.

Intense green eye still on him, “Positively delicious,” she sighed with a soft chuckle.

Suddenly feeling very uncomfortable under her strong gaze, he turned away, feigning a cough into the crook of his arm.

The door opened, jangling the little bell again as another woman walked in, this one with light brown hair, streaked gold. “I’m parked just down the way,” she announced, eyes moving across the women and settling on Oliver.

Turning to the youth, “My friends are in town for a couple of days so I thought maybe I would close up early and give you the rest of the night off,” Vesper said with a broad smile.

Looking toward the ground, “Um, sure, okay,” he babbled, shrugging his shoulders, feeling very much like a deer in the company of wolves. Feeling the eyes of the women still upon him, he stepped around Vesper and made his way into the back of the shop, removing his apron and hanging it on its hook. He couldn’t quite pinpoint the sense of unease troubling him.

Pulling on his jacket, he returned to the front of the shop. “About tomorrow?” he asked, looking at Vesper and sliding his right hand through his hair.

She smiled. “Not to worry, I think you’ve got your hands full tomorrow night,” she commented saucily, eyes glancing down to the trio of pink band encircling his wrist.

The grey haired woman chuckled, while the brown haired woman brought a hand to her face to conceal a smile.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at the house then?” he said, walking toward the door out of the shop.

Vesper nodded slowly, “Assuredly so,” she replied.

“Nice to meet you ladies,” he said, ducking his head.

The grey haired woman half raised her right hand, waving at him with her fingers, while the other woman returned his nod, slight smile on her face. He didn’t get their names, but really he didn’t care.

Outside the shop, the air cooled as the sun slipped out over the ocean, Oliver shook his head and chuckled. Why did these women set him off? This wasn’t the first time he felt this one. Once or twice growing up he got the same sensation from some of his mother’s friends. Weird.

Checking his watch, he didn’t have to wait too long for the bus. Climbing aboard the public transit, he plopped into a seat, pulling out his cell phone and pursing his lips before bringing the device to life. Calling up Cam’s contact, he reread the last text message exchange where Cam addressed him as Ollie. At first, he was very suspicious because of the use of Ollie because Cam didn’t call him that, but could it have come from Cam?

Hemming and hawing, he typed in, “Is that you John Wayne?” referring to the line from Full Metal Jacket he and Cam had joshed about during one of their movie quote exchanges.

Not expecting a prompt response, when his phone vibrated, he nearly dropped it. Swiping the screen, a smile split Oliver’s face when he read the reply, “Is this me?” It was the right answer.

Thumbs flicking across the phone’s keyboard, he composed another message. “Dude, it’s good to hear from you. You have no idea. Your sister told me you were attending a family obligation, is everything okay?”

“I’m a little, overwhelmed? Feel like a small man up to his armpits in the shit, you know what I mean? Lol,” came the reply.

“I feel ya, so, speaking of your sister, I got my third wristband and I think she‘s the one I would most like to go out on a date with, I just thought it was only right to let you know, the standup thing to do,” he answered back.

“So chivalrous, but neither of you need my blessings,” was the response.

“No warnings? Admonitions about keeping my hands off your sister?” Oliver typed back, remembering all of the warnings about her being a she-devil. With no forthcoming response from Cam, the phone’s screen went black. He hoped the abrupt conclusion of the conversation wasn’t because Cam was upset at the notion of him taking Sersei out on a date. He decided not to push the issue, waiting a while longer before slipping the device back into his pocket. Abbreviated as it was, at least he felt reasonably sure he had spoken to Cam this time.

Getting off the bus back at the university, Oliver returned to the dorm and made his way up to his room where he was greeted by a very good rendition of Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here opening acoustical guitar sequence.

Sitting cross-legged on his own bed, Deacon had an Epiphone DR-100 Dreadnaught acoustic guitar with a vintage but worn sunburst finish on his lap, though he stopped playing when he spied Oliver. “Hey roomie,” he welcomed, setting the guitar to the side.

Grinning, “That was cool, you play very well,” Oliver said, kicking off his shoes and tasking a seat on is bed.

“Music scholarship,” Deacon replied with a semi-shrug. “I’ll try to keep it down to a ruckus,” he assured with a grin.

“It’s all good,” Oliver replied, holding up his hands.

“I’m hoping to maybe do a little busking and generate a little cash on the side,” Deacons said, climbing off his bed and placing the guitar into a weathered case.

“Maybe during our walkabout tomorrow we can target a few high traffic spots?” Oliver suggested.

“Dude that would be sweet, I appreciate it,” Deacon said, fastening the clasps on his case before sliding it under his bed.

Preparations and an Unexpected Guest

Back in the privacy of her own room, Sersei lay back on her bed and let out a slow heated breath. There was no denying she enjoyed a certain perverse delight gained from watching Kandi and Teagan play with her brother, his little body swallowed up by their lust and used to elicit pleasure from her sisters. Not that she necessarily wanted him in that same way, though she felt there would be a certain thrill to simply dominating him with her sex as a means to put an end and exclamation point to their childhood sibling rivalry.

Thinking of all the scrumptious things she intended to do with Oliver kept her on the edge of release, inner thighs sticky as she slid her hand back under the elastic waistband of her pants. He would be hers for seven blissful days before rite required her to surrender him to Cerys. Given the raven-haired girl’s notoriously brutal use of little ones, she doubted Harmony would even get an opportunity this time around to play with Oliver, though maybe one of the others might give her a shot with one of the other three males collected this semester.

The phone on her bedside table buzzed. Cam’s phone. It was a message from Oliver for her brother. Opening the message with her free hand, she immediately recognized the quote from the movie, not because of the movie itself, but because of a parody on YouTube where someone had hilariously synchronized this very dialog to a cartoon from the 60’s.

She got the impression they, meaning the sisters, had screwed up the last time when trying to assuage Oliver’s concerns over Cam’s sudden departure, though she wasn’t sure how. Whatever it was, this time, she seemed to get it right. She found Oliver’s need to be honorable with Cam about his intentions for her adorable and kind of sweet. Rather than get too in depth, she chose to keep the exchange short and sweet, all the while teasing her wanton aroused loins as she envisioned him, fingers touching the soft overheated and swollen flesh at the juncture of her thighs. Under different circumstances, he might have actually been an amusing boyfriend. As it was, such was not be and in just one more day, he would be hers, to have, to hold, and fuck as she desired. How would she take him first? Should she play with his hope and chase him around a little before feeding him to her hungry cunt? Should she pretend to be mortified and play the role of a distraught girlfriend? Either way, she hoped Oliver wouldn’t be quite so maudlin as Cam had been about the whole thing. While amusing, it had almost been embarrassing to see him recede within himself. No, Oliver would be different. She just felt it deep inside herself just like she also knew he would make an absolutely exquisite toy.

Setting Cam’s phone back on her night table, she slid her hand out from her pants, fingers slick with her juices. Spreading her fingers together and apart, she giggled at the strands of clear fluid clinging to her fingers before taking the digits into her mouth and sucking them clean.

Twisting to her side, she pulled her fingers out and sat up on the edge of the bed. Tomorrow could not come soon enough but she knew she would have to wait.

The preparations for the ritual itself were essentially all in order, except word had come down that aside from the usual handful of Omega alumni who would participate in the reaping, Edith Frost would also be attending.

There were stories aplenty about the reigning number two in the entire Omega Pi organization. Some say she was actually a founding sister when the sorority officially chartered in 1888. Others stories say she did not require the weeping stone to harvest the energy from the bequeathed sons pledged to the sorority. Whether there was any truth to the claims, Sersei didn’t know. What she did know though was that given Miss Frost’s exalted position within the sisterhood, she was entitled to Prima Eligendo, the First Choosing, meaning if she chose to exercise her authority, she could take Oliver as her own regardless of Sersei’s or any other sisters’ claim. Fortunately, to her recollection the First Choosing had not been enacted in recent memory, though that fact did little to assuage the anxiety gnawing at the back of her mind. What if the old girl decided she wanted Oliver? Would she get Oliver back when she was done or would she get her band back to make another selection? Truth be told she really wanted Oliver.

Letting out a sigh, she got up off the bed and exited her room, ambling down to the bathroom to relieve herself bumping into Melody in the doorway.

“Hey Mel, how’s your little Bear holding up?” Sersei inquired, turning sideways to permit the slighter girl to pass.

Weak blush clinging to her cheeks, Melody chuckled and shook her head, “Remarkably and surprisingly resilient. He’s hibernating right now,” she replied, gently patting the crotch of her stretchy black exercise pants. “Hey I heard Edith Frost is coming to our house. Have you heard anything about it?” she inquired, curious expression on her face.

Shrugging her shoulders, “Vesper didn’t really say much about the purpose of the visit, basically just that she’s coming to oversee Oliver and Kent,” Sersei replied.

Melody nodded, dirty blonde hair bobbing, glum expression on her face. “I guess you
Cerys, and Harmony are pretty nervous then?” she queried. “Maeve, Julianna, and Elisha too for Kent?”

Sersei manufactured a grin, “I don’t think so, you know it is what it is and there’s not much I can do about it,” she stated, spreading her hands apart.

“If it does happen, I’ll make sure you get a chance to play with my little Bear,” Melody assured.

Sersei smiled, “Thanks, I appreciate it. Anyway, I got to pee, so,” she said with nod and ending the conversation before entering into the bathroom. There was a measure in the words she had spoken to Melody. If the venerated Edith Frost decided she wanted Oliver, they was naught she could do except accept it.

Oliver the Tour Guide

True to his word, After Oliver completed his morning ablutions he took Deacon out for a tour of the school’s massive grounds. Crossing the open expanse of the Commons, Oliver spied Brooklynn out for her morning jog. Raising a hand, he waved at her. Seeing him, she altered her direction, running toward the two boys.

“Holy shit! Are you for freaking real right now? That girl looks like an angel descended from heaven,” Deacon declared, bringing his right hand to his mouth and gnawing on a knuckle.

Oliver laughed, “She is definitely a beauty,” he agreed, eyes like Deacon’s, glued to Brooklynn as she approach, wide smile of her exceptionally pretty face.

“Hey Oliver,” Brooklynn said, pulling up in front of the two boys, swiping a hand across her damp brow.

“Brooklynn,” he replied, grinning at her, “this is my new roommate Deacon,” he introduced.

Up close, she was even more devastatingly gorgeous. “Ah, er, hi,” Deacon babbled, tripping over his tongue and averting his eyes.

Fully cognizant the heat of her presence was having on the lad, she giggled, “Hi Deacon,” she replied.

Checking his watch, “Isn’t it a little early for your usual morning run?” Oliver inquired.

Patting her midriff, “Trying to keep Mother Nature’s curse at bay,” she replied, expression turning glum.

After a momentary pause, both boys seemed to clue in. “Oh, oh,” said Oliver, grinning feebly through his awkward discomfort. Deacon remain silent.

“Tonight’s your big night eh?” she asked, smile returning to her comely face.

Oliver grinned sheepishly, “Yeah.”

Reaching a hand up, Brooklynn cupped Oliver’s cheek, “Sersei is going to be one lucky girl,” she stated, giving him a sly look.

Color bloomed in Oliver’s face, “No, it’s not like that,” he babbled shyly.

Brooklynn chuckled, sweet, not mocking, “Sersei is a formidable young woman and it’s okay for you to feel, how do I say this properly, a little, no, a tiny bit anxious,” she said, dragging the tips of her fingers across his cheek as she removed her hand.

The electric sensation of her touch left Oliver speechless.

“Anyway, it was nice to meet you Deacon. Oliver, see you later tonight, maybe,” she said with a wink, “but I have got to get moving again,” she added, bending from side to side before resuming her run.

Speaking emphatically, “Dude, whoa,” Deacon nodded his head once. “She is even more gorgeous up close,” he breathed reverently.

Oliver nodded in agreement.

“I would literally give one of my nuts, probably the left one to get inside that girl’s panties, you have no idea,” Deacon proclaimed, admiring Brooklynn’s exquisite body as she departed.

Eyes also on the retreating form of the blonde girl, Oliver laughed, “Now you sound exactly like Cam,’ he compared.

“Who is Sersei, and what did she mean see you later? Dude?” Deacon asked, turning to face Oliver once Brooklynn vanished from sight.

“Sersei is Cam’s sister and I sort of won a date with her,” Oliver replied, lifting his arm and shaking the wrist with the three bands encircling it.

“The tokens you spoke about? You lucky bastard,” Deacon congratulated, envy dripping in his voice. “Tonight?”

Oliver nodded.

“How does that work?” Deacon asked fervently.

“Well the girls give you a band and when you get three you win a date with one of those three, at least I think that’s how it works. Cam got three and Bear got three,” he explained.

“Your former roomie got three? I thought he checked out?” Deacon queried.

Oliver nodded, a pensive look crossing his features, “He left abruptly. I have no idea whether or not he even got to go out on his date. Sersei said Bear blew out his knee the night he got his third,” he verbalized, mind trying to connect the dots.

“And now you got three? On the one hand, Omega Pi, on the other, seems like those bands are tied to calamity,” Deacon expressed, holding his out palm up as if weighing the options.

Oliver turned his head to the other boy, “Yeah,” he said softly, nodding slowly.

“Maybe those beautiful little honeys are so voracious, they sexed the other guys into a coma, god what a magnificent way to go,” Deacon breathed, closing his eyes.

“Hey, funny you should say that. If some weird circumstance crops up and for whatever reason I don’t come back, I should give you my cell number,” Oliver suggested.

“By weird circumstance, do you mean like in congress with your lady friend Sersei?” Deacon said with a snicker.

“Just call it a precaution, and we should like have a code of some type, you know, like dialogue from a movie or something. Not Full Metal Jacket though,” Oliver recommended.

Deacon chuckled, “I got one. I’m navel lint, I’m not worth a bullet,” Deacon said.

“What?” Oliver asked, not recognizing the line.

“True Lies? Bill Paxton? Come on. What about you? What quote would you use?

Oliver seemed to ponder the notion a moment then grinned, “Deserve’s got nothing to do with it,” he replied, doing his best Clint Eastwood impression.

“Is that from The Outlaw Josey Wales?” Deacon asked, raising an eyebrow.

Oliver snorted, “Unforgiven,” he answered. “At least you got the right actor.”

“Okay, I guess we got a code then, navel lint, and deserve,” Deacon stated, wobbling his head from side to side. “You want to trade digits?”

Oliver nodded. “Actually, let me give you mine and I’ll give you my stepdad Stan’s too, just put it as my business phone on my contact information, or home phone, whatever, just in case you can’t get through on my cell,” he said.

Within moments, the two had created contacts for one another. As they continued their walk, each boy espoused the virtue of the movie from which they had extracted the quote, which led to a broader discussion between which actor enjoyed a better or more popular movie career, Arnold Schwarzenegger or Clint Eastwood.

A Little Something for the Big night

This being Oliver’s third time attending one of these little get-togethers there were no surprises. It unfolded as expected, including the drink he was pretty sure was laced with something. Making it look like he was quaffing down his drink, he bent forward and twisted to his side and made a show of pulling up his left sock, while actually spraying the amber colored liquid against the inside arm of the chesterfield and the seat cushion. Sitting back, he fake swallowed, all the while watching to see how Kent responded to the drink. As for the girls, they continued to behave as if nothing were amiss, except for the occasional furtive glance as if checking on him and the other boy.

Kent just seemed to go catatonic, eyes open, but a definite vacancy behind his eyes. Oliver followed suit, glassy eyes, dull expression, mimicking the other boy’s limp posture. None of the girls seemed affected by the drink in any way, chittering more to themselves. What happens now?

Sersei appeared before him, snapping her fingers near his face, “Oliver?” she inquired.

He remain quiet.

Grinning broadly, she took his hand in hers, pulling him up into a standing position.

Maintaining a docile demeanor, he allowed himself to be led by her out of the room and into the kitchen before she took him down a set of stairs leading down into the basement.

Where was she taking him? Was this all part of the ‘ritual’? He wondered if perhaps this was some of hazing or some such practice, though he was pretty sure the university had forbidden it. Down a short corridor, Sersei led him into large square room illuminated by candles and populated by approximately a dozen women wearing burgundy colored hooded robes, though all had their hoods back and robes undone revealing naked bodies underneath. He recognized a couple of the girls from the house, many of the other women were strangers to him. On a bit of a raised platform stood Vesper, flanked by the two women he met in the candle shop the night before. Sersei vanished from his field of view.

Suddenly he felt very self-conscious, awkward under the scrutiny of so many sets of eyes. He was half-tempted to just put his hands up and come clean. Did they do this to him before when they ‘roofied’ him? There was no sign of Kent. Maybe they did it one at a time. Very strange.

Sersei returned, wearing an untied robe identical to all the others. It required special effort to not gawk at the substantial cleavage between her large breasts or the taut tummy above her smooth hairless sex. Swallowing hard, he kept his eyes level as she begun to undress him. Cerys and Harmony moved in and began assisting the blonde. Oliver was pretty sure if there wasn’t a crowd of semi-naked female onlookers, he would be sporting major wood. He figured they would probably stop once they reached his skivvies, but nope, they removed those too. Once he was completely undressed, the trio of beauties began washing him with warm lavender scented water, gently, tenderly, each retrieving her wristband.

Once the girls completed washing him, Sersei guided him to the end of the raised rectangular stone slab inset into the floor. Gently, she lay him down on his back, the coolness of the stone making his flesh pucker slightly and forcing him to consciously refrain from shuddering.

Turning to face Vesper and the two other ‘overseers’, “He is prepared,” Sersei announced, vanishing from his field of vision.

Prepared? For what? Was she going to mount him here? In front of all these other females? Being naked was one thing, getting intimate in front of spectators was a completely different matter. If she tried, he would put an end to this little show. Hot or not, he would not make love to Sersei and put on some type of sexcapade for the voyeuristic pleasure of the attending women. Nope.

Instead, Vesper spoke some words in a language he thought might be Latin or some variant thereof. Energy enveloped his entire body, his fingers and toes tingled. That was weird. Out of his periphery, he could see all the women drop down to their knees, throwing back the robes. This was getting out of hand. Was Omega Pi a sex cult?

There was a point of warmth somewhere between his navel and his groin, growing outward, not uncomfortable. The numbness crawled up his arms and legs. That was it. He had enough and decided he was going to put an end to their little hazing ritual, except he found he couldn’t move, not even a finger. He could still feel everything tactilely as the sensations migrating through his extremities all seemed to be focusing on the point of warmth in his belly and expanding. There was a rushing sound in his ears droning out whatever Vesper was saying. Panic gripped him and he wanted to yell out, but it was like his vocal cords were paralyzed and the words in his head couldn't find their way to his tongue. Prismatic bursts of color exploded in his vision blotting out the features of the room. The reservoir of heat building in his belly erupted up and out, rushing out of him and he got the sense he was falling back into an abyss. It was hard for him to describe the sensation, like he was pouring out of himself. Lungs contracting, he couldn’t catch a breath.

The deafening whooshing noise subsided, forcing Oliver onto his side. Gasping, he greedily sucked sweet incense scented air into his oxygen deprived lungs while the flashes of color filling his eyes became less intense. He was lying in a shallow pool of water, no more than a puddle. Sitting upright, he tried to focus his eyes, make sense of the vague shapes slowly coming into focus. As the obscure shape became more distinct, he shook his head in disbelief.

“What in the world?” he mumbled under his breath, pushing himself up onto his feet and turning slowly to survey his surroundings.

He knew with certainty he was still in the basement room of the Omega Pi house, except the scale was unimaginable. Beyond the now wide open expanse of floor was the ring of women attending the ritual. Even down on their knees, bared bodies naked perfection glistening in the flickering candlelight with heads thrown back, they were immense. Although he could easily see their chests rising and falling, all of them were immobile, like enormous perfect polished statues.

“How?” he murmured, his voice sounding high pitched in his own ears. The little voice in the back of his head told him how didn’t matter, just that he needed to get out. As if on cue, his adrenal gland dumped a full dose of adrenalin into his system.

Looking over the edge, he nodded to himself, while it appeared pretty far he figured the drop was probably not much different than jumping out of the barn loft at the Denman ranch. Taking a couple of steps back, he breathed deeply to steady himself before getting a running start and launching himself over the edge.

Looking for Higher Ground

Hitting the ground, though nowhere near as hard as he expected, he rolled perfectly, coming up onto his feet fluidly and running, leaving tiny little wet footprints in his wake. For whatever reason, none of the women around the circle moved, or even seemed to take note of him. Not that he cared, the only impulse raging in him was the instinctual imperative to flee. Passing between an incredibly huge Cerys and another lady he didn’t know, he scurried toward the door. Fortunately for him the lone door leading of the room was partially ajar, giving him more than ample space to sneak out and into the hall. Skirting the edge of the plain white baseboard at the bottom of the wall, he tried to retrace his path back toward the stairs. How much time did he have before the women came out of their trance or whatever the reason was they weren’t moving? Didn’t matter, pure survival instinct pushed him forward.

Reaching the base of the stairs, he paused and looked up, counting fourteen, each riser more than twice his height. He suspected they would look for him in the basement. If he could get up the stairs, it might buy him some valuable time to figure out just what was going on. With enough speed, he might be able to springboard upward enough to catch the lip of the stair. Maybe. Running directly at the stair, he leapt, pushing himself upward and getting enough height to easily grasp the leading edge of the step. Pulling himself up, he climbed back up onto his feet. “Lucky thirteen to go,” he muttered, repeating the process. Stair after stair he climbed, arriving at the second to last, he heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching and an unfamiliar female voice from the other side of the door directly above him, “Come on, they’ll be coming out of the swoon shortly.”

Scurrying forward, he pressed himself into the corner of the stair, back to the riser, heart thundering in his chest as he craned his head to look up over his shoulder.

The creaking of grating metal on metal rang in his ears as the door opened and light from the kitchen spilled down the stairs.

“Sersei is so lucky,” cooed another voice. Brooklynn? Was that Brooklynn?

The first girl snorted, a massive foot dropping down onto the step in front of him, “What are you complaining about? You had Sersei’s brother,” she said.

“Abbreviated, on account of my stupid bloody uterus,” Brooklynn replied.

Another foot flashed passed, going to the step immediately below him, “I’m sure Kandi will give another go round with him before handing him off to Allie,” advised the girl, taking another couple of steps.

Another stockinged foot appeared, Brooklynn’s, “I wouldn’t mind a little fun with Oliver though,” she said with a sigh.

Oliver’s mind screamed, ‘WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?’ as Brooklynn passed directly over top of him. Run.

Before the duo of giant-sized girls reached the bottom of the stairway, Oliver was pulling himself up onto the lip of the main floor near the gap under the door leading into the kitchen. Getting down on his stomach, he slid partway under the door, peeking out into the kitchen proper. There was another huge girl at the sink, her back to him.

He knew any moment Brooklynn and her friend would discover him absent and that the luxury of time was something he did not possess. There was no way he could make it to one of the appliances near the sink. Going back toward the front of the house, or using the set of back stairs to get up to the second floor seemed to be his only options. If there were still some of the girls in the sitting room, they would see him for sure. He needed to get out of sight. Crawling out from under the door, he ran as fast as his little legs would carry him to the narrow stairs. As before, he scaled the stairs, hoping and praying none of the house ginormous residents would use them. Luck was on his side, though there appeared to be a commotion arising out of the kitchen below him.

Ascending the stairs, he paused at the top to catch a quick breath. Like the stairs, the floor was a dark polished hardwood, with a runner carpet down the center. There was one door to the right side, two on the left before the hall turned to the right. There was also a slender curio table against the wall between the two doors on the left.

Beelining for the nearest door, he heard the booming sound of feet coming rapidly up the stairs behind him. Nearing the door, he dove headfirst, like a baseball player trying to beat a tag, sliding through the gap under the door and into darkness beyond.

Feet silhouetted by light emanating from the hall flashed by as whoever it was traipsed passed.

Rolling onto his back, he lay there in the darkened interior of the room, chest heaving as he fought to catch his wind. There were so many questions in his mind, not the least of which was how could the girls possibly do this? Was he hallucinating? Was this all part of the drink they fed him? It had to be, like the 1960’s government giving unsuspecting college students LSD or something. Had to be, because shrinking people just wasn’t possible, practically or theoretically. Right? Right? There could be no other plausible explanation, except he didn’t feel doped, or drowsy. What did they do to him? Bringing his hands up, he examined them in the diffuse light seeping in under the door. They looked normal. He wiggled them and touched each finger to each of his thumbs. Nothing strange. This was too weird, too completely bizarre. With the adrenalin wearing off, he suddenly realized his nakedness and vulnerability. Cam! Brooklynn and her friend talked about Cam. Was this what happened? Did they do this to him? Like so many other things, it didn’t make any kind of sense. Why would Sersei allow this to happen to her brother, or worse, lie about it to cover it up? What about Bear? Was the brute around here somewhere too? More questions than answers.

Where O Where Has My Little Lamb Gone?

The swoon was at an end, the hold over the women released. Eyes closed, Sersei slumped forward, residual sensations danced across her sweat slickened skin as she pulled her robe up onto her shoulders. Bit by bit she returned to herself as the paradoxical sense of pain and pleasure subsided in her body, though the roaring in her ears would take a few hours to pass.

Blinking a few time to encourage her eyes to focus, the sisters all around her appeared to be in similar condition, except she spotted Brooklynn and Monroe near the altar engaged in what looked to be a fairly animated conversation with Vesper.

Struggling up onto unsteady feet, she walked toward the trio, eyes drifting over to the slab. Weren’t Brooklynn and Monroe supposed to be attending to the post swoon logistics?

“What’s going on?” she croaked, her voice hoarse, throat raw, mouth dry.

Turning to look at Sersei, Brooklynn pursed her lips and shook her head, “Oliver, he’s gone,” she said, spreading her hands apart.

“Gone? I don’t understand,” Sersie said, touching a hand to her sore throat.

“We came to get him to do the impression and relocate him to the box, but he was gone,” Monroe provided, shrugging her shoulders.

Eyes narrowing, Sersei glanced over at Edith Frost.

The grey haired noticed the look, “Relax girl, had it been my intent to claim your little prize, I would not stoop to abduction,” she replied, a wry smile on her flawless face.

“Where is he?” Sersei asked, though the question was more rhetorical than directed at anyone in particular.

“There has never been a case where the offering has been entirely consumed, so he must be here someplace,” Vesper replied, frowning.

Around the room, other sisters were getting to their feet. Cerys approached, expression fierce, “What seems to be the problem?” she demanded peremptorily.

Neither intimidated nor willing to accept the curt tone, “Quiet yourself girl,” Edith chastised sternly, expression conveying her displeasure.

Cowed, Cerys remained quiet.

“Perhaps you should check on Harmony while we try to unravel where young mister Haynes has gotten to,” Vesper said to Sersei, nodding toward the slight girl still sitting on the ground.

Knowing there was no point brooking Vesper, Sersei nodded, walking over to Harmony and crouching down.

Looking up, face pale, “I feel like I want to throw up,” Harmony said.

Placing a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder, “The first time can be a little rough,” Sersei commiserated.

Harmony shook her head, “I…,”

“Come on, let’s get you up on your feet,” Sersei encouraged, slipping a hand under Harmony’s arm and helping her stand.

Still shaky, Harmony steadied herself by putting a hand on Sersei, “I don’t like this,” she babbled, swiping her free hand across her damp brow.

Crouched down beside the slab. “Here, I think I’ve found something,” Monroe exclaimed, looking over to Vesper and pointing down at a set of seven tiny white footprints, each getting progressively fainter leading away from the slab toward the door.

Several of the sisters gather around Monroe.

“Salt prints,” Vesper said, nodding, a slow smile spreading over her face.

“Sorry?” Monroe replied.

Pointing at the drying pool of Oliver’s perspiration on the slab, “Salt print from drying sweat,” she explained.

Several heads turned to look in the direction of the print’s orientation.

Making sure Harmony was able to stand independent of support, Sersei left the other girl and came over to Monroe, kneeling down to examine the little footprints. Turning to the door, “He’s somewhere here in the house,” she said, voice rising as realization dawned on her. Getting back to her feet, she pushed through a couple of others and hurried toward the door.

“Well now, doesn’t this add a little bit of flavor to this evening’s festivities,” Edith offered with an amused chuckle.

“Oliver?” Sersei called out, eyes scanning down low for any signs of movement. Several other filed out into the hall, eyes searching.

“Come on out Oliver,” Brooklynn coaxed, “you really don’t want to get accidently stepped on.”

“She’s right Oliver, there’s really nowhere you can go sweetie,” Sersei added, glancing at the stairs and frowning. There had been a couple of incidents where little ones had gotten away from their caretakers and managed to get down stairs, but up, could he have possibly found a means or way up the stairs?

Following Sersei’s eyes, “You don’t think he could climb the stairs do you? We didn’t see anything when we came down,” Brooklynn said.

Vesper appeared in the hall, “Girls, you need to spread out and look for him. Chances are he’ll still be somewhat discombobulated and more than likely wrestling with what has happened. My guess is he hasn’t gone far and is probably holed up,” she instructed, giving directions.

“Finders keepers?” asked Cerys, a sly grin on her face as she pulled her long dark hair back.

Vesper turned to look at Edith for a ruling.

Bringing a finger to her lips, the grey haired beauty tapped it a couple of times thoughtfully, “I think for now the selection order will remain as it was, though special consideration will be given to the sister who finds our wayward little Oliver,” she stipulated.

Inwardly, Sersei let out a huge sigh of relief knowing if Cerys got dibs on him, no one else would likely get a shot on account of her penchant for swallowing little ones when she was finished using them.

Touching Vesper lightly on the shoulder, “May I retire?” Harmony inquired, perfect unblemished skin still pallid.

Smiling at the teenaged girl, “Of course dear,” Vesper permitted, “just be mindful where you step until we’ve managed to recapture Oliver,” she added.

“Thank you,” she replied shyly, sliding passed other a couple of girls down on all fours looking for the boy.

Climbing the stairs out of the basement, she entered the kitchen before using the house’s rear access stairs to get to the second floor and the room she shared with Omega Pi’s only other freshman pledge Acacia.

Dilemma

When Harmony pushed into the room, her roommate was sitting on her own bed, legs up and crossed, tablet on her lap absently chewing on a loose strand sandy brown hair with a few fading blonde streaks through it as she checked out her Facebook.

“Oh my gosh! Is it over? How did it go? I you know, well, geez you look, um, not well, I mean, you look great, but, not well, does that make any sense?” Acacia queried, putting her computer to the side and shuffling off the bed.

Holding up a hand, Harmony shook her head, “I, I feel awful,” she said, eyes seeking out the room’s garbage pail.

“Really?” Acacia inquired. “To listen to some of the older sisters tell it, it’s supposed to be wonderful, transcendent even,” she commented, pushing her glasses back up on the bridge of her nose.

Smiling weakly, “I don’t know if that’s the word I would use to describe. Right now, I just feel, I don’t know, almost oily, greasy. I just want a hot shower,” Harmony stated, removing her ceremonial robe and putting on her bathrobe.

“Okay, but you have to share all the details when you get back,” Acacia said around a smile.

Grabbing her shower kit including a towel, Harmony shuffled down the hall to the bathroom and started the water for the shower.

Her mother had said the swoon would be a coming of age, her initiation to the mysteries of the sisterhood, so why did she feel this way? Looking at the mirror above the sink, she turned her head side to side and examined her reflection. There was something different about her, some indefinable quality she couldn’t quite describe. Steam from the shower coated the mirror, blotting out her face.

Removing her robe, she hung it up next to her towel and climbed into the shower, the water hot to the point of near scalding as it sprayed over her lean body. It felt good. Dousing her hair, she pulled her head out of the water, flicking her hair back over her shoulder. In the water, her sense of equilibrium began returning, that and something else. There was a hunger burgeoning between her thighs. Turning her back to the spray, she let the hot water cascade down her back. Why was she getting so horny? Was this also part of the swoon? She was not a virgin, but the potency of the aching sensation between her legs was new, and it was unbelievable. Caressing her wet breasts, she traced a hand down over her taut wet stomach, finger dancing lightly over her hungry sex. The sensation was electric, banishing her ill feeling and promising euphoria.

Oliver flashed in her mind, and immediately she wondered after him. What had happened? Given the way the others were behaving, his disappearance was not something any of them expected or anticipated. Suddenly she felt a stab of guilt, realizing the blissful feelings coursing through body were undoubtedly a result of the rite. She thought of herself as a vampire of sorts, stealing his life from him. Sersei had casually twinned the ritual to little more than smoking a cigarette with what was left akin to nothing more than a butt to be disposed of.

Harmony felt torn. On the one hand, there was an obligation to her mother, but on the other hand, Sersei’s cavalier explanation seemed morally repugnant.

The furnace between her legs demanded attention and almost without knowing, her hands were down there, fingers bringing her toward oblivious release.

Turning back into the jet of hot water, she put her hands on the walls and leaned her face into the spray. Why was she so bloody aroused?

A disturbing thought occurred to her. The three boys involved in the reaping were all sons of Omega Pi mothers, just like her younger brother Linus. He was only a year younger than her and her mother was already talking about sending him here. Was this the fate awaiting him?

Stepping back from the water, she shook her head. Was her mother expecting her to lead Linus to the slaughter like Sersei had led Cam? She couldn’t, wouldn’t. She had practically raised Linus and loved him. There was no way she could imagine him small. An image of a diminished Oliver popped into her mind.

From out of nowhere, she imagined him inside her rapacious sex, a slave to her hunger, at the mercy of her pussy. Unexpectedly, an orgasm tore through her body, washing over her like a tidal wave, buckling her knees and dropping her to the floor of the shower as the water continued to beat down. Hands delving between her thighs, she could feel her pelvic contractions pushing out the slippery and milky cream of pleasure, lost quickly in the shower like tears in the rain. Never before had ever experienced such an intense release or climax. Surrendering herself to the passion, she bit down on her lower lip to choke back a scream of wanton delight.

Panting, she leaned against the tiled wall of the shower as the tide of pleasure began to ebb.

Pushing herself back up the wall on wobbly legs, she hastily finished her shower, foregoing shampooing and conditioning her hair. Toweling off, she returned to her room to find an eager Acacia hungry for details.

What should she tell the other girl? Lives of the innocent were being destroyed for the pursuit of self-indulgent lust? If she did tell the truth, would Acacia keep her trust or relay that information to Allie? Vesper? Or the grey haired lady everyone seemed fearful of? If they thought she was a liability, would they harvest her and make her tiny? She found the notion scary.

Stripping off her robe, she put on her oversized white nightshirt with the unicorn rainbow design and padded over to take a seat on Acacia’s bed. Seeing how avidly Acacia wanted details, she put a smile on her face, sharing the basic elements of the events of the evening, including Oliver’s escape. Of her true feelings, she kept silent, so too about the hollow ache lingering between her thighs.

A Port in the Storm

Oliver knew he was still far from being safe as there was no guarantee when the owner of the room might or might not return. In the weak light of his surroundings, it was obvious to him he was in one of the girl’s bedrooms, giant oversized fuzzy bunny slippers near the door, notwithstanding. There was no way in creation he could out distance these girls now that he was so small, no, he needed to outwit them, out think them if he was going to try and find a way out of this situation.

The only logical course of action for him was to hide in a spot no one would think to look. But where? Probably some place up high where he could surreptitiously monitor the room, but not so difficult as to get in and out of if necessity required. There were several pieces of furniture he could choose from to hide under, a dresser, a desk, a mirrored vanity, a large double doored wardrobe, as well as a nightstand beside the bed, but as for on top, none seemed an ideal choice. The desk maybe. The only way to tell was to get up there and check it out. Heading directly toward the desk, over the area rug dominating most of the floor, he circled around to the side to look for a means of climbing the desk. Behind the desk, several cords hung down and plugged into an electrical power bar, the red light of the surge protector flickered balefully, providing him hellish colored illumination.

Walking closer, he tracked the path of a cord up onto the desk, taking the thick cord in his hand. It was bigger than he could get his hand around, but small enough he figured he could skinny up like a small tree. Getting a leaping start, he wrapped his legs around the cord and started pulling himself up hand over hand.

Nearing the top, the whole room was suddenly awash in light causing him to arrest his ascent.

“No I agree with you,” said an unfamiliar a female voice, tone low.

“Right?” replied another female voice, this once belonging to Maeve, the stuck up girl he and Cam met the first time they came to the Omega house.

There were some sounds of shuffling, feet drawing closer to his location. “What about Miss Frost?” the girl unfamiliar to him asked.

“I can’t say why she came to our charter,” Maeve replied, “but I suspect it was because there was some suggestion Oliver’s mom might have been having second thoughts about giving him over and she was here just to make sure ever went as it was supposed to, but that’s just hearsay.”

“I hope that’s the case because I really don’t want her to take Kent,” lamented the unknown girl.

“Maybe she just came to participate in the harvest,” Maeve opined.

There was a knock on the door.

“Yes?” Maeve asked.

Hanging on the cord and still unable to see, it sounded to Oliver like she got up off her bed and walked toward the door. There was a creak of metal on metal from the hinges.

“Oh good, you’re both here,” said a voice he recognized as belonging to Allie.

“We just got back from getting Kent squared away,” Maeve replied. “Why?”

Allie sighed, “there’s been sort of a, a situation involving Oliver,” she replied.

“Was it Miss Frost, did she take him?” asked the girl he presumed was Elisha.

“No, no. He escaped into the house,” Allie informed.

“Escaped?” Maeve queried.

“How?” Elisha asked amidst a chuckle.

“I don’t know how Oliver was able to get loose. Vesper says she thinks he probably slipped the dose and played possum, though we’re not quite sure yet, but we are looking for him,” Allie extrapolated.

“Do you want us to help search?” Maeve inquired.

“No, it’s okay we have enough sisters searching for him, but I do want you two to be aware and keep your eyes open just in case,” Allie requested.

“For sure,” Elisha acknowledged.

“Yeah,” Maeve agreed.

The door clicked and Oliver heard Maeve returning across the floor.

“Holy shit, Sersei must be pissed!” Elisha breathed.

“Fuck, I’ll say,” agreed Maeve emphatically.

“Cerys too I’ll bet,”

Arms beginning to ache, Oliver pulled himself closer to the top of the desk, slipping over the edge near the back behind a pile of books and other clutter. Lying on his back, his mind reeled. His mom knew this was going to happen to him? And she let it? But why? Digging into the recesses of his mind searching for answers, it dawned on him he had seen the gray haired woman before, but when he was little, no more than four or five years old. They had been planning this for years. The profound sense of betrayal left him feeling hollow, empty and tears threatened to spill down his cheeks. How could she? Did Stan know? No. The whole telephone conversation made sense now. She brought him here for the sisters of Omega Pi. Hurt turned to anger, anger to rage. He wanted to unleash a scream of anguished fury.

If they could do this to him, they could undo it. But how? He resolved to find a way.

He wanted to put faces to names, not that it mattered much, because he knew there were no friendlies here, not Sersei, not Vesper, no one. Choking down the bitter taste of broken faith in his mother, he crawled into a position where he could overlook the girls without them seeing him in return.

Maeve he recognized, dark brown hair swept back up off her face and into a bun at the back of her head. The other girl, Elisha, long platinum blond hair almost white pulled back into a ponytail. So pretty, so malevolent. Put aside the utter impossibility of being able to shrink some, why would they do this? Surely, someone would come looking for him. Right? What possible story would the girls concoct to explain his disappearance? Deacon. Deacon was his only hope now. Deacon could get Stan involved. Stan could get the cops on the case. It was only a matter of time before someone would come looking. All he had to do was keep out the clutches of the giant sized girls.

Forward Momentum

The duo sat for a while longer before Elisha announced she was going to turn in. Maeve rose and walked the other girl to the door, the pair sharing a hug before Elisha departed.

With the blonde gone, Maeve let out a breath before reaching up and letting out her hair, dark locks spoiling down her back and over her shoulders as she ran her hands through it.

Keeping completely still, Oliver remain quiet as a church mouse, eyes tracking the gigantic girl’s movements as she walked back over to her bed. Picking up her phone from her bed, she looked at it, chuckling softly before setting it down on her nightstand. Crossing the room to the dresser, she picked up a small travel case and exited the room.

He wasn’t overly happy with his current hiding spot, though adequate, it was definitely not ideal for any extended period or should anyone actively search the top of the desk. For the moment, it would have to suffice as he got the impression Maeve’s return was imminent and he didn’t dare want to try to get out and inadvertently risk being exposed or vulnerable.

There were so many variables gnawing at the back of his mind, not the least of which the awful realization of how insidious the machinations of the sorority. Wounded heart aside, how long before the girls in the basement expanded their search to include the first floor? The second floor? For all he knew, maybe they already had. If he was able to avoid detection for any extended period of time, he would also need access to a supply of food and water. At his diminished size, much easier said than done.

The door opened and Maeve stepped back into the room, dropping her little carryall on the vanity, pausing to examine her own reflection.

From his concealment, Oliver had a clear view of the enormous dark haired beauty as she put her hands in her hair and twisted her hips from side to side. There was no denying she was achingly beautiful. He chuckled softly to himself, murmuring, “You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.” Th

Lowering her arms, Maeve unfastened the button on her black jeans. Wiggling her hips, she slid them down her thighs, revealing a thin black thong as she bent forward and stepped out of her pants. Crisscrossing her arms, she grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and drew it over her head, gigantic round breasts supported by a delicate black bra.

Turning to the side, she checked her profile in the mirror, placing her hands on her trim tummy. Satisfied, she bent down and picked up her pants from the floor, walking directly toward where Oliver lay hidden.

Has she spotted him? No way. It took considerable effort for him to fight the impulse to try and flee. Pulling up almost over top of him, Maeve draped her pants over the back of the chair at the desk before reaching her hands up behind her back to unfasten her brassiere.

Removing her bra, she set her pert perfectly shaped breasts free, small wine stained colored nipples. From Oliver’s perspective looking upward, they were massive, faint blue veins visible through translucent pale flesh.

Setting the bra atop her pants, she turned and walked toward back to her bed, fetching a long night shirt from her beside her pillow and slipping in on over her head before going back to the vanity and picking up a bottle of fuchsia colored nail polish.

Perching at the edge of her bed, she spent the next half hour applying polish to her toenails before playing on her phone waiting for the polish to dry.

Getting fidgety, Oliver rolled onto his back. What time was it? Mentally trying to calculate how much time had transpired since he arrived at the house, he surmised it must be somewhere around ten o’clock. Did time move differently now that he was small?

Finally, after an indeterminable amount of time, Maeve climbed into bed, extinguishing the light. Oliver maintained his position, giving his eyes an opportunity to adapt to the darkness before returning to the cord and using it ‘fireman’ style to slide back to the floor. Uncertain whether or not Maeve was asleep, he remain stealthy, circumnavigating the room and using as much cover as possible to get to the door. Once at the door, weak light from the hall filtering in, he darted across the threshold so that he was at the hinge side and drop down low to peer out.

Although the illumination wasn’t too bright, there was essentially no good place to hide and any attempt he made to get to the next room would leave him vulnerable to discover by anyone walking up the stairs or down the hall.

There was light shining out from the door across the hall and he couldn’t tell about the other door further up on the same side as him. Around the hall’s corner, there was another door, and it was dark underneath. It was a long ways away with no idea what lay around the corner. Add to that, Allie had gone around to the residents of the house and told them he was on the loose. Shelter, food, water.

Surmising, hoping, most of the girls were still on the lower floors looking for him, he made the decision to go. Counting to three, he rolled out and up onto his feet burpee style, staying tight to the baseboard molds and running up the hall. Eyes glued to the lit space under the door across the hall, he glanced ahead, able now to see the soft glow of light bleeding out under that portal. Changing direction, he scampered across the floor to the other lit door, making sure to stay on the side opposite the doorknob. Dropping low, he peeked cautiously under the door, surveying the room. Another bedroom, an interior room devoid of any windows, but a little larger appearing than Maeve’s, and at present devoid of a giant girl. To his left, a bed along the wall. The light in the room came from a small lamp atop the desk directly across from him, a dresser, a vanity, a laundry hamper. Unlike Maeve’s room, this one also came equipped with a closet and a corner curio stand sporting an assortment of stuffed plush animal toys with oversized eyes. Maeve’s room had been cluttered, but neat, while this one seemed just generally untidy.

There were the sounds of movement from around the turn in the hall. Unable to determine if the sounds were approaching or not, he crawled under the door and into the room, moving left and into the shadows under the bed.

Waiting several minutes, eyes fixed on the door, no one entered. Relaxing, he decided to explore this room.

Luck Be a Lady Tonight

The lack of fastidiousness of the occupant of this room worked out well for Oliver, discovering an empty snack sized pack of Gilbert’s Trail Mix, empty save for a couple of peanut hearts wedged in the crease at the base of the foil tube. Although just about twice his height in length, the cylindrical pack was narrow. Moving around to the unopened end, he grabbed ahold of it and gave it a good hearty shake trying to dislodge the little morsels trapped there. Two of the discarded little nut centers broke free, tumbling down the tube and out of the torn open end of the package.

Smiling, he dropped the pack and walked over to examine his newfound bounty, picking up one in each hand, the size comparable to what a softball might have been prior to the shrinking.

As much as he wanted to just devour them, he didn’t feel comfortable remaining out in the open. As much as he wanted an elevated vantage point, his eyes settled on the lowest shelf of the corner curio where there two plush toys, a black and white skunk, and a penguin, each about the size of an elephant to his perspective. Approaching, there appeared to be a noticeable accumulation of dust on each of the toys suggesting to him that perhaps they had not been disturbed in a while. Corner location, good sight lines, definite possibilities.

The lip of the bottom shelf was over his head, meaning he had to toss the two peanut hearts up onto it before reaching up to grasp the edge of the shelf. Pulling himself up, he collected his food, and slid between the two plush critters into the hollow behind. There was certainly enough room for him there and again it was ideal to monitor activity in the room. Food, shelter, now all he need was a supply of water and he would have an effective temporary base of operations while he tried to find a way to unravel this thing the girls had done. Why would they make him small? What possible reason could there be? If there was no resolution, or the situation persisted, with classes due to begin shortly, the house would practically be deserted during the daytime next week, granting him greater freedom to explore the house.

Taking up an advantageous position, he sat down and started in on one of his peanut hearts, eating it judiciously, taking only a couple of bites before setting it down. He suspected he wouldn’t be quite so fortuitous locating water. While there might be a bathroom located somewhere on the floor, getting to a faucet or water source was going to be problematic. Thinking about made his mouth feel dry and the peanut wasn’t helping things.

Maybe this wasn’t the first time they had lost someone. Would they stake out places to get water? Maybe it might have been more prudent to have stayed on the first floor. He chuckled. Worrying about it now was a little like worrying about the corral gate after the horses were gone. No point. He was secure here now and he had some high protein food. He would give it a few hours and hope the house quieted down some before attempting to resource some water. Although water was tantamount, he began compiling a mental list of other things to be on the lookout for like rope or some type of pouch for carrying items.

The door swung inward and Melody bounced into the room, giggling and using the doorknob to pivot back toward the door, “No, no, it’s all good,” she chuckled, closing the door and laughing some more.

Shifting his position, he slid to the side of the skunk to gain a better view.

Leaning her back against the door, she tucked her thumbs into the front of the elastic waistband of her Lulu Lemon,  leaning her head forward, “If you should go in the woods today, you’d better go in disguise,” she said, her voice singsong.

 Oliver frowned. The Teddy Bears’ Picnic?

Pushing herself off the door, she sauntered to the center of the room, pushing her tight black pants down to the floor before stepping out of them. Patting the front of her lime green panties, “Time to come out and play little Bear,” she chuckled.

Shaking his head, Oliver pursed his mouth. What in the heck was she doing?

Using her left hand, she drew her panties out and away from her crotch, reaching her right hand inside her panties and out of Oliver’s sight.

“What are you doing?” he inquired, leaning forward.

When she lifted her hand out of her panties, Oliver gasped, pushing himself backward. Between her thumb and forefinger, she held a tiny limp and naked figure by its leg.

Little Bear? Was that Bear Briar? It was! Oliver’s eyes widened. Why would she keep him there?

Skipping toward the bed, she set Bear down and began rapidly removing her clothing.

Staggering to his feet, Bear raised his tiny hands in an effort to forestall the libidinous girl.

To Oliver, there was no doubt the little football wanted none of it. He could not even begin to wrap his mind around what he was witnessing and he found the prospect disturbing.

Now naked, “Silly Bear,” she laughed, climbing onto the bed, scooping up the little figure and flopping over on her back and out of Oliver’s line of sight except for her feet.

Sliding back behind the stuffy, Oliver swallowed hard trying to imagine what Bear must be experiencing. Any sounds the muscled bound jock might make were drowned out by Melody as her playful giggling transitioned to more primal moaning and gasps of delight.

Looking at his own hands, Oliver suddenly felt very small. Was this what Sersei had planned for him? He would be completely at her mercy, her whim and helpless to do anything to stop her. But why? Why would they do such a thing?

Melody came with a squeal before the room became quiet.

Oliver hoped she was done for the night. She wasn’t.

Sersei the Persistent

Down on her knees, bum on her heels, Sersei rested her hands on her hips. Where the fuck was Oliver? There was literally hundreds and hundreds of places to hide in the basement and he was in none of them. He had to have made it up the stairs. Just because Brooklynn and Monroe didn’t see anything on the stairs didn’t mean he hadn’t gone that way.

Walking over to the stairs, she tried to envision little Oliver adeptly scaling the stairs climbing to the main floor. He would have been small enough to get under the door easily enough. Where would he go from there?

This part of the house would have been foreign to him and he would have been running scared. Would he have attempted to try and get across the floor to one of the appliances? Unlikely, considering there were still several sisters in the sitting room down the hall to her left.

Turning her head to the right, she looked at the stairs leading up to the second floor. Crouching down, she traced her fingertips along the leading edge of the first step. Did he go up this way? Top of the stairs would put him basically outside Maeve’s door on the left, Melody’s a little further up on the right and lastly Teagan’s room was at the bend. Teagan was downstairs helping search, but the others would more than likely be up there.

Ascending the stairs slowly, she looked carefully for some indication of possible passage to confirm he might have come this way. A couple of steps from the top, she side sat the stair, looking along the floor of the hall. Given the Spartan nature of the hall there was nowhere he would have been able to hide. Maeve’s room was dark but light still shone under the door to Melody and Teagan’s rooms. Were Maeve and Elisha back yet from dropping Kent off? Checking her watch, she nodded, had to be.

Getting up, she walked to Maeve’s door, rapping lightly. Receiving no response, she rapped again a few moments later, this time a little louder.

The door opened partway, Maeve running a smoothing hand through her disheveled head of hair, “Sersei?” she said, yawning.

Smiling, “Hi Maeve, I suppose you’ve heard things didn’t quite go as planned with Oliver,” she said.

“Allie told us,” replied the dark haired girl.

“I think he might have come up this way,” Sersei stated.

Maeve frowned. “Up both flights of stairs?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Sersei nodded slowly, “I know it’s late, but would you mind if I took a look to see if he might be trying to hide here in your room?” she asked politely.

Reaching over, “Sure, I guess, Elisha and I didn’t see anything when we got back, but go ahead,” Maeve replied, clicking on the overhead light before backing away from the door to allow Sersei access.

“You are a peach!” Sersei stated, smiling gratefully and stepping into the room. “Do you have something to block the door with in case we flush him out? I don’t want him rushing out into the hall.

Nodding, Maeve grabbed one of her bath towels and handed it to the blonde.

Crouching down, Sersei carefully blocked the open space under the door. There was no chance he could sneak out of the room. Turning, she rested her elbows on her knees. “If you’re in here Oliver, come on out sweetheart,” she said sweetly.

Maeve folded her arms under her breasts. “There aren’t too many good places he could hide in here,” she said.

“She’s right Oliver. The only way out of the room is blocked so you might as well just come out,” Sersei invited, shaking her head slowly.

After several minutes of fruitless searching, Maeve stood back up, “I don’t think he’s in here,” she concluded.

Sersei nodded, “I think you’re right, but I’m going to ask Allie if she will let us blockade the doors with towels and do a room to room search. The towels will prevent him from moving from room to room and let us isolate him,” she said, rocking back onto her heels.

“Smart,” Maeve praised.

Getting to her feet, “I really appreciate you indulging my request,” Sersei expressed, smiling graciously.

Maeve waved a hand, “I know you would do the same for me,” she replied, picking up the towel from the hook on the door.

Exiting the room, Sersei made her way back downstairs looking for Allie, finding the brown haired girl on the main floor.

“I think Oliver may have climbed the stairs, then used the back stairs up to the second floor or tried to hide somewhere on the main floor so I would like to block the gaps under all the doors and do a room by room sweep to try and find him,” Sersei stated.

Allie nodded slowly, “Prudent,” she remarked. Spreading her hands, she then shrugged her shoulders, “You know there might be some push back,” she replied.

“Cerys,” Sersei stated, nodding her head and pursing her lips. Edith had decreed the order stood and there was no way Cerys would risk open defiance toward the woman, but that didn’t mean she might not delay in reporting she had found him.

Allie also nodded.

“Cerys is Cerys and there’s not much I can do about her, but I would still like to implement the search if you would allow,” Sersei petitioned.

“Sure, I’ll let the others know and you’ll probably want to get started sooner than later I presume,” permitted the chapter president.

“Yes please,” Sersei replied.

Checking her watch, “It’s getting late, but I’ll let it be known,” she stated.

“Thank you.” A slow smile crossed Sersei’s pretty face as she left Allie and went downstairs to get an armful of the Omega Pi booster towels. The noose was tightening and it would only be a matter of time before she had hot little Oliver in her hands.

When It Rains…

Three orgasms into the night, Melody finally seemed finished with her tiny little toy. Shuffling to the side of the bed, she swung her legs over and sat upright, pushing her seat dampened hair back off her face before retrieving the limp form of Bear from between her slick thighs.

“Looks like little Bear is all sticky from playing in the honeypot,” she said in a childlike voice, bringing her hand up near her face. Taking Bear’s legs between her lips, she took hold of him, lowering her hand leaving him hanging motionless between her lips.

From his point of view, it was all so surreal witnessing what Melody was doing as she slurped Bear into her mouth the way someone might a noodle. Was she going to eat him? The thought frightened him. No. Bringing her hand back up, she drooled him back out into her palm before bending over and retrieving her lime green panties. Depositing Bear in the gusset, she twisted the panties back in on themselves and cocooning the tiny youth inside.

Slipping off the bed, she hung the wadded up panties from the bed atop the headboard. “You just hang in there while I go freshen myself up,” she instructed, perspiration slick skin glistening in the lamplight as she collected her bathrobe. Stopping at the door, she turned and blew a kiss toward Bear before exiting the room.

Oliver did not have much use for Bear Briar, but to see him used thusly filled him with the urge to intervene. Pushing between the two stuffed animals, he walked to the edge of the shelf and looked up at the suspended youth. Oliver just couldn’t envision a means to help. The panties Bear was hanging in were far out of his reach. There didn’t seem like any feasible way he could, first, get up to that level, and second, free the burly youth from the panties themselves. Add to that Bear appeared completely inert, like Melody had literally fucked the life out of him. Dead weight.

There was a knocking on the door, the sound making Oliver jump and scurry back between the penguin and skunk. The knock repeated. After a couple of seconds, the door opened.

Eyes narrowing, Oliver watched Sersei poke her head into the room.

“Mel?” she asked, looking around.

Seeing Sersei, he knew she was more than likely looking for him. It made his blood run cold and his lip curled up. He rarely thought of ladies in a derogatory sense, but right now, the word bitch flashed neon in his mind.

“Dammit,” muttered the blonde, closing the door.

The door opened again about fifteen minutes later, Melody stepping into the room, dressed in her robe, a towel wrapped around her head. Setting her little bag of showering supplies on the desk, she glanced over at Bear, smiling as she sat at her vanity. Reaching up, she used the towel to dry her hair, but leaning to the side, she took it and wrung it out, sending little droplets of waters free falling and splatting on the hardwood floor in little puddles.

Oliver frowned, his expression pensive. If he could somehow collect some of that, it would solve his need for water for a couple of days. What to put it in? That was the problem. A thought occurred to him, the toothpaste cap. There was a hollow on the top of it. Could he use that? Did she even use toothpaste? He would have to wait.

After wringing out her hair, she picked up a brush and began running it through her hair creating a few more sizable puddles for him. He hoped she didn’t swipe a towel through it to mop it up. Once she finished brushing, she set it down and got up from her vanity, walking to her dresser and opening it.

Turning back to prisoner in her used panties, “What do you think Bear, is tomorrow a blue day?” she asked, holding up a pair of skimpy cyan colored panties. There was no response from the bound Bear.

Shucking her robe and tossing it onto her chair, she giggled, “Blue it is,” she stated, sliding into them. Walking to the bed, she reached out and picked up the roll of cloth containing bear, unraveling the youth. Pulling out the front of her fresh panties, she slid the unconscious bear down the front feet first and adjusted her passenger before casting her soiled green underwear near the hamper along the wall near Oliver. Clicking off the light, she slid into bed.

Listening to the sound of her breathing, he ventured out of his hiding place, darting stealthily across the floor toward the chair of the vanity. Kneeling down, he cupped his hands and scooped up some water into his mouth, ignoring the mild taste of hair conditioner and drinking greedily. He hadn’t realized how parched he had been.

Scaling up the electrical cord behind the desk, he crossed over to the little bag full of stuff for Melody’s nighttime routine. Fortunately for him, the zipper on the little cloth bag was not fastened making it easy for him to gain access. Inside the darkened interior of the bag was a veritable treasure trove of materials.

Rubbing his hands together, he couldn’t help but smile looking at a pair of fingernail clippers, dental floss, toothpaste tube, disposable razor, makeup remover, tampons, eye shaped pads, Q-tips, tweezers, and two colored plastic hair clips.

First thing he did was drag the disposable pink Lady Bic razor near the stainless steel fingernail clippers, placing the edge in the sharpened jaws. Pressing down with all his might on the lever of the clippers, he snipped the plastic end off of the razor. Using the nail file, he dislodged the more than half his height aluminum blade. Again using the clippers, he sniped the blade to a more manageable length, the aluminum edge breaking favorably and giving him a semblance of a handle.

Next, he mounted the red and white tube of Colgate, straddling it. Grasping the fluted edge of the office wastebasket sized cap, mentally expressing gratitude it was not one of those flip top caps, he flexed his muscles, trying to unseat the cap, surprised when it unthreaded easily from the tube. Careful not to let it fall, he eased it off the toothpaste, the smell of mint almost overpowering. Setting the cap down, he moved next to the square container of Johnson & Johnson’s waxed dental floss, the lid open. Pulling out what amount to him to be fifty or so feet of floss, he sliced it with the makeshift machete he created out of the razor. He then cut a smaller piece of the waxen material and wrapped it around the blade to fashion a crude grip.

Peeling the layer of gauzy material off the eye pad, he laid it flat. Placing the toothpaste cap in the center of the flimsy material, he pulled up the edges and fashioned a pouch of sorts in the same vein as an old hobo’s travel bag. Looping some floss around it, he left enough to loop it over his shoulder opposite the long length of floss.

Grabbing his windfall, he climbed back out of the bag. If his luck held, Melody wouldn’t discover what he had done until the following night and by then who knew what kind of trouble Deacon might have been able to stir up in his absence. Sliding down the electrical cord, he backtracked to the chair near the vanity, untying his tote and placing the cap down near one of the pools of water. Scooping water into the recessed top, he filled it and carried it back to the corner shelf, hefting it overhead and pushing it onto the surface. Rather than climb up himself, he trotted over to beside the garbage can and the discarded trail mix wrapper, using his blade to carve out a piece of foil large enough to cover the top of the toothpaste cap to delay evaporation. Jogging to the corner shelf, a small smile played at the side of his mouth, for the moment, he had shelter, food, and water.

Setting the cap in the corner, he place the foil over it before walking between the two stuffed animals and looking toward the bed. As much as he wanted to aid Bear, and he actually did want to help, he knew it was a fool’s gambit.

Rambling Man, Gambling Man

Using the layer of eye pad, Oliver wrapped around himself and curled up for the night. His attempted slumber was fitful at best, jerking awake every time Melody moved. When he did truly fall asleep, it was borne of fatigue and he crashed hard.

It wasn’t until the sound of Melody moving around the room the following morning that roused him from his dead slumber. The bedside lamp was on, but without a window in the room or a clock he could see, he had no idea what time it might be. Stretching, he yawned and scrubbed his eyes as the enormous girl exited the room.

Was it morning? He needed to pee. Walking to the edge of the shelf, he yawned again and started to urinate onto the carpet below. Mid-stream, Melody stepped back into the room carrying a white towel with pink lettering. Grabbing his penis to choke off the piss, he remain immobile, eyes riveted to the girl, fearing any movement might inadvertently catch her eye.

“What was this doing across my door?” inquired Melody, a quizzical expression on her face.

Another girl appeared through the door. Teagan. “Sersei brought them by last night to contain Oliver. She thinks he might have made it up the stairs so in case he did she wanted to trap him in a room until each of them has been searched,” she answered.

Melody nodded slowly, “Okay, I get it now,” she said.

“Then once the room has been searched, the towel will seal off your room until she has tracked him down. Both Sersei and Cerys cleared the main floor and have been scouring the upstairs for him and there are only a handful of rooms left to search, yours being one of them,” Teagan stated.

Melody pursed her mouth and shook her head, “He better hope Sersei finds him before Cerys,” she said.

Oliver swallowed hard, a sense of impending dread twisting his insides. All either girl had to do was look his way and the search would be over.

“Miss Frost decreed the order of possession holds, so it doesn’t matter which one of them finds him, Sersei still has dibs,” Teagan explained.

“Lucky for him, well sort of,” Melody offered, moving back toward the door and motioning Teagan out before stepping out into the hall herself.

Letting out a long slow breath, Oliver finished relieving himself. It would seem his run of good fortune from the night previous had run its course. It was only a matter of time before Sersei or one of the other Omegas came to the room intent on finding him. Shifting back between the two stuffed plush toys, he glanced at his little hideout. In two seconds flat, they would know he had taken up residence there.

Drinking his fill from the toothpaste cap, he slid the loops of floss over his shoulder and put his peanut heart and a half in the gauze. He needed to move, conscious time was rapidly running out.

The towel was jammed into the space under the door, though under the hinge side near the jamb not very tight. Probing the material, he found he wriggle through, using the door and towel as a cover to peek out into the hall. Glancing down the hall toward Maeve’s room, there was another towel at the bottom of her door. Had they searched there yet? He didn’t know. One thing he did know was that they hadn’t searched Melody’s room yet and he needed to get out of there before they did.

Up the hall, or back down toward the kitchen? Either way, his degree of exposure put him at high risk of capture. Rolling out, he chose the devil you don’t know and moved up the hall. Reaching the corner, he leaned out to look down the corridor, several doors on either side, some with towels, some without. Darting across the hall, he rushed to the first door without a towel, only to find the gap under it blocked from the inside of the room.

A door opened and Melody appeared in the hall.

Pressing himself under the door against the towel, he watched she approached.

“Mel?” Squirreled away as he was, he couldn’t see the speaker but there was no mistaking the voice, Sersei.

Melody stopped next to the door he was under and turned back. “Oh hey, Teagan said you wanted to check my room for Oliver,” she said.

“Please,” Sersei replied sweetly.

The door above Oliver suddenly opened inward, dislodging the towel and dragging him partway into the room, the rough underside of the door cruelly scraping the skin of his bare chest. Wincing through the pain, he pushed at the dislodged towel, able to pull himself the rest of the way under the door.

“I thought I heard voices,” said a female voice belonging to Brooklynn.

Ignoring the red scrapes discoloring his chest, he shifted his possession and homemade machete before employing all haste to skirt along the baseboard and find refuge under the tall dresser adjacent to the wall.

“He’s up here, I feel it,” he heard Sersei say with a menacing chuckle as he ducked into the shadows around the nearest dresser leg.

“So no luck yet?” Brooklynn inquired, leaning against the side of the door.

“Just a few more rooms and I’ll have him,” Sersei said confidently.

Oliver grinned slyly.

Noting the running apparel, “You’re not planning on going out for a run are you? Vesper and Miss Frost are here and there’s going to be an all house meeting in a little while,” Sersei informed.

“Crap. My period is pretty much done and I was looking forward to a good hard run,” Brooklynn complained.

“After maybe,” Sersei countered.

“Maybe,” Brooklynn replied.

“Do you want to go look at my room?” Melody asked.

“Sure,” Sersei replied, exchanging a few parting words with Brooklynn.

Closing her door, Brooklynn crouched down, tucking the towel securely back under the door. Satisfied, she grabbed her rolled up yoga mat and unfurled on the floor in the center of the room. Sitting on the mat, she started limbering up and stretching.

Leaning against the dresser leg, Oliver slid down into a seated position, examining the raised welts on his chest. While he had successfully eluded Sersei and whoever else she had looking for him, he did have to abandon his only supply of water. A half ass search of Melody’s room would reveal the toothpaste cap, which would lead the searchers to her shower kit confirming his presence on the second floor. Maybe Sersei’s confidence wasn’t overly cocky? How long could he play this cat and mouse game in a house full of cats? “Come on Deacon,” he whispered aloud.

Tightening the Noose

Strumming the fingers of her left hand staccato fashion on the leather arm of the chesterfield in the sitting room, Sersei looked down on the findings from Melody’s room on the coffee table. There was no dispute about the nature of what the girls had found in the little shelving unit, evidence confirming her assertion Oliver had indeed managed to get up to the second floor.

Crossing her arms, Allie leaned back in her chair, eyes drifting over the faces of the thirteen other sisters assembled in the room, before falling on Edith Frost standing next to Vesper near the rear of the room, a bemused expression on the gray haired woman’s flawless face as she watched on.

Clearing her throat, Allie looked back to the girls and addressed the gathering, “Thus far, our little friend Oliver has demonstrated a certain degree of crafty resourcefulness to remain, and forgive the pun, at large. Sersei and Melody found these items in Mel’s room. He was there. He may have duped us and enjoyed some additional liberty but this game ends now. I want him caught today. We will block both stairways and do a coordinated and systematic search of each and every room. Given his diminutive stature and the fact this is a big house, there are innumerable places he might try to hide. Add to that, it looks very much like he has fashioned himself a makeshift blade out of Mel’s razor,” she instructed.

“A little homemade prison shank,” Gianna sniggered, causing several of the other girls to giggle.

Allie held up her hand. “Funny or not, with this little tool of his, he might try to cut through the cambric lining under mattresses looking for clever places to hide, or curtains, or whatever so be vigilant and look for any slices that might seem out of place or you hadn’t noticed before,” she instructed.

“Aren’t the doors upstairs all blockaded?” Kandi inquired.

Allie nodded, “Including Melody’s, except he wasn’t there which means he might have moved before the towels were put in place meaning he is probably trapped in one of the rooms,” she explained.

Blue eyes narrowed with intent, “So how do you want us to do this?” Sersei asked.

“Like I said, two search parties, three girls in each, one to either side or either end of the hall, one girl posted on the back stairs, another on the front. We’ll go room to room until we find him,” she instructed.

“I’ll lead one of the search parties,” Sersei volunteered declaratively.

“Sharing Sersei’s personal interest in finding Oliver, I’ll guide the group of searchers,” Cerys quickly supplied, a partial smile on her face as she flicked Cam’s sister a glnce.

After a moment of consideration, “Fair enough,” Allie conceded, assigning Harmony and Teagan to Sersei’s group, Acacia and Maeve to Cerys. Directing Brooklynn to warden the large main stairs, she posted Monroe to the rear.

Brooklynn raised her hand, “Any chance I might be able to get a run in?” she asked, smiling big at Allie.

“I’ll watch the front stairs, I don’t mind,” Elisha piped up, enthused by the notion of the hunt.

Putting her hands together in supplication, Brooklynn made big eyes and mouthed the word please.

“No” denied Allie, “you and Monroe were assigned overwatch last night and missed Oliver during his escape. I want you on the stairs,” she added.

Letting out a breath of resignation, “Fine,” she conceded.

Nodding, Allie swept the room with her eyes, “Any questions? No? Then let’s go find our wayward little friend,” she instructed.

As the collective sisterhood was getting to their feet, “You want to start at one end and meet in the middle?” Cerys inquired.

“Sure,” Sersei replied. “We’ll start in the back,” she added quickly, motioning with her head to Harmony and Teagan.

Cerys smiled coldly, “Sounds good,” she replied, extending her hand to her own helpers, “we’ll start off the main stairs.”

With her girls in tow, Sersei exited the room headed toward the kitchen. She chose to start at the rear because she didn’t think Oliver had much of an opportunity to get very far.

Brooklynn approached Kandi near the door as girls were filing out, “I’m done bleeding, so,” she said, raising an eyebrow and grinning.

Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, the redhead nodded, “Cam?” she inquired, stepping to the side to allow others to depart.

Brooklynn nodded, blonde ponytail bouncing, “After my sentry duty on the stairs I’ll come collect him. If that’s cool?” she said.

“Oh for sure, no problem, I’m just grateful you gave him to me early while you were on your period,” she replied with a genuine grin and wondering whether or not she had enough time to use Cam one more time.

From behind them, “Brooklynn,” Allie called, angling her head to the side and glancing toward the door.

Moving to the door, “I’ll come see you once I’m done on the stairs,” Brooklynn said before exiting the room. Walking down the hall toward the front of the house, she scaled the broad main stairs leading up and sat down sideways on the second to last step, eyes on the hall. Hopefully, the hunt for Oliver would end sooner than later because the notion of getting Cam back in her possession was making her hornier than ever, and without her run, she had a lot of energy to burn.

Kandi returned to her room, grateful hers was on the first floor. Knowing Sersei and Cerys were leading the way to ferret out Oliver, she knew time was of the essence if she was going to enjoy another round of Cam.

Pulling out the front of her black exercise pants, she used her thumb to capture the band of her panties. There, lying in the tight fleshy split of her sex was Cam, twisted half to the side. “Time to wake up,” she said, reaching in and taking his left arm.

Going limp, Cam groaned slightly as Kandi lifted him out of her underwear and dangled him in front of her. A contemplative look on her pretty features, “Hmm, where shall we start today?” she asked, licking her lips before grinning broadly.

A Fox in the Hen House

When Brooklynn left the room to attend the all house meeting, Oliver went to check to see how securely she had blocked the gap under the door. Unlike Melody, the blonde’s efforts were much more diligent, preventing him from exiting her room.

He knew the substance of the meeting the girls were having, him, and he knew they were coming, and soon. Which meant he needed a good place to hide, somewhere they wouldn’t think to look. But where? Again, his first thought was too get up high, thinking they would dedicate most of their time searching down low. Desk or the vanity? Looking from one to the other, his gut pushed him toward the vanity. Jogging over, there was an electrical cord dangling down, not on the floor but close enough for him to grab. Shinnying up, he pulled himself onto the surface of the vanity. The cord belonged to a fancy mirror, the reflective glass bracketed by a bank of lights to either side. The surface of the vanity contained a broad spectrum of beauty products, lotions, creams, powders, a veritable rainbow of nail polishes, and all sorts of other things. A slow smile spread over his face.

Walking over to a jar of Belle Vie face cream, he examined it. Made out of transparent blue glass with glass screw down lid, the jar appeared about two thirds full. This would make the ultimate place to hide, at least in the short term. Looking at his meager possessions, he knew it would probably be best keeping only his blade. Hastily eating the half a peanut heart, he tucked the other full piece in an innocuous spot thinking it would be easy to overlook, same with his floss before he returned to the jar of cream.

Bracing his feet, he tested the lid to see how securely it was fashioned. Finding it moving easily, he unscrewed it and pushed it back a bit, careful to keep it from falling off the top of the jar. He tossed his razor blade knife into the jar before pulling himself up and over the lip and lowering himself into the cool white colored cream, the sleek consistency and silky texture reminding him very much of the mud lining the bottom of Hiller’s Pond back home. Up to his waist in the cream, he reached overhead and pulled the glass lid back into place, using his hands to turn it until it caught the glass threads and started to tighten. Confined inside the jar, the perfume in the cream tickled his nose hairs, making him sneeze thrice in rapid succession. After a few more moments of teetering on the brink, he seemed to acclimatize to the scent and the urge passed. Wrinkling his nose, he glanced out through the colored glass and although slightly distorted by the curve, he was able to see out quite clearly. Dropping to his knees, he submerged the upper portion of his body in the cream, pulling more up to cover his face and head careful not to get any of it in his eyes. Now it was just a matter of waiting.

And wait he did. His initial fear of Brooklynn bursting into the room at any time was misplaced. After the first hour, he needed to stretch his muscles and the cream was pruning his flesh. After the second hour, he opened the lid for a few minutes to replenish the air before tightening it partially back.

When the door to the room finally opened, it was not Brooklynn, but Sersei who stepped into the room, the features of her too pretty face set in a determined cast. On her heels appeared Teagan and Harmony. Once the door was closed, the latter bent at the waist to jam the towel under the door.

Clicking on the overhead light, “You in here Oliver?” Sersei inquired stepping into the center of the room before turning slowly in circular fashion. “No?” she said with a chuckle. This was their fourth room, though in truth, the trio had only half-assed Maeve and Melody’s rooms. Teagan’s room had taken almost two whole hours. She had posed the same question in each, hoping Oliver might surrender himself and save them the trouble of have to look for him. No such luck.

Peering through the glass, Oliver involuntarily held his breath, mentally willing the girls not to see him. They were all so huge it was mindboggling. Hopefully his hidey hole was clever enough to foil their efforts.

Directing traffic, Sersei instructed Harmony to begin sifting through Brooklynn’s dresser drawers while she herself began pulling a bunch of boxes out from under the bed and diligently going through each. Teagan headed for the closet.

After searching the dresser, Harmony turned her attention to the vanity.

Oliver got the impression from the downcast look on her face she didn’t really appear to be quite as enthusiastic in her efforts as Sersei or Teagan. Engaged or not, she was however diligent, shuffling and sifting through the plethora of beauty products atop the vanity, including sliding his jar to the side.

“Eww, I think I just found used dental floss,” Harmony said, lifting the length by one end and holding it up.

“As nasty as that may be at least she flosses, I’m on dirty laundry detail,” Teagan countered. “Trade?”

Shaking her head, Harmony took a few steps toward the wastebasket and deposited the floss inside before returning to the vanity.

While she moved things around looking for him, she didn’t look inside things.

Getting back to her feet, Teagan looked toward Harmony, eyes lighting up. “Oh!” she chirped excitedly, bouncing over to the vanity and curling her fingers around a fancy bottle of emerald colored nail polish. “Pretty,” she cooed, lifting it up.

Oliver remained completely still.

“Belle Vie!” Teagan remarked, setting down the bottle of nail polish and scooping up the jar of face cream in her left hand, fingers of her right around the perimeter of the lid.

“Come on,” Sersei urged, the look of disproval on her face not marring her attractive features.

Letting out a sigh, Teagan put the jar back on the vanity.

“I didn’t find him over here,” Harmony said, shrugging.

Sersei shook her head. The very thorough search had taken almost an entire hour with np results or possible indication he might have secreted himself in the room. “Alright, let’s move onto to your room before Cerys gets there,” she said, glancing to ward Harmony.

The brunette nodded shyly, “Okay.” With that, the girls exited the room, carefully, replacing the towel under the door.

Letting out a long breath, Oliver relaxed, smiling triumphantly.

A Deacon of Hope

Deacon awoke, stretching languidly before glancing across the room to Oliver’s unmade bed. “Dude,” he congratulated, smiling broadly.

Sitting up, he scratched his side before checking his watch. It was still early, but a small smile touched his lips. He had a plan. Rising, he completed his morning routine before exiting the room, retracing his steps from the day before, setting at a deliberately leisurely pace, hoping he might, serendipitously so ‘accidently’ bump into the blonde haired jogging goddess Brooklynn.

It was his fervent wish the divine beauty was a creature of habit and routine taking the same route at the same time, each day.

“Please, please, please,” he muttered hopefully, mossy green eyes eagerly scanning the Commons for any trace of the girl. No such luck. He checked his watch again and frowned. He was a few minutes early. Moving over the grass, he took a seat with his back against a tree, positioning himself strategically to be able to see should the exceedingly lovely Brooklynn grace the mortal plane with her presence.

Time ticked away slowly, people busy with their own lives came and went, but not Brooklynn. Deacon checked his watch again. Either she was late, or she wasn’t coming, then Oliver’s words returned to him when he introduced the girl.

“You’re early for your run,” Deacon said aloud, shaking his head and chuckling to himself. “Your honor, she blinded me with her hotness,” he pleaded. When was her usual run time? What if she was an afternoon runner instead of morning runner, he could here for hours? Should he check with Oliver? If things went with his date last night, he was probably still crashed.

Pulling out his phone, Deacon called up Oliver’s contact, typing, ‘You cheeky bastard.’ Looking at it before sending the text, would Oliver take it the right way? He did seem to be pretty laid back and casual, but they were still in that getting to know one another phase. Erasing the message, he typed a safer message, ‘Hope your evening went as well as you might have hoped.’ Rereading it, Deacon snorted, “What am I? A chick? Jesus?” he said, chastising himself. Backing the letters out of the message, he input, ‘Hope you fucked the ever loving shit out of your girl last night and left her weak in the knees.’ He liked that one, but again it did convey a certain sense of familiarity that could be misconstrued. Editing the message, he wrote, ‘Hope you had a good night and left that girl weak in her knees.’ That was better. Still a bit of an edge, but playful enough to not offend. Nodding, he sent the message.

Dropping his phone into his lap, he looked out over the Commons again, wishing he had brought his guitar along with him, though conceding it might still be a bit early in the day for that. If he spotted Brooklynn, he was definitely going to get a picture of her. No way the lads back home would believe how crazy hot she was. Where was she? “Where oh where can my baby be?” he sang acapella, mimicking Pearl Jam’s cover of the song Last Kiss.

Picking his phone back up, there was no response from Oliver. The rumble in is belly let him know he was hungry. Climbing to his feet, he pocketed the phone and ambled toward Cup of Joe’s, still daring to hope Brooklynn might materialize. No such luck.

The coffee shop was only about half full, but he could imagine once classes got going, the place would more than likely crazy busy. Getting himself an egg and sausage breakfast biscuit, he parked his butt at one of the vacant tables, sitting in the chair facing out through the windows just in case a certain somebody might happen by.

Taking a couple of bites from the biscuit, he thought he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Pulling it out, it was dark. “Phantom vibe,” he murmured, disappointed. Swiping it, he tapped the text icon. “Code,” he said, chastising himself. He had forgotten to use it when texting Oliver. Chuckling, he typed, ‘What’s got nothing to do with it?’ That was the line, wasn’t it? He frowned, thinking. Was he supposed to ask Oliver for his line, or his own line? Shaking his head, he quickly messaged, ‘What am I?’ he inquired, answering the question in his own head, navel lint. The answer made him laugh out loud, drawing a couple of glances from other patrons.

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he finished eating his breakfast sandwich. With neither hide nor hair of Brooklynn, he glanced over at one of the baristas wiping down a neighboring table, a cute little brunette with a green apron tied around her svelte body.

“Excuse me, by any chance is the manager in today?” he inquired, putting on a big smile.

“Sure,” she replied, favoring him with a polite smile. “Is there a problem?”

Deacon grinned and shook his head, “Nah, sorry, I was just wondering if I might be able to play my guitar here?” he replied.

“Are you any good?” she asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“If I say yes, I’m bragging, if I say not bad, I’m being modest. I would love to play for you and let you decide for yourself,” he answered, grin transforming into a coy smile.

Batting her eyes, she giggled, “Maybe.”

“I’m Deacon,” he said, extending his hand.

“Cady, well Cadence, but everyone calls me Cady,” she replied, slipping her fingers into his hand.

“Nice to meet you Cady,” he replied.

“I’m off at two,” she offered, biting her lower lip.

“Then I will be here at 1:59,” he promised.

“Do you still want to see the manager?”

“I’ll hold until after I’ve had a chance to play for you, then you can me tell if you think it’s a good idea,’ he countered.

“Okay,” she said, shifting from foot to foot. “I have to get back to work.”

“1:59,” he repeated.

Parting is Such Sweet Sticky Sorrow

Cough wracking his tiny battered body, Cam rolled onto his side trying to cover his mouth, fingers glued together with Kandi’s residue. So weary, the effort taxed what limited resources he still had left.

Lying on her back, Cam on her stomach near her navel, “Mmm,” Kandi purred, basking in the afterglow of a powerful orgasm. She was so glad her room was located on the first floor, giving her the ability to get one last little session in with Cam before she returned him to Brooklynn.

Cough subsided, he wiped at the drool leaking out his mouth.

Looking down over her breasts, Kandi moved her right hand near Cam, stroking the length of his body with her index finger. “I’m going to miss our little fun together,” she lamented, producing an exaggerated pout.

Turning his head to look toward her face, what did she mean? “I, what, miss?” he question, her taste still strong in his mouth.

“Yep,” she said, nodding her head slightly, “you go back to Brooklynn today.”

Brooklynn? The blonde girl’s appetite was no less voracious than Kandi’s, except Brooklynn didn’t trap him in her stocking and take him to the club. Nope. She preferred stuffing him in her panties and going running. Did it matter?

“I think I could go for another,” she tittered, using her finger to nudge him down her taut belly toward the swell of her mons.

He knew better than to fight, besides, he was physically exhausted, so he went limp.

Cupping her hand around Cam’s tiny body, she put her finger to the side of his head, pushing down on his skull and applying pressure to her still sensitive clitoris. Moving his head in slow lazy circles, sending delightful tingles moved through her nervous system making her body tremble, “Ooo,” she noised, sucking in a quick breath.

Despite his intent to do anything and everything he could to try and put a brave face on, it was hard when that face was being used to masturbate an enormous man devouring vagina, one he had only recently been deeply embedded in and escaped from. Whether it was friction created by pressure and movement, or tissue engorging because of arousal, the flesh under his face felt hot as it hardened.

“Naughty boy, you’re making me wet all over again,” she chastised playfully, voice almost a purr as she expanded her circle, sliding his body through the fold of her outer labia and back up through the slickening groove of her sex.

Anticipating she might once more plunge him back inside her, Cam took a big breath, but she had other plans, preferring to continue stimulating her external genitals.

Increasing the tempo and speed of her movements, “Ugh, that feels so good,” she groaned gutturally, tongue snaking out to lick her lips.

Cam kept his arms tucked in to his sides, the increasing pressure and motion of her hand becoming painful.

“Ooo, I’m close, I’m going to, I’m going, aah,” she squealed, voice rising in pitch as she came. Quickly, she turned him around, reorienting his body and holding his face directly against the entrance of her swollen and hot pussy, making him feel every clench and contraction as she teased the orgasm out of her body.

Pinned as he was, the power of her spasming muscles massaged his face, almost like they were trying to take hold of his head and drag him into her, drowning him in her come.

Release over, she brought her hands up and slid them under her head, leaving Cam mired in the mess of her come, the tacky residue of her climax gumming him to her body.

After a few moments of savoring the residual sensations of her orgasm, “I suppose it’s only proper I clean you up before returning you to Brooklynn,” she said with a chuckle, grabbing hold of his left leg and peeling him off her pussy. Bringing him inverted to her head, she dangled him over her open mouth before releasing her hold on his ankle and letting him freefall into her maw.

Again, the easiest thing for him to do was remain limp, surrendering himself to her power, though he did tuck his arms and legs in tight against his body making himself as small as possible to avoid hitting her teeth. He missed his pearly white, bounced off her tongue and slid into tunnel at the back of her throat, making her cough.

Twisting to the side, Kandi pushed herself up right, the tickle Cam caused in her throat irritating her. Drooling him out into the palm of her right hand, she brought up her left to her mouth, giving in to another fit of coughing. Looking down at the little slobber covered youth in her right palm, “You’re lucky, you have no idea, I almost swallowed you,” she informed wide-eyed. Chuckling, she moved her left hand to the front of her throat and rubbed at it.

Wiping the copious saliva from his face, he glanced up at her face but kept quiet. The notion of her swallowing him alive filled him with an ominous sense of dread.

“That is Cerys’ big kink, she absolutely loves swallowing little ones for whatever reason,” Kandi explained, shaking her head, a few loose strands of red sticking to her dampened brow.

Lying his head back down into her palm, Cam closed his eyes.

“Now let’s try this again and see if we can’t get you ready for Brooklynn,” she added, bringing him back up toward the yawning cave of her mouth.

Buffeted around the interior of the redhead’s steamy mouth, a shivered crawled up Cam’s spine, making him shudder. Death dwelt here. Feet near the void at her throat, he could envision the journey down her esophagus and into the dark pit of her stomach, there to be broken down, leaving whatever was left of him ignominiously expelled in her shit. At least the one small consolation he clove to was the fact at least Kandi wasn’t Cerys.

No Sleep Till Brooklynn

Seated half on the stairs, Brooklynn leaned as her elbows and nibbled absently at a strand of her blonde hair watching the two search parties come together near the bathroom door. Body language alone spoke more to her about the success, or lack thereof of the two groups’ effort to track down the astonishingly elusive Oliver. They didn’t find him. Half dreading the condition she might find her room in, the thought of getting Cam back put a wide smile on Brooklynn’s face. Fresh off her monthly, she was extremely horny and eager to play with him.

As Sersei approached the stairs, Brooklynn looked up, “Anything?” she inquired, keeping her tone cheerful and expectant.

Shaking her ponytailed blonde head, Sersei paused, “Nothing. We didn’t even find any traces like we did in Mel’s room. Cerys had about the same luck too,” she shared.

Making a disappointed face, “Bummer,” Brooklynn commiserated. “I thought for sure you would have found him up here.”

Turning her head to look back down the hall, “I still think he’s up here,” she asserted, nodding slowly.

Making a face, “Do I want to know how bad my room looks?” Brooklynn asked through her teeth.

Looking kind of guilty, Sersei raised her eyebrows, “We were very thorough, like very, so I apologize in advance,” she replied apologetically.

Nodding glumly, “I just wish you had found him is all,” offered the seated blonde.

“Me too,” Sersei replied, shifting passed Brooklynn and descending a couple of stairs.

“Am I done here then?” Brooklynn inquired, concealing her excitement.

Letting out a big sigh, Sersei nodded reluctantly, “For now I think,” she acknowledged, dropping down a couple more stairs.

Getting to her feet, Brooklynn nodded, “Okay,” she said, grasping the thick polished bannister and taking a step down.

“Are you going downstairs?” Sersei inquired.

Brooklynn nodded, “To see Kandi and collect your brother,” she answered.

Sersei grinned, “Ah, I see then, have fun,” she responded, comprehending the situation and walking down the wide set of stairs with Brooklynn on her heels.

Skipping down the short corridor to the bedrooms on the first level, Brooklynn pulled up in front of Kandi’s door, rapping lightly.

“A minute,” came the redhead’s response from the other side of the door.

“Okay,” Brooklynn responded, hands clasped in front of her.

Opening the door, Kandi grinned, extending her open left hand, Cam curled in a fetal ball lying in her palm.

Looking down, Brooklynn brought her hands to her cheeks, “Ohh, he’s looks so cute,” she cooed.

“I think I might have tired him out saying goodbye,” Kandi said apologetically.

“It’s okay, I think I’ll let him rest and gather his strength while I sort my room out,” she replied, lowering her hand to receive Cam.

Carefully transferring the tiny boy over, Kandi grinned and again effusively expressed her thanks at the opportunity to use him ahead of her turn.

Waving the redhead off, Brooklynn closed her fingers around Cam and bounded back up to her room, eager to, as Sersei said, have some fun. Stripping the towel away from the gap under her door, she opened the portal and paused, eyes round as she beheld the condition of her room.

Stepping into what she could only think looked like the aftermath of a tornado, “Holy crap,” she murmured, closing the door and jamming the towel back into place. While she wanted to complain, but wondered if she had been more attentive, might she and Monroe have caught Oliver before he made his way up to the second floor?

Shuffling across the floor, she set the tiny figure of Cam down on the desk while she contemplated where best to start putting her room back in order. “Looks like a grenade went off in here,” she remarked, moving over to her laundry hamper. Dropping down to her knees, she scooped up her clothes and put them back in the hamper. Slowly, she made her way around the room, restoring it. Tarrying a moment at the vanity, She picked up her jar of Belle Vie, uncapping it and taking a whiff before putting it back where it belonged. The last thing she did was make her bed. Taking a seat, she collected Cam from the desk, keeping him in the center of her left hand. Through the entire restoration process, he had not moved, sleeping like a proverbial log.

“Cam,” she said softly, gently running the pad of her right index finger over his body and stroking him several times before getting any type of response.

Groaning, Cam rolled onto his back, eyes fluttering open.

Smiling down at him “Well hey there sleepy head,” she greeted, voice soft, tone friendly.

Recognizing her voice, “Brooklynn,” he replied, blinking his eyes to focus on her lovely face.

“Hi little Cam,” she said, smile broadening, revealing her bright white porcelain colored teeth.

“Hello,” he answered weakly, shifting into a seated position. Cam’s stomach rumbled in protest. How long had it been since he had eaten? 

“Did you miss me?” she inquired playfully, winking at him then sucking her bottom lip into her mouth and biting it between her teeth.

What did she expect him to say? “If I say yes may I please have something to eat?” he asked, lowering his eyes.

Tilting her head to one side, she brought him closer to her face, “Oh you poor dear,” she said soothingly, releasing her plump lip and pouting exaggeratedly.

Looking into her big verdant green colored left eye, “I can’t remember when I actually had something of substance to eat,” he croaked, rubbing a hand over his lean midriff.

“You must be famished, positively starving,” she sympathized, her face a mask of concern.

“Please,” he pleaded, hoping his entreaty would not fall upon deaf ears.

Using her free hand, she made a hollow depression in the center of her pillow, carefully setting him in it. “I’ll tell you what, you wait right here and I’ll go get you a little something to fill you up. When you’re done, you can return the favor,” she shared with a capricious twinkle in her eyes, jumping up off the bed and skipping to the door. Bending, she removed the towel and quit the room.

Empty Handed

Sitting at the table in the kitchen, fingers tented, Sersei’s frustration bordered on downright anger. Her group scoured the second floor, practically turning it upside down and finding no further trace of Oliver. Nothing. Judging by the look of barely contained rage in Cerys’ icy blue eyes, Sersei surmised the second group achieved a similar lack of results.

Leaning against the edge of the counter near the sink, “He might have doubled back and returned to the first floor,” Cerys stated, nodding more to herself than the other girls assembled in the kitchen.

“Why don’t we look?” offered Acacia, earning a deathly glower from Cerys.

It didn’t feel right to Sersei. He was on the second floor and he just eluded them, somehow. She felt it.

Vesper appeared in the kitchen, “Well?” she inquired, the hope tone in her voice matching the look on her face.

Sersei shook her head, the expression on her face conveying the disappointment she felt.

A small smile appeared on Vesper’s face, “Crafty little fellow our Oliver,” she commented as Allie walked in.

Looking to the reigning president of Omega Pi, “We need to search the main floor,” Cerys declared, folding her arms under her sizable breasts.

Turning her head to look at Vesper, Allie frowned.

“While you and Sersei were upstairs tearing it apart, we were looking down here,” Vesper replied, spreading her hands and shrugging her shoulders.

Brow furling deeper, “Everywhere? He could be anywhere down here, under the stove, behind the fridge, anywhere,” Cerys growled, pointing at the appliances.

Addressing Sersei, “How thorough did you search your rooms upstairs?” Acacia asked.

Turning to look at the freshmen, a menacing smile appeared at the corner of Sersei full-lipped mouth, “We practically turned the rooms we went into inside out and did twice as many as you guys did,” she replied.

Turning to scowl at Acacia, “Need you be reminded of your position here in the house?” Cerys challenged.

“Thank you,” Sersei acknowledged.

Allie raised her hands, “Yes, thank you Cerys, Sersei, for reminding us this isn’t a competition and there is no point going at each other. We all have the same mission in mind, finding Oliver.”

“To that end, what do we do next?” Sersei inquired.

Stepping into the room “If I may?” Edith Frost offered.

“Please by all means,” Allie acknowledged, surrendering the floor.

Smiling at the girls, she spread her hands, “First off, let me provide some measure of reassurance for you,” she started. “This is hardly the first time a little has gotten loose inside an Omega house and I can promise you it won’t be the last,” she added with a chuckle.

“Small comfort,” Allie said sheepishly.

“I know some of you have been searching since the completion of the ritual last eve and are functioning on depleted batteries, so I suggest you get some rest. All of the doors have been adequately blocked on the second floor and time is a luxury that is on your side at the moment,” she offered.

Cold blue eyes flashing defiantly, “Do nothing?” Cerys challenged, a frown pulling down the corners of her mouth.

Edith shook her head, “Now it seems completely obvious to me this little fellow possesses an industrious nature by virtue of the efforts he has made to equip himself and his initial success securing a meager amount of water. He may even be enjoying a small modicum of short-lived confidence based on temporarily eluding your best efforts to locate him. But,” she paused, turning in the spot to make sure she shared a moment of eye contact with each of the girls, “he is small and alone, and afraid. Patience is one your side. I have seen in other cases where once the hunger and dehydration set in, the little has willingly surrendered himself.”

“We tried to encourage him to come out, highlighting the exact things you’ve pointed out,” Sersei informed.

“As did we,” Cerys added, nodding her head.

Miss Frost nodded solemnly, “We have no way of knowing what damning things he may have witnessed or what things he might have overheard so I very much doubt he would be easily lured out by false promises or inducements,” she stated. “No, once he feels his stomach feeding on itself and the lack of water begins to tax his little body, when the realization hope itself has abandoned him, he will become more desperate, more inclined to take risk.”

“So you say we should just wait him out?” clarified Sersei, gnawing on the inside of her cheek.

“No, I’m saying you need to get your rest. After that, I would encourage you to search again, high and low. Anywhere you think he could go, any place he might fit,” Edith replied.

“What about the possibility he might have tried to sneak back down the stairs to the main floor? The doors down here aren’t blocked,” queried Acacia, piping up.

Edith chuckled softly, “Given the desperate nature of his original flight, I think has now had time to consider his situation. I strongly feel it counter intuitive and highly improbable he would risk circling back down the stairs. The span is too long and they are too wide open. He’s still up there in one of those rooms, hiding,” she said with a predatory smile.

Mirroring the thought, Sersei nodded. She was beyond tired. Maybe Miss Frost’s idea was right, maybe they just needed to get some shuteye, come back at the situation rested and recharged? Turning to look at Cerys, “What do you say? Grab some rest and start over, this time me, you, and Harmony room to room looking everywhere?” she offered.

Cerys nodded slowly, “Acacia and Teagan on the stairs,” she added.

Sersei nodded. “Small proof our rooms in the interim, lift cords and such to eliminate hiding spots?”

“Yes,” agreed the dark haired girl.

Holding up her right hand, “Know this, after your rest, I shall grant this house one day, a span of twenty four hours to capture little Oliver. If you do not find him in that time, I shall become involved and then I will invoke Prima Eligendo,” Edith Frost declared.

Heart sinking, “After the rest?” Sersei asked, seeking clarification.

Edith nodded slowly, confirming not only the blonde girl’s worst fear, but also dark haired Cerys.

Harmony wasn’t quite sure how she felt. If they found him, he would go to Sersei then Cerys and if he survived then to her. If not, he would go to Edith Frost. Torn, she was unsure about her feelings.

A Fly in the Ointment

Unsure of when the girls might return Oliver gambled on sooner than later, choosing to keep himself secreted in the Belle Vie jar for the time being. With no obvious means of telling time, he wasn’t too sure of how long he had been there, when the door finally opened and Brooklynn strolled in, aghast look on her face as she beheld the wreckage of her room at the hands of Sersei and her gang of pillagers.

“And they still missed me,” he said with a small chuckle, flexing his fingers to try sand promote circulation in his extremities.

Closing her door, the giant girl set the towel and crossed the room, setting something small down on the desk before saying something about a grenade.

Pressing his face against the clear glass above the level of the cream, Oliver tried to see what it was she had set down on the desk. He could tell it was a little person but the features were distorted and indistinct. It had to be Cam. He felt a surge of elation. Cam had been here the whole time.

Brooklynn started tidying up the mess in her room. When she approached the vanity, he remain motionless, most of his body submerged in the cream, his face and head also covered.

Putting things back in order, she picked up the jar, twisting the glass lid.

Oliver’s heart sank into his stomach, more at the prospect of discovery than the rapid elevation of the jar.

Removing the lid, Brooklynn brought the jar up under her nose, closing her eyes and inhaling the subtle perfumed fragrance.

Holding his breath, Oliver was amazed at the sheer scale of her mouth and nose. They were immense. Sure, he had seen the girls on his flight from the basement, but not up close, not like this. His heart was thundering in his chest, so loud in his ears he thought for sure she could hear it.

Letting out her breath, Brooklynn opened her eyes and replaced the lid on the jar, twisting it closed before setting it back down atop the vanity.

Oliver kept himself mired in the cream as the blonde continued re-establishing order to her room. That was close. Once his heart rate returned to normal, he waded through the cream to get a better view of Brooklynn and her progress.

It didn’t take the blonde haired giantess long to get the room organized.

Oliver continued to watch as she collected his friend from the desk and plopped herself on the bed. With lotion still caked in his ears and thick glass separating them, he could only make out a handful of her words and none of Cam’s.

Hands pressed against the glass, “Hang in there pal,” Oliver implored, watching her put Cam down on the pillow and cross the room before exiting.

Realizing his odds of success for rescuing Bear had been essentially nil, they weren’t much better for liberating Cam, but this was Cam and Cam was his friend, meaning he had to do something. At a quick glance, he believed he could get up onto the bed easily enough via the top desk but Cam’s utter lack of movement was of concern. What kind of condition was he in? Was Oliver going to have carry him out? Getting onto the bed was one thing, but how would they get back down? Now would have been a great time for his length of dental floss Harmony discovered and discarded. Not having the luxury of time, he knew he needed to act quickly.

Pushing his hands up against the underside of the lid, he tried to unscrew it, but his hands were too slick with the cream he couldn’t get purchase, his hands just sliding. Again and again, he repeated his efforts. “No, no,” he murmured, concern becoming panic. When Brooklynn put the lid back on, she tightened it securely and now it seemed he couldn’t get it to budge. Had she unknowingly turned his cleverness against him and trapped him inside the jar of cream?

Vigorously wiping his hands together, he hoped to lessen their slipperiness. “Come on,” he urged. Feeling only mildly less slick, he pressed his hand against the lid again, positioning fairly wide apart. Gritting his teeth, he used all his might and the lid moved ever so slightly, but enough to rekindle the spark of hope in him.

Chuckling nervously, he repositioned his hands, again exerting maximum effort to dislodge the lid. Slowly, grudgingly, it started to turn, requiring less and less force to move. Twisting it in a clockwise motion, he unseated it from the threads. Pushing it carefully to the side, he kept a grip on the lip of the lid to prevent it from falling, though making sure to create a large enough gap from which to exit the jar. Pulling himself up on the edge, the way a swimmer might in a pool, he paused a second to savor the sweet taste of fresh air as it filled his lungs.

Slinging his goopy cream caked leg up over the lip, he started to pull himself out of the jar. The door opened and Brooklynn walked in. Like a deer at sunset in the headlights of an oncoming car, Oliver froze, silently willing the immense girl not to look his way.

Crossing the floor, she approached the bed, putting her hands on her hips, “Well it looks like we are going to have to put our little getting reacquainted reunion on hold for the time being,” she said, reaching one hand to her pants, the other to Cam.

Oliver dragged his leg back over the lip and dropped back into the jar, sliding the lid oh so carefully back into place all the while praying the grating sound of glass on glass wasn’t as loud to her as it was in his own ears.

What was she doing? It looked like she was putting Cam in the front of her underpants. But why? When she turned back, Cam was nowhere to be seen. Patting her crotch lightly, she giggled and exited the room.

Deacon and Cady under a Tree

True to his word, at 1:59 Deacon took a seat at one of the patio tables outside Cup of Joe’s.

Emerging through the door, Cady turned her left wrist to look at her watch, “Right on time I see,” she commented, giving him a warm smile.

Making a face, “Would it be cheesy if I said I had a good reason to be on time?” he asked.

“That would all depend on what you said that good reason was,” she replied.

He grinned cheekily, “Why to show off my meager skills on the old six string,” he said, keeping his eyes on hers.

“Meager?” she challenged.

Getting up from the table, “Come on,” he said, leading her across the way and into the green expanse of the tree spotted Commons.

Sitting on the grass near a tree, he put the guitar in his lap, “Ready?” he asked.

Sitting down cross-legged across from him, “You play left handed?” she noted.

“Everything I know I got off Guitar Hero lefty flip,” he said with mock seriousness.

“I’m ready,” she stated.

Earning his scholarship on the merits of his classical ability, he started with an amazing rendition of Asturias by Francisco Tarrega then transitioning into a moving version of Recuerdos de la Alhambra.

“Holy cow are you ever good,” she praised, a look of disbelief on her comely face.

“Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all week,” he said, using his fret hand to mime silencing the nonexistent crowd.

Cady chuckled and shook her head, “You are funny,” she declared, reaching and touching his right arm near the shoulder.

“Something a little more contemporary maybe?” he asked, launching into an acoustical version of Stairway to Heaven. “I don’t pretend to be a vocalist,” he warned before singing along with his playing.

Cady laughed, clapping her hands together excitedly, “You are definitely more than meager, you are outstanding,” she declared.

Grinning, he ceased playing and set his guitar to the side, “Ladies and gentlemen, Elvis has left the building.”

“You definitely have to talk with Carol, she’ll love what you can do,” Cady assured.

There was no disputing his talent with the guitar, but he was also shy, using his skill with the instrument as a means to overcome insecurity and feelings of social awkwardness, “So you like?” he asked, not poaching for compliments just reassurance.

Putting her hand to the side of her head, she pulled it away slowly fanning out her fingers and making an explosion noise wither mouth, “Consider my mind blown,” she said.

Deacon grinned.

“And here I thought you were just trying to pick me up,” Cady said, batting her eyes playfully.

Deacon blushed, fishing his phone out of his pocket, “Sorry, I’m waiting to hear back from my roomie,” he said, giving her an apologetic smile, cheeks still crimson.

“You are too cute,” she replied, coy smile on her face.

“He went out with one of the girls from the Omega Pi house last night,” he replied, checking to see if Oliver had responded to his earlier texts. Nothing.

Cady screwed up her face and shook her head, “Those girls are so snobby, even in the café they act like they’re better than everybody else. I’m surprised one of them would stoop to mingle with the common rabble,” she shared.

“Oh no, I think Oliver is uncommon rabble,” Deacon jested, tucking his phone back away.

“He should be wary of those girls,” she cautioned.

Deacon frowned, “Wary?” There was no denying when not dolled up Cady was still very attractive, but by comparison, the one Omega he met, Brooklynn, was stunning. Was the barista just being a little catty, maybe?

“Rumors and innuendo surround that house. I heard some guys in the café call their sorority house The Ice Mansion. And it is no secret that that sorority is connected, and well, anyone who seems to cross their path or run afoul of them gets dealt with quickly and efficiently,” Cady answered, eyes wide.

Pushing his nose to the side of his face, “Connected? Like do you think they are mobbed up or something? Concrete galoshes?” he asked grinning, but the little voice in the back of his head dredging up his conversation with Oliver about the misfortunes suffered by the recipients of their little bands. Cam had three bands and he was gone. Bear too, and now Oliver.

“They seem just privileged, wolves in sheep’s clothing. I don’t how else to describe it,” she tried to explain, shrugging her shoulders.

Was Oliver in some kind of trouble? What kind of trouble could he get in? “Oliver seems like a pretty grounded guy, I’m sure he’ll be fine,” he assured, though not feeling nearly as confident as he tried to sound.

“Sorry,” she chuckled, “I’m sure your roommate is perfectly fine.”

“Hey, enough about those girls with their noses in the air, why not tell me a little something about yourself?” he invited. Why hadn’t Oliver replied to the text messages?

Shrugging her shoulders, “Not much to tell really,” she replied.

“Come on, everyone has story,” he urged, trying to get her to open up. Should he send another text? What would he do if Oliver didn’t use the code?

“Just regular girl living the dream,” she chuckled.

Sliding the guitar back onto his lap, he started playing Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing, singing the opening lines then humming along with the music.

Letting down her dark hair, she shook it free, “You are too much, I could just eat you up,” she teased.

Stopping playing, “Speaking of eating, would you let me take out for some food sometime?” he asked, expression hopeful. “Just my way of saying thanks for putting the patch in for me at your work about me playing there.”

“In that case, I accept,” she replied. “Speaking of that, Carol is there now and this is a lull time, do you want to go back and talk with her?”

“That is an affirmative,” he asserted with a smile.

Wheeling, Dealing, Kiss Stealing

Despite feeling literally exhausted, Sersei couldn’t sleep, her mind churning over all of the places she or any of the other girls might have missed or overlooked. She also was definitely not a huge fan of Miss Frost’s deadline and declaration of First Choosing. Did she have a means of ferreting Oliver out? If so, why wasn’t she helping?

Pulling Oliver’s phone out of her pants pocket, a little green light in the upper left handed flashed intermittently. Bringing the phone to life, she was kind of surprised he did not lock his phone. She presumed the little light was to indicate there were a couple of text messages on the phone. Calling up the messages, the ID read ‘Deacon’. Who was Deacon?

Brooklynn bounced into the kitchen.

“Hey, sorry again about your room,” Sersei offered.

“I’m all squared away now, it’s all good,” Brooklynn replied, walking over to the refrigerator.

“What are you up to? I thought you were getting Cam back?” she queried.

“I did. I’m just grabbing some eats for your brother before we have a little fun,” Brooklynn replied.

Looking back down at Oliver‘s phone, “You know a Deacon?”

“Deacon? Sure, that’s Oliver’s new roommate,” replied the blonde, pulling out a sealed Tupperware container with some leftover chicken breast.

“Really?” Sersei queried. “Cam’s replacement. Have you met him?”

“Sure, yesterday with Oliver, cute,” she responded, peeling back the lid of the container to taking out a small piece of chicken. “Why do you ask?”

Sersei held up the phone, “He’s sent a couple of messages and I get the very distinct impression the exchange is a call and answer thing between them,” she explained.

Putting the container back in the fridge, she closed the door and walked over beside Sersei, reading the messages.

“Right?” Sersei asked.

“Yeah, what am I? That could be just about anything. What’s got nothing to do with it? I don’t know about that one either. Google it,” she suggested.

Nodding, Sersei started typing the letters into the google box, the search engine bringing up two suggestions, What’s love got to do with it, a song by Tina Turner, and Deserve’s got nothing to do with it from a western movie.

Chuckling Sersei shook her head.

Reading over Cam’s sister’s shoulder, “I’d go with the second one, I think that’s way more in keeping with what we know about Oliver’s character,” Brooklynn stated.

“Could be, but it also could be a ruse or a test thinking that’s the obvious answer,” she speculated. “He is proving to be a rather creative little fellow.”

Brooklynn nodded, “Might be, but I doubt it,” she said, sharing her opinion.

“They got chummy awfully fast,” Sersei remarked, waggling Oliver’s phone. “Are you super busy right at the moment?”

Holding out the morsel of cold bird, “I have got to feed this piece chicken to your little brother and then feed him to my, well you know,” she answered, arching her eyebrows before leaning forward to look at the crotch of her black exercise pants.

“Hungry pussy?”

Brooklynn grinned wide and nodded.

“We still need to clear Oliver’s room of possessions and this roommate is a bit of a loose end. You are the only sister to have met the new roomie, so that might be an in for us. What I was hoping I could get you to do was pop over there, say Oliver asked you to go over looking for a clean change of clothes, maybe his phone cord, toothbrush while Oliver and I are enjoying a little alone time together. In the meantime, I’ll send a few texts saying basically same thing. While you’re there, feel him out, see where his head is at,” Sersei proposed.

Brooklynn let out a long breath, hemming and hawing.

“I’ll tell you what, help me successfully navigate this Deacon thing and once I’ve got Oliver in my hands, I’ll give him to you on the sly for one of my nights and that way you can have both Cam and him all to yourself,” Sersei offered.

With Cerys in the direct line of possession, there would be zero chance she would get to play with Oliver. Having two of them to play with? A slow smile spread over Brooklynn’s face. “I am intrigued by the possibilities,” she confessed, “but that is all contingent on you finding him.”

A self-confident smile appeared on Sersei’s face, “Before the ritual for Kent tomorrow, I will be savoring a little Oliver in my martini,” she professed.

Emerald eyes sparkling, “I’ve seen that look of determination from you before and for a chance to double down, I’m willing to take the gamble,” Brooklynn agreed.

Sersei nodded, “It’s deal then. I would really, really, like it if you would wander over that way sooner than later,” she encouraged.

“I’ll go over now, but since I’ve just got your brother back, he is definitely going to be riding shotgun,” Brooklynn informed, patting the front of her exercise pants.

“Lucky boy,” Sersei remarked, grinning back.

Brooklynn chuckled and exited the kitchen.

Turning the phone over in her hand, she tapped the screen with her right index finger. Deserve did seem to be the obvious answer. Should she wait? While she contemplated the idea of replying, she opened up his only other recent communication, one with Stan. Reading the exchange, “That’s not even a very good picture of me,” she said aloud, shaking her head. Thumbs dancing over the keyboard, she composed a response, ‘Hey Stan, looks like things are really heating up between me and Sersei, and I mean heating up, so I’m going to have to take a pass on this weekend if you get my drift,’ she typed.

A few seconds later, ‘I’d pick that little sex kitten over me too. No worries pal, just make sure you play safe,’ came the response.

Rather than responding to Stan, she backed out of that conversation and opened up the one with Deacon. Deserve or love? That was the question. Deserve was just too easy. Letting out a breath, she typed love into the box and sent the message.

Creamed

After Brooklynn left with Cam, Oliver once again dislodged the glass lid of the Belle Vie jar and pulled himself onto the lip. Flipping over the edge of the jar, he dropped onto the polished surface of the vanity, cream slick feet slipping out from under him on depositing him abruptly on his behind

“Son of a gun,’ he murmured, trying to use the side of the jar to steady himself as he struggled to get to his feet only to drop back flat on his bottom again.

Rolling onto his stomach, he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees but only for a moment before everything slipped and he unceremoniously flopped onto his belly. “This must be what Bambi felt like on the ice,” he cracked sourly looking at his hands caked in cream before looking at the far end of the vanity where there was a tall floral patterned box of Kleenex. Pushing himself up slowly, he got back onto his hands and knees before rising to his feet. Painfully aware Brooklynn might return at any time, he hurried as quickly as he could to the box of tissues, clambering atop it before drawing out a single sheet. Wiping his hands and face first, he dropped down from the box and dragged the Kleenex back over beside the jar of cream and the mess he had made, doing his best to try and mop it up. There was such much and the tissue did not seem particularly absorbent as he smeared the cream around.

“Come on,” he urged after several more minutes, examining his feeble attempt. It was far from perfect, but might pass a cursory inspection. Either way, it would have to do. Folding the tissue in half over on itself, then again, and again like a wide canvas tarp, he decided he would stash it at the back of the vanity. Grabbing the tissue under his left arm, he grabbed his machete in his right hand and started toward the rear where the vanity abutted the wall, pausing to look at the enormous hairbrush, or more accurately, the strands of golden hair intertwined amongst the bristles of the brush. Walking over, he set the tissue and blade down, taking one of the loose finger width hair between both his hands and giving it a couple of sharp tugs to test its strength. Disentangling the hair from the brush, it turned out to be easily six or more times the length of his body. Was it strong enough to support his weight? He thought so, but was not completely sure. Quickly removing two more strands, he tied them together and looped it around one of the bristles, hastily braiding them into a rope, slicing off the uneven ends and knotting it.

Pleased with himself, he smiled, coiling up the makeshift rope and looping it over his shoulder. Retrieving his blade, he collected the tissue. Making his way to the gap between the piece of furniture and the wall, he bent down and wiped his hands one more time before dropping the paper into the crevice. Task complete, he returned to where he had stashed his other peanut heart, only to find it gone. Letting out a sigh, he went returned to the rear of the desk.

Descending the electrical cord was not too problematic, given there were still parts of his body slippery from the face cream. Once down on the floor, he stayed close to the wall, scurrying over to the back of the desk. Having watched how Sersei and the other two girls tore Brooklynn’s room apart looking for him, he knew there was nowhere to hide at floor level. If they came back, they would find him in a cinch.

Would there be any suitable spots on top of the desk? Only one way to find out. Securing the blade, he used the thick black cord to the desk’s lamp to get up to the top. Brooklynn’s desk was tidier than the one in Maeve’s room, but there was still enough clutter on it he could keep himself concealed as long as the girls did not do another mega thorough search.

Rather than immediately hole up, he decided to explore the surface of the desk to see what other potentially useful items he might find and add to his inventory. Aside from an elastic band, he spied a small lump of something perched at the corner of the desk near the bed. Walking closer, he stared at it. Was that a piece of chicken? Bending down, he picked it up and gave it a sniff, tummy rumbling. It was chicken, the meat still cool in his hands. It was right out in the open. Was it a trick of some kind, maybe something dosed with some of their knockout shot?

Returning to the rear of the desk, tucked away behind a stack of hard and soft cover texts books, he set the chicken down, studying it. Although he had had some peanut heart earlier, he had lost his second one and was feeling hungry. Should he risk it? Paranoia told him it was a trap. Hunger bade him eat and keep up his strength. Hunger won. Bringing the meat to his mouth, he nibbled at the tender piece of chicken, the delicious flavor filling his senses. It was so good. Throwing caution to the wind, he devoured the entire morsel ravenously, nourishment filling his body.

Although out of sight behind the pile of books, Oliver knew it would not withstand the scrutiny of another power search. Eye balling the books, he scrunched up his face, contemplating the notion of using the blade and cutting out an Oliver-sized hollow in some of the pages, stashing himself inside. It would make an awesome place to hide. Two problems though. One, what to do with the cutout paper, and two, what if Brooklynn put another book on top of the stack? Almost being trapped inside the jar had taught him a lesson.

During his investigation of the desk, he had seen a plastic holder containing frosted Scotch tape. What if he wrapped it sticky side out around his forearms and lower legs, was it strong enough to support his weight? Should be. In a worst case scenario, maybe he could use it a la Spiderman style and stick himself to the back of the desk or the wall.

With nothing else to do but wait, he went to the tape and cut off five goodly portions of tape. One for each of his extremities and the fifth to test the potency of the adhesive.

I Heart Brooklynn

Deacon’s audition with Cup of Joe’s manager Carol went swimmingly and he was given permission to play Tuesday and Thursday evenings, with the option for more depending on customer reaction.

His phone buzzed. It was a text from Oliver. ‘Love.’

Deacon frowned, “Love?” What does that mean? Obviously he wasn’t sticking to the code. Was Oliver telling him he was in love with that Sersei girl? “Shit,” he muttered, unsure of how to respond.

Staring at the message, he replied, ‘That’s the code, nailed it. Speaking of nailing things, how did your evening go with your girl?’

‘A real man doesn’t kiss and tell, but spending the evening with Sersei was more than I could possibly have ever hoped for,’ came the response.

Deacon pursed his lips, eyes narrowing, ‘Were you navel lint?’

‘Navel lint?’

The lines on his youthful face deepened. “Right,” he murmured. Whoever was on the other end of the phone wasn’t Oliver.

There was a light rapping at his door.

“A minute,” he said, setting his phone down on the bed before strolling over and opening the door.

Brooklynn stood there, looking radiant and gorgeous, and beautiful.

Deacon swallowed hard trying to find his voice.

“Hey Deacon,” she said, flashing him a bright beaming smile.

Shaking his head, “Uh, Oliver isn’t here,” he stammered.

Brooklynn nodded, “I know, he’s over at the house with Sersei. They just asked if I wouldn’t mind coming over a grabbing a few things of his as they are thinking of sneaking off together for the long weekend,” she replied with an exaggerated eyebrow raise, moving forward essentially forcing him back into the room.

“I, um, that’s, they didn’t have time to come by themselves?” he asked slowly.

Cupping his cheek with her left hand, she leaned close, “I think they were busy enjoying each other’s company, vigorously,” she whispered with a sly grin, giving him a wink.

Deacon swallowed hard, the girl’s fresh scent teasing his senses.

“Is that your guitar?” she asked, pointing to the case on his bed.

“Um, yeah,” he replied, watching as she bounced over and parked herself on his bed.

Leaning back on the bed, “Will you play for me?” she asked, giving him a coy smile.

“No, not right now, I thought you were here for some of Oliver’s clothes and stuff?” he replied. She was sitting right there, right on his bed. God she was clouding his judgement, this goddess of desire. Damned if he wasn’t getting an erection.

Leaning forward again, she closed her eyes for a moment before getting to her feet, “Right,” she said, voice ever so slightly breathless.

“Did you bring a bag or something to carry the stuff in?” he asked, self-conscious about his growing level of excitement.

Rolling her big green eyes, “Silly me,” she chuckled, “no.”

“I, ah, maybe there’s something,” he offered, moving toward the wastebasket on his side of the room and fishing out a plastic 7/11 bag and holding it up.

Extending a long lithe arm, she pointed to Oliver’s side of the room, “His stuff is over there?” she asked.

There was definitely something wrong with the situation, it didn’t feel right at all but he felt overwhelmed. “Yeah,” he replied, nodding weakly.

“Do you think you could show me, I don’t think it would be right to just start rooting through his stuff,” she stated, an innocent expression on her perfect face.

Staggering passed her, Deacon stopped at the dresser before looking back over his shoulder, “I, we have only been roommates for like two days. I,” he paused, eyes drifting down as she adjusted her pants near the cleft of her sex. Clearing his throat, he turned back and kneeled, opening the bottom drawer, revealing socks and underwear.

“I think I got some,” he commented, glancing over his shoulder only to find she had soundlessly come up behind him and now stood over him.

“That’s good,” she cooed, smiling down at him. “I think maybe a couple of each.”

What was it Cady said, wolves in sheep’s clothing? He suppressed the urge to baa as he grabbed a couple of pairs of each. This close to her, he swore he could feel the heat emanating off her outstanding body. “Here,” he said, handing the clothes to her.

Moving back, she set the clothes on Oliver’s bed while Deacon pulled open another drawer.

“Oh, phone cord too,” she started, “No wait I see it. I got it,” she volunteered, stepping over and bending at the waist, putting her immaculate ass on display as she reached down and took the cord by the plug. Wiggling her firm bottom, she tugged the charge cord out of the socket.

Deacon shook his head slightly, imperceptibly. She was so beautiful but that little voice in the back of his brain whispered caution. There was something wrong. This was all smoke and mirrors. They were trying to pull some Jedi mind shit with Brooklynn’s hotness. Who were they? Why? Where was Oliver? This all had to be connected.

Brooklynn moved in close, placing her hand lightly on his right forearm, the contact sending a jolt through his system.

Chuckling, he raised his brows and shook his head, “Sorry, I think I gapped out or something,” he apologized.

“That’s okay,” she assured, tilting her head slightly and sucking her bottom lip seductively in between her teeth.

Pulling his arm out from under the feathery light touch of her fingers, he moved back toward his own side of the room, “You, ah knew Oliver’s last roommate?” he inquired.

Her eyes sparkled, as the grin on her face spread, “A little.”

Deacon nodded. He was about to ask about the football player Bear, but the voice warned him against tipping his hand that he knew something was out of kilter. “I guess that’s enough to get him through for a few days,” he said, forcing a smile.

Looking into the plastic bag, “What do you think, toothbrush maybe?” she asked, wrinkling her nose cutely.

Deacon pointed to Oliver’s bathroom kit, “Maybe just take the whole thing,” he suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

“Good idea,” she agreed, walking over and picking up the small plastic case.

Watching her walk, body swaying he averted his eyes when she stopping, glancing down at his hands, surprised to find them shaking. Physically he ached for Brooklynn but there was something else about her, something dark, something that made him afraid.

“I suppose that’s it for the time being,” she said, dropping the kit into the bag with Oliver’s other stuff.

Deacon nodded but kept silent.

Glancing at his guitar, “I still want you to play for me sometime,” she stated.

He smiled, “Sure, I would be happy to,” he replied. If he were a moth, she was a raging wildfire.

Moving toward the door, she lingered a moment, a touch of color in her alabaster cheeks, “Later Deacon,” she breathed touching her fingers to her lips and blowing him a kiss before exiting.

Waiting a minute or so, he let out his pent up breath, “Sweet mother of Christ.”

Closing the door, he returned to his bed, picking up his cell phone.

Back in Brooklynn

Exiting Oliver and Deacon’s room, Brooklynn walked casually down the corridor, keenly aware of the appreciative stares she was getting from other dorm dwellers, though none dared meet her gaze. Not that it mattered overly much to her, her attention focused on the electric sensation of Cam pressed up against her loins, keeping her in a hyper-state of arousal.

Deacon amused her, a bit of a fish out of water. She could sense him struggling with her presence, but there was something else to him, some veiled quality underlying his demeanor. Suspicion? She pondered it while she returned to the Omega Pi house.

Entering the house, she sought out Sersei, finding Cam’s sister upstairs in her won room.

“How did it go?” Sersei inquired.

Brooklynn made a slight face and shrugged, “I’m not sure, he seemed, I don’t know guarded,” she replied.

“Guarded? Guarded how?” she asked, frowning. Did she send the wrong response?

“Suspicious maybe, just a sense I got off him. I would absolutely love to take him by the way,” she stated with a mischievous grin.

Sersei nodded. Was Deacon a potential threat? Not really. Worst came to worst, the sisters could always manufacture some sexual assault type scandal and get him expelled if not charged and formally registered.

“Anything new on Oliver?” Brooklynn queried.

Sersei shook her head, “Not yet,” she replied.

“I think I need a little alone time,” Brooklynn stated.

“I thought you had Cam?” Sersei countered.

“I do,” Brooklynn replied, extending her hand out and taking Sersei by the wrist. Bringing Sersei‘s hand back to her body, she placed it over her privates.

Feeling the tiny shape of her brother’s body beneath the fabric, Sersei chuckled softly, “Okay then,” she said, withdrawing her hand.

Excusing herself, Brooklynn left Sersei, returning to her room. Removing the towel barricading the bottom of the door, she entered the room then re-set the towel on the inside.

Moving to the center of the room, she reached her arms overhead, stretching languidly, a soft sound escaping her lips.

Slipping her left thumb into the waistband of her pants and her panties, she pulled them out, smiling down at the tiny slumbering figure lying in the padded gusset of her underpants.

Reaching into her pants with her right hand, she collected Cam, the tiny boy’s eyes fluttering open.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to this,” she purred, releasing her hold on her pants.

“Please, a little food first,” Cam petitioned.

Brooklynn, “I’m so sorry, I plum forgot,” she replied, moving to the desk where she had put down the little piece of chicken. It wasn’t there. “I thought for sure,” she muttered, shaking her head. Walking toward the bed, she set Cam down. “Tell you what, after we’ve had a chance to get reacquainted, I’ll get you something fresh,” she offered, returning to the center of the room.

What could he say? No?

Seductively she began to disrobe, peeling her form fitting yoga pants off before divesting herself of the white and pink t-shirt she wore.

Eyes downcast, Cam seemed resigned to the unfolding situation.

From his place of concealment atop the desk, Oliver looked on. Never before in his life had he seen a woman so perfectly formed and spectacularly well put together, physically perfect. She was a goddess in the flesh.

Setting free her breasts, she tossed the bra aside before wiggling her hips and pulling down her panties.

Watching her, it was almost hypnotic for Oliver to see this stunning creature in motion, a shark circling its prey.

Barely able to restrain her excitement, Brooklynn looked down on Cam, pink tongue sweeping back and forth across her bottom lip. Visiting Deacon with Cam held hostage in her panties had almost driven her batty with want. The question she wrestled with now was what to do first. How did she want to play with him? Pulling her bottom lip back into her mouth, a smile blossomed on her face. Bouncing to the desk, she pulled open the top drawer and removed an ‘H’ shaped elastic bandage.

“Perfect,” she murmured, tearing open the paper wrapping and dropping it on the top of the desk before removing the bandage. Peeling the plastic backing away from the bandage, she walked back to the bed, scooping Cam up in her left hand. Positioning his body face up along the anterior aspect of her right index finger, his head toward her fingernail, she wrapped the bandage around both his midsection and the middle knuckle of her finger. Lifting her hand in front of her face, she grinned and wiggled her finger, the fold of his waist aligning with the knuckle.

The pressure from the bandage across his thighs and abdomen was firm but not so much so that it was oppressive to Cam, though he knew the tacky adhesive would likely remove any body hair there.

Giggling, Brooklynn bent her finger back and forth a couple of times, “My very own finger puppet,” she chuckled before climbing up onto the bed and lying on her back.

Knowing trying to resist was futile, Cam simply went limp against the bandage.

Getting comfortable, Brooklynn teased herself using the little hostage taped to her finger, moving him lightly in and around each of her excited nipples before bringing him up to her mouth and planting a light kiss on him, her lips covering the entirety of his tiny face.

Oliver could definitely see the level of her arousal rising, both in the rate of her breathing and the way she was writhing. He knew there was something so wrong with the way she was pleasuring herself using his friend, but he still found it incredibly erotic

Sliding Cam through the soft frilly folds of her outer vagina, Brooklynn arched her back, releasing a soft gasp as she pushed her finger and Cam with it into the opening of her sex, the heated slick flesh parting and swallowing both. She moved him in and out of her pussy, the increasing cadence of her pace intensifying her desire, her hunger.

Shuffling forward to improve his ability to see, Oliver observed mutely, Brooklynn’s magnificent flesh begin to glisten with perspiration as she approached climax. With an audible gasp, she convulsed slamming her legs together and flipping over onto her side facing Oliver, big green eyes screwed shut, mewls of pleasure escaping her parted lips.

Shuddering one final time, Brooklynn rolled supine, withdrawing her fingers from her sloppy sex, tracing her right index finger over her mound and up the groove in her tight stomach, moving Cam in a slow lazy circle around the crown of her right breast.

Bringing Cam over her face, his arms and legs dangling limply, giving Oliver the impression his former roommate was unconscious, “That was exquisite, do you want to go again?” she purred, flicking her tongue out at his feet.

Suspicious Minds

Finishing his work early, Stan returned home, figuring he could burn off a few hours working on the Charger. Throwing open the garage’s double doors, he walked in, grabbing himself a beer from the fridge. Looking at the car’s engine compartment, he cracked it and took a long pull. The phone in his shirt pocket made a generic text message sound.

Pulling out the phone, he did not recognize the number. Opening the message, it read, ‘You don’t know me but my name is Deacon and I’m Oliver’s new roommate and he said I should contact you in case anything kind of weird happened and well I’m not sure but I think something weird in going on.’

Frowning, Stan took another quaff of beer and set the bottle down before replying, ‘Hey Deacon, good to meet ya, no worries about Oliver. I got a text from him just a short time ago telling me things were getting hot’n’heavy between him and Sersei.’

‘We kind of set up a code or sorts and the response I got was wrong, could you maybe, just for my peace of mind ask him something only he would know?’ Deacon typed back.

“Huh,” Stan mumbled, unsure of what to make of the message. What could possibly be weird about the situation? Was the girl a hooker? Oliver was a great kid just a little dumb around girls. Thinking he had the perfect question for Oliver one not even his mother would know the answer to, ‘I’ll check it out,’ he sent back.

‘Thanks,’ Deacon answered.

“Alright,” Stan said. Bringing up Oliver’s contact, he typed in ‘Hey pal, you busy all weekend, or do you think there’s a chance we can get together holiday Monday?’

‘I think we’ll be tied up probably all weekend, sorry,’ came the near immediate response.

A smirk pulling up the corners of his mouth, ‘Hey no worries AD,’ Stan sent.

‘Sersei’s coming back in and she has that look in her eye so I’ll have to get back to you later.’

‘AD,’ he typed again. There was no response forthcoming. Frowning, he tapped the phone shaped icon and called Oliver’s number. The cell rang several times before going to voice mail. Maybe there was something going on. Only he and Oliver were privy to the meaning behind AD. It started out after Stan had had the birds and the bees talk with Oliver, suggesting that Oliver might want to come up with a handle for his manhood. Stan’s idea, with a name like Oliver was the Artful Dodger. Oliver had originally blushed furiously, but as the boy grew and the inside joke developed, the moniker shortened to simply AD and Oliver’s automatic response anytime Stan used it was FU. Keeping the origin of the letters to themselves, neither Stan nor Oliver bothered to offer an explanation or extrapolate for Samantha.

Still looking down at the device in his hand, “What’s going on?” he mused verbally, picking the beer up in his free hand. Granted, this Sersei looked like hell on wheels and might have put stars in the boy’s eyes, but Oliver should have, at the absolute least sent back the FU.

Going back to Deacon’s number, ‘Do you happen know where Oliver is right now?’ he inquired.

‘Another one of the Omega Pi girls named Brooklynn was here grabbing a few thing saying Oliver was at the sorority house, but that he and Sersei were planning on sneaking away for the weekend,’ was the reply.

The weekend was still a couple of days off. Hemming and hawing, Stan chugged down the rest of the brew. While it was probably nothing, Sam’s mini-melt down a few days back and the other odd things did not sit right with him. Sam was not due back until Monday and he was far ahead enough in the Kettering job, Reed would not bitch too much about him taking a couple of days off before the long weekend, maybe he should just go down to the university and pay Oliver and his little girlfriend a surprise visit. Nodding to himself, that is what he would do.

Putting the empty back in the case, he paused, contemplating whether to fire off another text message or just arrive unannounced. Wobbling his head, he started typing, ‘Yo Deacon, just a head’s up buddy, I’ve decided I’m going to come on down there tonight. If Oliver shows up, you can let him know otherwise I’d appreciate you keeping it to yourself.’

‘Will do,’ came the response.

Tucking his phone away, Stan closed up the garage and returned to the house, taking a quick leak before packing some clothes in his old boxing duffle bag. Throwing the bag in the back of the minivan, he started the engine and fastened his safety belt before putting the vehicle in gear and pulling out of the driveway.

With good roads and excellent weather, Stan was making great time on the All America City Hwy. Transitioning onto the Golden State Hwy, things took a decidedly inopportune turn for the worse when the van’s front passenger-side tire blew out just north of Bakersfield in Oil Junction. Getting the van under control, he pulled off to the side the highway.

Turns out, the van’s spare was one of those shitty little emergency tires, good for no more than a hundred miles or so. Changing the flat, he got off the highway on Olive Drive of all roads and pulled into the first garage he found only to discover that they could not help him until morning. The choice was risk continuing on the little spare, or stay overnight. Despite desperately wanting to continue, he was astute enough to choose discretion over valor. There was a hotel just up the block, so he left the van at the garage, grabbed a Starbuck’s at the corner and got himself a room at the Vagabond Inn Bakersfield North for the night.

Pulling out his phone, he checked it to see if there was anything new from Oliver but there was nothing. Strange. Texting Deacon, he let the lad know about the delay. Sitting back on the hotel bed, he crossed his arms, determined to find the underlying cause of this odd set of circumstances.

Jailbreak

After watching Brooklynn bring herself to orgasm using Cam, Oliver shuddered. Paradoxically, it was fascinating and horrifying at the same time. He knew this is what Sersei had in store for him. Like a car accident, he could not look away as the gigantic girl lay atop her bed, right hand over her lean stomach, Cam’s tiny body still bound to her finger and pinned against her flesh as she enjoyed the residual sensations of her climax.

Eventually, she sat up, emitting little sounds of delight. Swinging her legs off the bed, she tried to peel away the bandage binding Cam to her finger, the gooey adhesive making it difficult.

“Okay, super quick. Ready?” she asked, tugging on it before he could reply.

Gritting his teeth, Cam grunted, losing a significant amount of body hair as she removed the bandage.

Looking at Cam’s pink now smooth skin, “Goodness, now you know what it’s like to get waxed,” she chuckled before making a contrite face and setting him down on the bed beside her. Getting to her feet, she hastily redressed. Taking Cam up in her hand, she went to the door, removing the towel at the bottom of it and exiting the room. As the light from beneath the door blotted out, Oliver knew she was barricading him in from the other side.

Where did she intend to keep Cam during the night? He had not found a box or jar or other form of containment she could use. So where? Panty drawer? Sock? He would have to wait and see before he could formulate a proper rescue plan.

Oliver figured it was probably about a half hour before the blonde goddess returned, Cam in hand.

Replacing the towel on the inside of the door, she skipped across the room, plunking her bottom down on the bed, Cam in her palm. “I know you’ve just eaten and you shouldn’t go swimming for at half an hour, but,” she said coquettishly, big emerald eyes sparkling.

Oliver frowned. Was she going to use him again? The answer was yes, and repeatedly. Twice more she played with herself to release using Cam as her unwitting accomplice, each time deliberately prolonging the experience and teasing herself, a tigress with a mouse. As before, all Oliver could do was bear witness to the spectacle of Brooklynn and her libidinous pursuits. By the time she was finished, skin glistening with perspiration, she was facedown atop the rumpled blankets on her bed, perfect derriere up in the air, face buried in amongst the pillows to muffle cries of delight.

Flopping onto her side, Oliver could not see Cam trapped in the folds of her drooling wanton sex as she lay there panting. As her breathing rate returned to normal, she rolled onto her supine, legs parted sufficiently to allow her to reach down and find Cam’s inert form and bring him up to her head. Dangling his friend above her achingly pretty face, she closed her lips around his legs and sucked him down into her mouth.

Humming, she pushed herself into a seated position, Cam’s upper body emerging from between her pouty lips. He was prone, draped over the round of her bottom lip, arms dangling as she climbed out of bed.

Mentally, Oliver put himself in Cam’s position, though with Sersei instead of Brooklynn. How many others had there been? How could these girls be so cavalier? Another question, something darker lurked in the back of his mind. What did Melody mean when she said he was lucky it was Sersei and not Cerys? What happened to the little people once they were used up by the girls?

While Oliver contemplated those questions, Brooklynn donned a plush housecoat. Grabbing a colorful oversized beach towel, she tossed it back over her shoulder before taking her shower kit and quitting the room, an unconscious Cam half hanging out of her mouth the entire time.

Oliver knew what he had to do. He was going to wait Brooklynn out and rescue Cam. Figuring she was going to the shower or possibly getting ready for bed, he presumed he had about a half hour to get ready. Looping the tape around his forearms, sticky side out, he then repeated the process around his calves. Pressing his extremities against the side of one of the computer’s speakers, it took a little bit of trial and error to be able to ascend the smooth surface, like a human spider.

When she returned, Cam was in her hand, no longer unconscious but immobile. She deposited him on the vanity before hanging up her towel and removing her robe. Hips swaying, she slowly walked to her dresser, sliding open the uppermost drawer and pulling out a pair of frilly red panties. Thigh cut, the panties were little more than a thong. Slipping the on, she returned to the vanity, smiling down at Cam before pulling out the front of the undergarment and easing him into place against the groove in her pubis. Readjusting the fabric, “Nighty night,” she purred, tracing a finger over the almost imperceptible lump in her panties before crawling into bed and drawing the blanket up. Turning off the light, she rolled over onto her left side, pulling her right leg up.

Allowing his eyes to adjust to the gloom, Oliver listened intently to the sound and depth of her breathing, waiting for her fall asleep. It did not take very long. Retreating to the rear of the desk, he looped his hand fashion hair rope over his shoulder and took his blade in hand before pressing his forearms against the wall, applying enough force to make sure the adhesive contact could bear his weight. Next, he brought his knees over, sticking his legs to the wall. Crawling horizontally across the vertical plane of the wall, he moved toward the bed, the sound of the tape peeling away from the wall thunderous in his ears. As he approached the headboard of the bed. At the gap between the wall and the bed, he reached out tentatively, trying to bridge the chasm looming under him. Gaining enough purchase with his taped forearms, he transferred across to the headboard. Circling around to the face of the headboard, he began to descend passed the pillow and down to the mattress.

Pushing off, he landed on the edge of the mattress, pulling himself up onto the surface. Loose strands of Brooklynn hair lay over the sheet, golden silk separating him from where he was and where he needed to go if he was to save Cam. The last thing he wanted to do was inadvertently get a hair stuck to the tape and tug on it. Stripping the tape from his arms and legs, he moved stealthily over the sheet, slipping in between Brooklynn’s back and the blanket covering her. The sheer degree of warmth emanating off her surprised him. Pausing a moment in the natural hollow created by the blanket tenting off her, he waited for his eyes to adapt to the near blackness. Pupils completely dilated, it was still very hard to see while trying to navigate under the shroud covering her as he moved passed her shoulders and along the length of her back, fearing at any moment she might shift or roll. If she did, he would be either pinned or crushed by her sheer weight. Circling around the exquisite curve of her bum, there was definitely the scent of sex coming off her, permeating the air trapped under the blanket, a heady musk of her recent efforts invading his olfactory sense. 

Standing there, he had two choices, travel down the length of her leg and circle back up the other side to get to Cam, or attempt to cross over her leg to get at where his friend was confined. Reaching out in the blackness, he placed his left hand against the smooth slope of her thigh. Could he pull himself up? Would she feel him? If she did, he was toast. Not daring to risk it, he continued down her leg, crawling by the time he traveled around her massive foot.  Circling it, he moved back up to her crotch, the heat radiating off her sex intense.

Groping out above his head, his fingers met with the delicate texture of her panties. There in the darkness, he felt something rigid amidst the fleshy folds, a hand.

“Cam?” Oliver whispered.

No response.

“Cam?” he repeated. Still nothing. Using the blade, he ever so carefully cut at the threads of the panties, opening a hole he thought should be large enough for him to extract Cam. Curling the fingers of his free hand around Cam’s wrist and pulling lightly, Oliver tried to get Cam to budge but the weight bearing down on Cam prevented movement. Dropping the blade, Oliver braced his feet against her flesh and took Cam’s arm in both hands, exerting maximum effort. Slowly Cam started to slide out from between Brooklynn’s fleshy outer labia.

Shifting his grip up Cam’s arm above the elbow, Oliver grunted with exertion prying more of his friend free of the giant girl’s clinging vagina.

“Fuck me,” Oliver growled under his breath, yanking again.

Suddenly Cam popped free, toppling out on Oliver and knocking him off his feet.

Rolling up onto his knee, Oliver pivoted and leaned over Cam, gripping him by the shoulders, “Hey buddy?” he said.

Cam groaned.

“Come on man, I need you to get up right now,” Oliver urged.

“Ol-Oliver?” Cam asked, voice sounding beyond weary.

“Yeah it’s me pal, I really need you to start moving,” he encouraged.

Cam started sobbing.

Bending over, Oliver slid his arm under Cam’s shoulders and helped him into a sitting position.

“I just,” Cam choked up, “I can’t believe it.”

Brooklynn made a snuffling noise and her body shifted, shaking the mattress under the boys’ feet.

Brooklynn Under the Cover of Night

“We have to go right now!” hissed Oliver, bracing himself against Cam as Brooklynn grew still again before getting to his feet.

Voice still breaking, “Okay,” Cam replied, struggling to get to unsteady feet.

Practically dragging Cam, “This way,” urged Oliver, leading them down the inside of Brooklynn’s leg toward her foot.

Cam staggered along behind, stumbling and falling twice in an attempt to keep pace. “I’m sorry,” he wheezed.

Draping an arm across Cam’s shoulders, the proximity filling Oliver’s nose with Brooklynn’s strong scent, “It’s okay but we’re not out of this yet. Just ahead a little bit, we’re going to have to crawl. Do you think you can do that?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Cam assured, sniffling.

Fortunately, Brooklynn was not a sheets-tucked-in kind of sleeper and they were able to get out from under the blanket near the foot of the bed.

Walking near the edge of the bed and peeking over, “How are we going to get down?” Cam asked.

Oliver frowned. Good question. How were they going to get down? The hair rope was certainly not long enough to reach the floor mired in darkness. So too, there was a considerable gap between the edge of the blanket and the floor far below.

“I don’t think I can jump,” Cam said.

“Dammit! My blade,” Oliver suddenly cursed, looking back toward the slumbering mountain of girl buried under the blanket.

“What?” Cam inquired, shaking his head.

“Nothing,” Oliver replied, angry with himself. Should he go back and get it or would that be pushing his luck? If he had the blade, he could slice a strip of the fitted sheet on the mattress and with that they could get to the floor. Nodding slowly, he turned to Cam, “Wait here, I have to go back, but it’ll be fast,” he instructed.

Protest dying on his lips, Cam nodded, “Okay.”

Loping back to the blanket, Oliver wiggled under it, retracing the path he and Cam had used to escape Brooklynn. Without Cam, he made it there quickly, down on his hands and knees trying to feel for the blade. In the depression created by the gravity of her enormous weight, he found it against her skin. Curling his fingers around it, she suddenly moved, once more causing the ground to shake as this time as her leg shifted and she started to roll onto her stomach. Her enormous leg descended too rapidly for him to evade, so Oliver did the only thing he thought might save him from getting himself turned into paste, he pushed himself up against her crotch, staying close to the fabric of her panties. Her nocturnal move completed, he found himself in the narrow space between her thighs and confined against her warm pussy. Trapped as he was, the only way out was up. Putting the blade between his teeth, he grabbed hold of Brooklynn’s snug panties, using his hands to pull himself up to whence the materials vanished between the twin globes of her rounded bottom. He had no choice but to continue on his current path, it should be easy enough to leverage handholds in the crease of her firm ass, but there was the very real possibility his efforts might alert her. Sliding his fingers wedge-like into the crack, he paused, waiting to see if there was any type of reaction to his intrusion on her part. Her breathing remain deep and regular and there were no other clues she felt him. Letting out a slow breath, he placed his other hand higher up, again wiggling his fingers betwixt her globes. Pulling himself up, he relocated the first hand, like a rock hound cautiously ascending a tough climb. Bit by bit he managed to get up and over the turn in her bottom using the divine cleft of her ass, all the while quieting the shrill voice of dread in his head should she unexpectedly turn or waken. Out onto the small of her back, he crawled toward her left side, fingers stumbling over a dimple. What if she was ticklish, or thought he was a bug? He was sweating profusely. Slithering, he moved over to her side, pivoting his body so his feet were toward the mattress before backing down. Once the slope became too precipitous, he slid the rest of the way, landing softly.

“Rest easy big girl,” he said with relief, moving quickly down the side of her bod and emerging from under the blanket to find a frantic Cam near the corner of the bed.

“When she turned, I thought for sure,” said Cam, leaving the rest unspoken, voice choked with emotion.

“It’s alright, but we need to get out of Dodge like right now,” he said, clamping a hand down on Cam’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Okay,” Cam acknowledged.

Using the blade, Oliver made two parallel cuts several inches apart along the foot of the bed, creating a long strip of fabric he and Cam could use to get to the floor. Tossing the fabric over the side of the bed, “Once we get to the floor, go straight for the door. We can’t stay here in this room,” he said.

“Okay,” Cam replied.

Given Cam’s condition, Oliver was not entirely confident his roommate would have the strength to make it to the floor. Walking over, he handed Cam the braided hair rope he had made.

Cam encircled his waist, making a clumsy knot, “Is this hair?” he asked.

Oliver stepped in, “That’s exactly what it is,” he said re-tying the braid into a sturdier bowline knot before securing the other end around his own waist. “You go down first, I’ll follow. We need to try and keep as little slack in the line as possible. Can you do that?”

Cam nodded. Moving over to the strip hanging off the bed, he got down and started to lower himself.

Putting the blade back in his mouth, Oliver went over the side, pacing himself to Cam’s speed. Nearly half of the way down, Cam lost his grip, crying out.

Tightening his grip, Oliver braced himself, easily taking the weight while Cam re-established himself. Twice more this occurred and both times Oliver caught him.

Getting to the floor, Cam remained on his hands and knees waiting for Oliver, muscles aching from exertion. “I’m sorry,” he offered.

“It’s okay buddy,” Oliver assured, untying the rope from about his own waist before freeing Cam.

Climbing to unsteady feet, “Over to the door now?” asked Cam, weary eyes wide in the darkness.

Nodding, “C’mon,” Oliver urged.

At the door, the towel was securely wedged into the gap. Brooklynn had done a much more diligent job of securing her room.

Using the blade, Oliver started hacking away at the towel, pulling out strips of it until the pair were ability to get enough of it out enough to permit them passage.

Crawling partway under the door, Oliver glanced up and down the dimly lit hall. Most of the doors he could see did not have towels, meaning the rooms were more than likely blocked from the inside. If that was the case, it also meant those rooms were occupied.

Cam pulled himself in beside Oliver, “Where do we go now?” he asked, eyes scanning the hall.

Across the hall and up a bit, there was a neatly folded towel against the bottom of the door. “There,” Oliver said, pointing. He did not know who owned the room, just that whomever it was, she was not currently in it.

A Grave Proposition

Turning his head to look at Cam, “Listen,” Oliver started, “we are completely exposed out in the hall. I’ll go across and see if I can dislodge the towel enough for us to get under the door and then I’ll signal you. Listen, I know you’ve been through a lot in the last few days but you are going to need to run as fast as you possibly can because all it takes is just one of those behemoths to spot you and we will both be pooched,” he explained.

Cam nodded slowly, wearily, “Okay.”

Grinning, “It’s good to see you,” Oliver said, clapping Cam on the shoulder.

Cam smiled back, “You too.”

“By the way, you were right about your sister. That girl is a big ole bitch,” Oliver acknowledged.

Despite the utter fatigue, Cam laughed softly, “You know I don’t want to say it but I kind of have to, told you so,” he joked back.

Shaking his head, “I should of listened,” Oliver replied. Taking one more look out into the hall, ears attuned for any sound, he pulled him through and scampered rabbit-like across the corridor, crossing the open ground quickly. Grabbing the exposed corner of the towel, he gave it a firm yank, causing it to unfold slightly and come away enough to permit access. Peeking under the door into the quiet darkness beyond, he looked back to Brooklynn’s door, pausing to listen before signaling for Cam to make the dash.

Crawling out from under the door, Cam pulled himself to standing, legs nearly buckling as he started to run.

Clenching his teeth, Oliver willed Cam to hurry, the other boy’s pace agonizingly slow. “C’mon Cam,” he encouraged, motioning with his arm.

Trying to move faster than his feet would permit, Cam stumbled and fell to the floor, picking himself up and staggering back into the semblance of a run. He could see Oliver ahead and did not want to let him down. Arriving at the door, he doubled over, hands on his sides panting.

“You can catch your breath inside,” Oliver stated, putting a hand on Cam and guiding him to go under the door first. Once Cam was through, he followed, dragging the corner of the towel in behind him.

“It’s dark in here,” Cam whispered.

“Give your eyes a moment,” Oliver replied, bracing his feet against the jamb and pulling hard on the towel.

“Do you know which girl’s room this is?” Cam inquired, still breathless

“Haven’t the foggiest, but knowing my luck of late it probably belongs to Sersei,” Oliver replied dryly.

In the dark, Cam shuddered, dreading the indignities she would subject him to before casually returning him to Brooklynn. “I really hope not,” he mumbled.

“Come on, we need to find a place to get gone fast. There’s no telling when whichever girl might be returning,” prompted Oliver.

Squinting in the feeble light, “Where?” Cam asked.

Eyes darting around the shadowy interior, he spied a length of cord hanging down from a set of blinds covering the upper three quarters of the room’s window. Hanging down from the end of the blinds was a cord, knotted near the two plastic ends to keep it up off the floor. Beneath the blinds on the windowsill sat four small plants in what appeared to be terracotta planters. Although tied up, the end of the cord had a loop in it, keeping it, to his perspective thrice his height above the floor. If he and Cam could get the hair rope through that loop, they could tie it and pull themselves up to the cord and then they could use it to get onto the windowsill where the planters were. Chuckling, “There, the window, I think I have an idea,” he said.

Cam looked and shook his head, “I don’t, what?”

“Let’s go,” Oliver urged, tugging on Cam’s arm before jogging across the room to beneath the window. Tying the end of the makeshift rope in a heavier knot, he swung it around several times to generate momentum before launching it at the dangling cord. Missed. Trying again, he got it on the second try.

“Holy cow,” murmured Cam, impressed.

“Just like roping a calf,” Oliver chuckled, taking the heavy end and tying the rope’s smaller end around his waist.

“What are you doing?”

Oliver grinned and began to pull himself up the hair until he arrived at the cord. Lowering the loose end back down to the floor, “Can you pull yourself up?” he asked, bracing himself to support Cam’s weight.

Cam nodded. Taking the rope in his hands, he climbed upward, getting onto the cord.

Cam secured in the loop, Oliver shinnied up the cord, taking himself above the sill before swaying back and forth on the cord and letting go, dropping safely on the sill below before beckoning Cam to follow.

“What’s your plan?” Cam wheezed.

“I want to see if we can get inside one of these,” Oliver replied.

“Inside?”

“Up top, maybe break up some of the soil and burrow in just beneath the surface. I doubt any of them would look that closely,” Oliver replied.

“In the dirt?”

“In the dirt. The plants don’t look like they’re wilting, which means somebody is watering them. Could be a viable source of drinking water for us,” Oliver explained, nodding.

“So we’re taking a dirt nap?” Cam asked with a grin, the expression visible in the weak light peeking in through the window.

Oliver chuckled, feeling relieved to see elements of the old Cam emerging through the trauma of the last week. “That’s good way to put it.”

“You’re a lot cleverer than you look,” Cam asserted.

Oliver smiled back, “I guess that’s better than looking more clever than you are,” he replied.

“True enough,” Cam conceded.

“You think you can give me a boost up?” Oliver asked.

Leaning his back to the planter, Cam created a stirrup with his hands, “Okay,” he stated, nodding affirmatively.

Taking a couple quick steps, Oliver used Cam and propelled himself up, catching the edge of the planter and pulling himself up. This would do nicely. The soil was not too condensed and there was enough room for both of them in one planter. Returning to the edge of the planter, “Toss me up the knife and then the rope, we’ve got some work to do,” he said.

From the Frying Pan into the Fire

Not quite six o’clock in the morning with the first rays of the morning dawning in the east, Cerys ascended the dimly stairs to the second floor of the Omega house. The whole affair of trying to recapture Oliver coupled with back to back late night shifts at the hospital had left her utterly drained, tired, and eager for bed. Stopping at the door to her room, she looked down at the neatly folded towel barricading the space under it. It had been disturbed. One of the other girls? Dropping to her haunches, she examined the disposition of the linen. The towel looked like it had been disturbed, but the loose corner drawn inside as opposed to pushed in from the outside. There was zero doubt in her mind any of the other sisters would have the audacity or temerity to stage something like this to mess with her head. No. There was only plausible explanation for the towel being this way, Oliver was in her room. A cool smile crossing over her pink lips, “Well now,” she chuckled softly to herself before lifting the towel and entering the room.

Clicking on the light switch, she bathed the room in illumination and turned, re-folding the towel, placing it in the gap at the base of her door. Standing back up, she walked to her bed and set her purse down, letting out a long sigh as her eyes swept the interior of the brightly lit room. “I know you are in here Oliver,” she said, voice soft, almost hushed.

Moving over to her tall dresser, she pulled open the top drawer, removing a bottle of Nestle water and a foil wrapped Kellogg’s NutriGrain cereal bar. “I suspect you are probably pretty hungry,” she said, opening the packaging on the bar and unscrewing the green plastic cap from the water.

“These are for you,” she stated, setting the bar down on the floor before pouring a small measure of water into the bottle cap and placing it next to the bar.

Returning to her bed, she sat down on the edge, hands folded neatly in her lap. “I know this whole situation has to be hard for you right now and as the bearer of ill news, and I’m afraid it’s only going to get worse. I don’t know if you remember the gray haired woman from the ritual or not, her name is Edith Frost and she has set a deadline of tonight for your recapture. She said if we, meaning the sorority sisters, that if we have not found you by then, she will. She seemed pretty self-assured. How she planned to do it, I don’t know, we’ve all speculated she has some type of arcane ability, but,” she shrugged.

Seeing no indication of movement, “I can only imagine the jumble of thoughts going through your head right now. Let me start off by saying time is against us but let me try to explain a few things and in the end, my hope is you will surrender yourself to me,” she stated.

“There are two factions within our sisterhood, the larger and more powerful of the two are the traditionalists, those who wish to continue ritual harvesting as we have been doing. The other group are those who think the practice needs to be changed to protect not only our male offspring but others gathered for the harvest. Your mother Samantha belongs to the second group. Please Oliver, understand she did not want this for you, ever. I know what you’re thinking, if that was the case, why are you here then? There was no way she or the others seeking to bring about change could openly defy the ruling council of the sisterhood, they are just too powerful, too well engrained in positions of power everywhere. Where could she take you where you would not be found? Nowhere. So in order to maintain the illusion of loyalty to the sisterhood, and more importantly to protect the movement, you needed to be subjected to the reaping. She asked me to lay claim to you because she knew I could get you away from here without suspicion. Unfortunately, I won only a second draw and Sersei established first rights to you. Because of your escape, I asked if formal claims were to be superseded, but was told no. If you turn yourself over to me, I cannot just whisk you away, no, that would also jeopardize our movement. If you surrender, I will be compelled to return you to Sersei and you would be hers for seven days before my claim becomes valid. Once that happens, we should be in the clear. I have made a point of getting the other sisters to believe I have a taste for littles so it will be easy enough to relay to them that when I was finished playing with you I ate you. We have been able to abscond with one of the Weeping Stones and so far have been able to save two others in my three years here. It’s up to you. If you think I’m lying, you don’t have to reveal yourself but I can guarantee Miss Frost will ferret you out, if Sersei doesn’t beat her to it. I think she is going to petition her grandmother for aid in about an hour or so. I can’t promise you restoration, but I can offer you a chance to survive this,” she finished, patting her palms against her thighs before getting to her feet.

“Whichever way you choose,” she said, walking toward the window, “I’ll leave the blinds up a bit so there should be enough light for you to be able to see by.”

Tracing a finger over one of the thick leaf of the Aloe plant on her sill, she turned away, walking to her closet where she began to strip down to her brassiere and panties before pulling out a nightie and donning it. Removing her bra from beneath her nightshirt, she padded over to the bed, pulling the covers back and climbing in.

To Yield or Not

Lying in what amounted to little more than a shallow grave covered by dark colored soil, “No, no,” Cam whispered harshly, “she’s the worst one. This is all just a trick. If she gets her hooks on us, she’ll eat us.”

Worried she might hear, “Shh,” whispered Oliver from his own concealment.

“You don’t understand, I listened when the other girls talking about her, she is a beast,” Cam countered.

Raising himself up from the soil to be able to peer over the orangey colored rim of the planter, Oliver stared hard at the form of Cerys under the blanket. Was her story nothing more than a lie? A ruse to draw him out in to the open? On the other hand, what if it was not and she was on the level? He was smart enough to realize his options were dwindling and fast. What did his gut say? Be wary.

Pulling himself up, “What are you doing?” Cam inquired.

“What if she is telling the truth?” Oliver replied with a slight shrug of his shoulders, dislodging some loose soil dirt perched on his shoulders.

Cam laughed, “Remember, I’m the optimist and you’re the voice of reason? Dude, she gets us and we are as good as in her stomach,” he replied.

Turning his head to look at Cam, “You call that positive?” Oliver grinned.

“We need to get out of here pronto, find another room before the whole house wakes up,” Cam suggested.

Face growing pensive, “Then what?” Oliver questioned. “We can’t survive here going from room to room. I don’t know who to trust or what to believe, but our options are narrowing with each passing minute.”

“She told you if you give yourself in she’s going to give you to Sersei, straight up. You have no idea what it’s like being used that way,” Cam said, shaking his head, “no idea.”

Oliver nodded slowly. Cam was right, how could he possibly understand what it felt like to used and abused as a sexual plaything. Seeing it was one thing, getting up close and personal was quite another.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what my sister would do to you, I swear, I don’t even know her, so goddamn cold. Here’s a funny story I never told you before, about her, well about me but something I did for her that she has no clue I did, maybe not funny haha, more like funny in an ironic kind of way. We were in high school, she was a senior and I was just a sophomore and there was this monster party at Kelly Trager’s house, superhot by the way, Kelly was, is, anyway, big blowout and me and a couple of my chums decide we’re going to crash it. Sneaking in, I don’t know if it was a fluke or providence, but I overhear our school’s biggest tool, Jimmy Connolly, bragging it up with a couple of his shithead friends laughing and joking, saying he’s got some Ro, you know Rohypnol and he’s going to use it on my sister. At the time, I have no clue about her true nature so I’m like no fucking way can I allow this. I barge into the room and confront Jimmy right there, calling him a piece of shit rapist. I throw this big haymaker punch,” Cam shared.

“Holy. Did you lay him out?” Oliver asked.

“Hell no, he handed me a world class beat down, like biblical in its scope, but it was the highlight of the party. I remember lying there with my head in Sersei’s lap, my face all pulped, she was stroking my hair,” he answered, voice quavering as it started to break.

“Dude,” Oliver said.

Cam sniffled, “I honestly thought she cared man, I mean, did she know this was going to happen the whole time?”

“Did she find out why you got lumped?”

Cam chuckled, “Rumor around school was Jimmy pounded me for crashing the party. I never told her, just thought I was doing the right thing by her. She sat there and casually watched while Kandi and Teagan took turns with me, like I was nothing,” he answered.

Oliver shook his head. How long did she know? How about his own mother? All the double entendre little man comments she would casually slip into conversation, how long? “I don’t know what to say,” he murmured.

“We can’t trust them, any of them. What we need to do is get out of this house, maybe see if we can’t somehow make it to one of the other sororities next door, get help,” Cam countered.

Oliver nodded his head slowly, “Odds of getting out of this house are slim. Crossing open ground to a neighboring house and actually finding a way into the house, probably even slimmer. Then what, ask one of those girls to take us to the cops who may or may not be involved in this conspiracy? Even if things worked out perfectly for us, we would still be small. If Cerys is on the level, there might be a chance to get out of this. I would feel a whole lot safer coming at this full sized,” he offered.

“Are you willing to gamble your life on it?” Cam asked. “Mine?”

Being honest, “I don’t know,” replied Oliver.

“You know what they did to me. She will do that to you, over and over. Bear in mind, that would be after Sersei has had a chance to satisfy every little twisted desire in her own sick head,” Cam pleaded, anger seeping into his voice.

Pursing his lips, Oliver could not dispute the other boy’s concerns. “I can only guess at the number of degrading things you’ve been subjected to since they shrunk you, truly, but if there’s a chance we can be made big again, don’t you think we have to try it?” he inquired.

“I want to be myself more than anything, I really do, but how can you believe for a moment she is telling the truth? Come on Oliver, it’s a trick,” countered Cam.

Glancing back at Cerys and pointing at the center of the immense girl’s bedroom floor to the food and water, “Trick or not, I’m going down there to get some of that bar,” Oliver said, raising an eyebrow.

Cam nodded his head slowly, “Maybe some food in your stomach will make you see reason,” he suggested.

“I’ve been pretty lucky thus far,” Oliver replied with a grin, carefully pushing the loose soil to the edge of the depression he had been lying in and grabbing the hair rope. Flipping himself down out of the planter, he moved silently across the sill and jumped out onto the blind cord, sliding down it to the bottom of the loop where he tied the hair rope. Descending to the floor via the rope, he paused to listen and make sure Cerys had not moved. Everything seemed the same. The plan was simple, hurry out to the food, grab a quick sip of water and a chunk of the bar, and get back up to the safety of the plant. Scurrying across the floor, he knelt beside the water-filled bottle top, cupping his hands and drinking deeply. The bar was more problematic, whether from caramelized sugar, or honey, it was nigh impossible to break off any kind of piece. Grunting with exertion, he stooped when he heard the sound of commotion coming from beyond the door followed by a growl of anger. Spurred to action, he spun on his heel with the intent of racing back to the window. Out of his periphery, he caught site of Cerys with her head on the pillow, facing his direction, eyes open and looking down on him, an amused little smile playing at the corner of her lips.

Grandma’s House

The text exchange with Oliver’s stepdad Stan left Sersei somewhat befuddled. She was pretty sure there was another code embedded in the dialogue.

Putting Oliver’s phone down, she cradled her head in her hands. Time was running out. Checking her watch, it was starting to get late and she definitely needed her rest for one final gambit to draw Oliver out of hiding. A smile creased the side of her face as she contemplated her next move. It was time to play her hole card. Grandma. If some alternative means of finding a wayward little existed, she would know it. Grandma was an early riser and likely already tucked in for the night. Needing rest for herself, Sersei set the alarm on her phone for sun up and decided to grab some shuteye.

Waking up early, Sersei lay in bed and stretched languidly, feeling reinvigorated, rejuvenated, the sounds of footsteps out in the hall making her think it was probably Cerys returning from the hospital. She frowned. Not that she bore Cerys any particular enmity, but the other girl made a point of being aloof, remote, definitely making her hard to like.

Climbing out of bed, she decided to grab a quick shower and a bite to eat before heading out. Arriving at the sprawling spacious rancher, Sersei ascended the stairs up onto the veranda and knocked on the door, trying to peek through the gauzy material of the curtains covering the windows.

Eleanor Crawford appeared at the door, though in her seventies, with her haired dyed chestnut brown she easily looked to be in her forties if not even younger. Opening the door, “Sersei dear, what brings you by?” she asked, smiling sweetly and stepping back to permit her granddaughter entry.

“I’m sorry to intrude so early in the morning,” Sersei apologized, nodding her head contritely.

“Nonsense child, come in,” Eleanor invited, waiting for her descendent to enter before closing the door.

“I, well, time is sort of critical, and well, and I kind of stuck in a dilemma,” she hesitated, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Spit it out girl,” Eleanor directed, extending a hand toward the doorway leading into sitting room.

Letting out a pent up breath, “Okay. I don’t know if you remember but I held first claim on Oliver Haynes and he underwent the ritual the other night, but, well, somehow he managed to escape the chamber and now we can’t find him anywhere. We’ve looked everywhere, completed a full on room to room search and no luck. I swear, I think he’s dug in like a tick somewhere on the second floor of the Omega house. Miss Frost has decreed if I do not find him basically by Kent’s ritual tonight, she will claim him for herself,” Sersei explained.

“Edith Frost? I heard she was in town to oversee the taking of Samantha’s boy and now you say she has taken an active interest in your little?” Eleanor questioned, guiding Sersei to a divan into the sitting room.

Taking a seat on the divan, “I’m not sure why though,” Sersei replied, shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head.

Sitting beside her granddaughter, “Why? You needn’t burden yourself with why Edith Frost does what she does or why she does it, her motivations have always been her own,” Eleanor said. “It is odd though that she would involve herself in this rather than just allow it to play itself out,” she added.

Shaking her head, “She seemed extremely confident she would be able to find him if we could not,” Sersei offered.

Eleanor snorted, “There is no telling the depths of that woman’s abilities, she was already old when I was still your age and whatever rumors are circulating about her now are probably the same as they were for us back then. If she set her mind to it, I doubt your Oliver could hide from her for very long,” she concluded with a wry smile.

Twisting in the divan to face her grandmother, “I came here hoping maybe you might be able to lend a hand, you know, suggest a way to go or something I’ve overlooked,” she petitioned.

Eleanor chuckled, “Me?”

Placing her hands on Eleanor’s leg, “Isn’t there something you could do to help us find him before Miss Frost steals him?” beseeched the girl.

Eyes narrowing contemplatively as she pursed her lips, “Perhaps,” Eleanor replied, tapping a finger against her lips.

Sersei brightened, “Really?”

“There is a little known trick I’m aware of but it involves the use of a Weeping Stone,” she said, shaking her head. “With the recent disappearance of one of them, the keepers have been keeping them pretty well guarded.”

Perplexed, “The Weeping Stone? I don’t understand?” Sersei inquired.

Eleanor held up both hands, “Let me explain the nature of the stones to you a little more clearly dear. From what I’ve been told, or led to believe, the Weeping Stones are supposedly the actual tears of a goddess, making them a divine conduit or some such other, whether it’s true or not, who can say, but anyway that’s the lore surrounding them. That said, during a reaping the stone draws in the essence of the person being harvested before transforming it and delivering back to us as the gift we enjoy during the ritual. After the taking, a trace residue of that person’s essence remains locked in the stone. For how long, I don’t know for sure, but I think until another is taken,” she explained, pausing, “which would explain her deadline.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Sersei replied.

“The essence confined in the stone is still keyed to the original source so it can be used to trace back to the source, so I’ve heard. Think of it like a dowsing rod, except instead of looking for water you can use it to ferret out your little. It’s a rough analogy, but it’ll suffice,” Eleanor stated, holding up her right index finger.

“Do you think that would work?” she asked hopefully.

Eleanor waffled her head from side to side, “I honestly don’t know. Only the keepers of the stones would know for sure. Obviously Vesper is the tenders for this house so she would be in a better position to know,” she supplied.

Smile appearing on her lovely face, Sersei perked up, “And if she were willing to loan it to me I could use the stone and track Oliver?” she queried.

Tapping a finger to her lips, “On your own probably not, but Vesper more than likely know how to do it if it were possible,” Eleanor mused.

Expression darkening, “If it is possible, I don’t understand why Vesper or Miss Frost didn’t suggest the possibility of using the stone to find Oliver in the first place,” Sersei harrumphed.

Eleanor smiled and held up her hands, “I couldn’t say dear.”

Gears turning inside her blonde head, Sersei nodded slowly. If she could convince Vesper, Oliver was as good as hers.

Blonde Ambition

Standing in the hall, bathrobe wrapped around her body, “No!” exclaimed Brooklynn loudly, the anger in her expression dong nothing to diminish the sheer quality her loveliness.

“I’m sorry,” Acacia hastily apologized, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her button nose.

Raising her hands, “Enough of this,” Allie stated in a firm tone as she looked first at Brooklynn and then Acacia.

Turning to Allie, Brooklynn snorted. “Cam is gone,” she stated, voice loud bordering on a near bellow.

Scowling, “That may be, but it is still very early and several sisters are still sleeping,” Allie informed, pointing at the door leading to Cerys’ room.

“You don’t understand, Cam didn’t just run away, he was cut out of my panties, like actually cut!” Brooklynn retorted.

“Cut?” Allie questioned, shaking her head.

“Cut,” Brooklynn answered, making a slicing motion with her left hand, “like from the outside.”

“Oliver,” Allie breathed.

A door opened and Harmony appeared in the hall, running a hand through long unruly hair. “What’s going on?” she asked, frowning.

Acacia stepped up to her roommate, “Oliver cut Cam out of Brooklynn’s panties,” she explained, eyes darting in the direction of the irate blonde.

Harmony made a face, “Cut?”

Turning to the freshman, “With that little razor blade thingy he made, and not only that, he sliced up my fitted sheet too, Egyptian cotton,” she snapped.

Hazel eyes huge behind her glasses, Acacia shook her head, “I know you’re really peeved, but holy cow, you’re lucky he only cut your panties. What if he decided to cut you?” she stated.

The interrogative quieted the conversation as each of them contemplated what it meant.

Allie spoke first, nodding slowly, “That’s true. If you were sleeping and didn’t feel him, he could have hurt you,” she offered.

Frowning slightly, the thought had not occurred to Brooklynn.

“How did he get up onto your bed in the first place?” Harmony asked meekly.

Eyebrows raising, Brooklynn turned to her, “Tape. There was some little pieces of tape near the head of my bed, next to the pillow,” she answered.

“Scotch tape?” Allie asked.

“Here, let me show you,” Brooklynn replied, moving back to the open door leading into her room.

Looking at the pair of freshman pledges, “You two should just go about your normal routine for the time being,” Allie instructed, dismissing them before joining Brooklynn.

In the blonde girl’s room, Allie walked over to the head of the bed and examined the bits of tape Oliver left behind, noting they were clear of any type of linen fiber, suggesting more than likely the lad had used the adhesive to scale across the wall to gain access to the bed.

Standing behind Allie, arms folded under her remarkably perfect bosoms, “Because Cam had outside help, finders keepers should not apply when he is found,” Brooklynn urged.

Allie glanced back over her shoulder at the other girl, “I’m not sure what the precedent might be in a situation like that,” she confessed, shrugging.

Brooklynn shook her head, blonde hair bouncing, “I want my little Cam back,” she asserted.

Turning her head back, Allie picked up one of the little scraps of tape and tested the adhesive strength against the wall, “I realize that,” she replied, pulling the tape back.

“As president, can’t you make the call? You’re supposed to get him after Kandi, but we swapped days and if another sister finds him, won’t you be forfeiting your claim?” inquired the blonde, tone persuasive.

She nodded, “Given the uniqueness of the situation I’ll make the ruling that all existing claims will stand my own personal stake regarding Cam notwithstanding,” Allie answered.

Nodding slowly, Brooklynn let out a relieved breath, demeanor softening as things seemed to be aligning with her wants.

Looking at the other pieces of tape, Allie chuckled, turning her head to look at and follow the length of fabric cut into a strip from the sheet, “I have to hand it to Oliver, this is pretty daring,” she commented, chuckling slightly.

Brooklynn smiled devilishly, “I wish I had caught him,” she purred, sucking her bottom lip in between her teeth, green eyes sparkling.

Eyebrow rising, “Those claims would still have been valid too,” informed Allie.

“I know, just saying if I caught him in the process, and he was armed, I would be well within my rights to defend myself or restrain him from causing me harm,” she replied slyly.

“Uh huh, I can imagine what your definition of restrain might include and how long it might take before you felt safe,” Allie responded with a knowing little laugh.

Putting on an innocent angelic face, “Two, three hours tops,” contended Brooklynn, making a crossing her heart motion with her right index finger.

Straightening up, Allie turned her attention to the desk, examining it. Turning her head, she walked over to the vanity, noting a few spots of cream on its surface. Picking up the La Belle Vie jar, she unscrewed the lid and looked inside. Shaking her head, she laughed.

“What is it?”

“I think I found where Oliver was hiding,” she said, turning and showing Brooklynn the jar of cream in her hand.

The blonde shook her head, “I don’t think so, no, wait, really?” she asked, uncertainty in her voice as she walked over next to Allie and looked into the jar.

The brown haired girl nodded, “I highly doubt anybody would have actually thought to look inside here,” she replied, re-fastening the glass lid.

Monroe appeared in the doorway, broad smile on her comely face, “There you are, there’s a man at the door named Stan, says he’s looking for Oliver or Sersei,” she said, spreading her hands apart.

Allie nodded and set the jar of cream back down before looking at the heavy chested Monroe, “Alright, tell him I come down and see him,” she replied.

Nodding, Monroe swiveled on the spot and vanished to relay the message.

Looking at Brooklynn, “Tag along and look pretty, let’s see what this Stan is after,” Allie instructed.

The Man with the Plan

Up early, Stan grabbed himself a Starbuck’s before walking over to the garage to wait for them to open up. Twenty minutes later, he was on the road and an hour after that he arrived at university parking. Knowing exactly where the room was, he entered the dorm and made his way there directly. Using his knuckles, he rapped sharply three times.

A shirtless scruffy young man with unkempt brown hair answered the door.

Nodding and extending a strong, callused right hand, “Deacon right?” Stan asked.

Taking the mitt, Deacon nodded, “You’re Oliver’s stepdad Stan?”

Stan nodded back, “Sorry I’m late, like I messaged in the text, I had a stupid flat. So what’s the skinny?” he asked, pushing passed the youth and into the room

Feeling a little sheepish, “Like I texted you, Oliver and I set up a question and answer kind of code and I don’t think whoever was on the other end was Oliver. Now that I’ve had a chance to sort of think about it, maybe it’s probably nothing, I don’t know,” Deacon replied, shrugging his shoulders.

Stan nodded before reaching and clapping a big hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Hey don’t worry Deke, I know you’re just looking out for my boy, so hey, if it’s nothing, the three of us can joke about it around some burgers tonight,” he assured. “My treat.”

Deacon smiled.

Checking is watch, “I know it’s still early, but why don’t you point me at the sorority house where Oliver’s holed up,” Stan suggested.

“Give a minute to throw some clothes on so I could go with and show you,” offered Deacon.

Not sure, what if anything was going on, Stan felt something was off kilter and wanted to keep Deacon out of it for the time being. “For the moment let’s keep you out of it, you know, just in case there is some squirrely shit going on. That gives me an idea. Our code word will be squirrel. If you get a text from me, that word has to be in it, and same goes for you. If you text me, make sure you use that word,” Stan instructed, angling his head to the side.

Still feeling a little foolish for maybe blowing the situation out of proportion, Deacon was relieved Stan had come. The man oozed a sort quiet confidence behind his friendly smile that put the boy at ease.

Following Deacon’s directions, Stan drove over to the Omega house then rolled slowly passed before pulling up alongside the curb and parking a couple houses further down the street.

Studying the great big house, he got the impression something was wrong, some dark thing he could not quite put his finger on. Whatever it was, it made him shudder like someone walking over his grave.

Climbing out of the van, he walked back to the large three story houses, eyes glancing up at the prominent Greek letters ornamenting it. “Here goes nothing,” he murmured, taking the stairs two at a time and crossing the veranda to knock on the door.

Wearing magenta colored shorts and a thin white sleeveless t-shirt, massive braless breasts straining against the fabric, “May I help you?” she inquired, dazzling a mouthful of gorgeous white teeth at him as she smiled.

Requiring every ounce of willpower to refrain from looking down at the girl’s perfect double-d sized breasts as her nipples hardened and became visible through the veil of taut fabric, Stan gave her a friendly smile, “I’m looking for Oliver, or Sersei, either will do,” he advised, wondering to himself if tits that unbelievably amazing were even legal.

Contemplative expression crossing her lovely features, she looked down a moment before back at him, “Hmm, I don’t think they are here at the moment,” she answered, beaming another smile at him as she slowly shook her head.

“What’s your name gorgeous?” he inquired.

“Monroe,” she replied coquettishly.

“Monroe? Like Marilyn, very apt because you are certainly an absolute stunner,” he praised, flashing another smile. “It’s okay, I know he’s here, so maybe you could be a doll and run go fetch him for me?”

The smile disappeared from her face as the corners of her mouth pulled down into a frown, “I,” she hesitated.

“I’ll wait,” he said, pushing passed her into the foyer.

“Wait,” she scowled, “who are you?”

“Where are my manners sweetheart, Stan, Stan is my name,” he answered, extending a hand.

Taking his hand, she gave it a quick shake, “I don’t think I can help you Stan,” she stated, releasing his hand and giving her shoulders a decidedly noncommittal shrug.

Looking passed the blonde into the interior of the house, “Then maybe you can get one of the other girls here to give me a hand,” he replied, still holding his friendly smile but infusing some authority into his tone.

Shaking her head, “I can check, but,” Monroe stated before she turned and ascended the stairs leading up to the second floor.

Stan couldn’t help but take a quick sneak peek at the girl’s devilishly shapely shorts clad rump as she departed, “God I wish I was twenty again,” he murmured with a slight chuckle.

Down the hall, a gray haired woman emerged from the kitchen. The color of her hair did not match the youthful appearance of her very attractive face as she turned to look at him.

She was stunning but some innate built in warning bell rang in his head, encouraging him to leave and quickly. What the hell? Did he know her? She looked familiar. A friend of Sam’s? He shook his head. Older. Further back, deeper in his memory, before his mother’s accident, when he was a boy. That was almost thirty years ago and the woman looked unchanged, immune to the ravages of time.

The woman angled her head slightly to the side as if she too were dredging through old memories trying to find a name to match to the face. The left side of her mouth lifted, giving her a vulpine smile.

Monroe returned, breasts jouncing as she hurried down the stairs, her descent and the effect gravity was playing on her huge tits pulling his eyes away from the beautiful gray haired woman.

Smiling at him, “Our president Allie said she will be down in a moment,” Monroe announced.

Returning a halfhearted distracted smiling to the well-endowed girl, “Um, thanks,” he replied, eyes drifting back down the hall but the familiar seeming gray haired woman had vanished.

Friends until the End

Seeing Cerys looking directly at him, Oliver froze, not out of fear, but because he instantly realized flight was futile and he did not wanted to jeopardize Cam’s hiding spot. Sitting down cross-legged on the carpet, he waited for the gigantic girl to make her move.

Pushing herself up on an elbow, she kept her glacial blue eyes locked on him and swept the blanket back off her body.

The voices coming from the hall were loud enough for him to hear, and loud enough for Cerys to hear. Cam’s absence had been discovered. The smile on her face broadened as she slid her legs slowly over the edge of the bed, fearing any sudden move might send him scurrying.

Something Stan used to say made Oliver smile, “Go big or stay home,” he murmured, watching Cerys slither off the bed and approach him like a snake uncoiling for an unsuspecting mouse. Except he was suspecting. He knew she had staged the food scene to draw him out of hiding. Not that hungry motivated him, no, he knew his odds of remaining free were dwindling. He also knew there was zero mathematical probability he would be able to get himself restored on his own. After all the horrors Cam had been subjected to, Oliver took it upon himself to see if she was on the level.

Getting down on her hands and knees, Cerys lowered her face down close to Oliver, hands to either side of him.

Looking up at her face, “I have absolutely no reason to trust you, no reason to believe anything that dribbles out of your mouth is anything but a self-serving lie, and despite that, here I am,” he said, spreading his hands apart. Being this close to her and under her scrutiny was unnerving, but he held his ground.

“And Cameron?” she inquired, asking in a whisper.

“Can you help us?” he asked, maintaining his gaze so as not to betray Cam’s location.

“Us? So he is here somewhere?” she asked, glancing to where Oliver had appeared, to her left toward the window, the length of blonde hair rope still tied to the cord for the blinds.

“That’s an irrelevant question. What I need to know is whether or not you are going to do what you said you were going to do and help us,” Oliver asserted.

“I will do all I’m able, but understand, like I said I will have to turn you over to Sersei,” she explained, still keeping her voice low despite the quietness in the hall.

“I know,” he acknowledged. “What about Cam? Can you get him away from here? Take him somewhere safe?”

Cerys hesitated a moment, “Possibly, but I’m honestly not sure,” she admitted, shrugging.

“Fair enough,” he conceded.

Looking toward the door, “It sounds as if the sisters out there are aware of your intervention in Cam’s liberations, so if I tell them I found you here in my room, I don’t think it would be much of a stretch for them to think that Cam is probably somewhere in here too,” she explained.

Nodding, Oliver found her argument sound. Might it be possible to stash him somewhere in here the girls would not think to look, some place that would not make Cerys look complicit?

Seeing him mentally wrestling, “Time is certainly not our friend. I don’t think we have more than a handful of minutes to come up with a viable solution before they start pounding on my door,” Cerys offered.

Cam listened intently, while it was hard to hear Oliver, he did hear her last comment. The pit of his stomach dropped and he really wished Oliver had not gone down there because he absolutely did not trust Cerys. Everything he heard about her suggested she was just plain evil. Oliver risked everything to save him. Could he do any less? Dislodging some of the soil covering him, he crawled to the edge of the planter, propping himself up enough to peek over the rim and look at Cerys and Oliver. Should he join them? He was afraid. Mustering up what little remnants of courage he still possessed, Cam revealed himself by standing upright in the planter. “Here!” he belted out, raising his hands above his head and waving them back and forth.

Turning her head, she spotted Cam. Pushing herself back onto her heels into a seated position, she put her hands on her thighs and nodded slowly before getting up to her feet and crossing the floor to the window. Reaching her right hand down, she lifted Cam carefully out of the planter and returned to the center of the room where Oliver stood. Sitting back down, she put Cam next to Oliver.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Oliver chastised.

Cam chuckled, “Kind of did,” he replied, nodding slowly.

Reaching down over the two boys, Cerys picked up the bar and crumbled off a few pieces before setting it back down. “I don’t know when you’ll have another chance to eat, so please, go ahead,” she encouraged.

While neither boy was particularly hungry, given their current predicament they both seized on the opportunity to fill their bellies, quickly gobbling up the pieces of bar. Food and water were at too much of a premium to pass them up.

Keeping her triumphant face expressionless, Cerys sat back on her heels, glacial blue eyes bright and alert as she quietly watched the boys eat. Her gambit to draw them out had succeeded.

 There was an insistent knocking at the door, “You awake?” Brooklynn’s voice.

Letting out a breath, Cerys looked down at the two lads, “Ready?” she asked, smile breaking out on her face.

Exchanging a quick glance with Cam, Oliver nodded.

Getting to her feet, Cerys bent at the waist and collected Oliver in her left hand, Cam in her right before lifting them up off the ground. “A minute,” she said, moving toward the door.

Tipping her head back, she opened her mouth wide and brought her right hand above it. Opening her hand, Cam clung front her index finger, feet dangling over her gaping maw. Snaking her tongue out, she flicked it at his kicking feet, the contact causing him to lose his grip and tumble into her mouth. Closing her lips around Cam, she brought her head back down before elevating Oliver up to the front of her throat and pressing him flat against the smooth surface. There was motion coming from under her skin as her throat opened and closed, swallowing Cam.

What just happened?

Pulling Oliver back away from her neck, she smiled wide and opened mouth, tongue snaking out and licked first her lower and then upper lip.

“What did you just do?” Oliver asked, eyes round. Where was Cam? Her mouth was empty.

Reaching down to the doorknob with her now empty right hand, she chuckled and opened the door.

Stand and Deliver!

Standing in the foyer of the Omega Pi house, the unsettling feeling in Stan’s gut did not go away even though the gray haired woman did. Why did she set him off?

“There they are,” announced Monroe, extending a hand up the stairs toward two young women, one a very attractive brown haired girl, the other an unbelievably beautiful blonde who simply captivated his attention. Monroe herself was gorgeous, but paled in comparison to the other blonde girl.

“Stan?” asked the brunette, tone authoritarian.

Tearing his eyes off Brooklynn, he looked at Allie and nodded, “Um yeah, sorry, I’m here looking for Oliver or the girl here he’s seeing, Sersei,” he said, clearing his throat.

Frowning, “I’m sorry Stan, you missed them by about an hour, I think they decided to head up the coast for a few days,” stated Allie.

Brooklynn glanced back up the stairs.

Stan got the impression the blonde girl’s attention was divided. Was Oliver up there? Turning to the other girl, the leggy brunette, “Sorry, I didn’t get your name, but I’m guessing you’re the gal in charge here, Allie? Am I right?” he queried, extending a hand.

Looking at the hand, she did not take it, crossing her arms across her breasts instead. “It is still fairly early and I think perhaps you should leave,” she urged.

Brooklynn looked at him, green eyes narrowing. “Go,” she directed.

Getting the very definite sense he was interrupting something, Stan raised his hands, “Whoa, slow down a moment here ladies, I’m just want to talk to Oliver, that’s all,” he explained.

“Obviously he’s not here,” the blonde declared angrily.

The anger in her face making the already stunning girl only more achingly beautiful, “Sersei then?” he asked, wishing he had gone to university instead of going into construction.

Allie smiled condescendingly, “Like we’ve already told you, she isn’t here either, so please,” she stated, enunciating her words slowly, “leave.”

Stan chuckled, “Sure, I’ll leave, after I’ve had a chance to speak to Oliver,” he replied, not moving.

“Are you stupid? He’s not here,” Brooklynn snapped.

“Oliver!” Stan called out.

Turning to Monroe, “Call the police,” Allie instructed. “Tell them we have an intruder.”

“OLIVER!” Stan hollered over top of the girls.

The gray haired woman appeared in the hall, moving effortlessly toward the foyer, her fluid movement making almost seem as if she were gliding, “What is all the fuss?” she asked, smiling.

Looking at her flawless face, that knot in Stan’s gut returned. There was no doubt in his mind she was the same woman he had seen when he was a boy. The hairstyle might have changed, but those eyes, green like a glacier fed lake and luminous, practically glowing, he would never forget those eyes. How could it possibly be so? That was thirty years ago and she did not look a day over thirty. It could not be.

“Sorry Miss Frost, but this man refuses to leave,” Allie stated.

Edith turned her head to look at the stubborn man, those green eyes boring into him, “Is there a problem?” she asked, lips parting into a civil smile.

Stan cleared his throat. “I’m just here to try and have a chat with Oliver or Sersei for that matter,” he explained, manufacturing a smile he hoped appeared genuine.

Edith’s smile widened, “I’m afraid what the girl have told you is true, neither Oliver nor Sersei is available to speak with you at this time,” she said calmly, placing her hand in the center of his chest.

Run! “Oh,” he murmured, glancing down at the delicate fingers.

“Sersei should be returning shortly and I’m sure the girls wouldn’t mind if you waited. Let it never be said the sisters of Omega Pi are inhospitable,” she said, withdrawing her hand.

Stan felt confused, unable to think. What? Having been in boxing for a bunch of years, the sensation he felt was almost the same as being clipped on the chin by a surprise uppercut.

Turning to Allie, “Why don’t you take our guest into the sitting room, he’s looking a little peaked. Something to drink maybe?” Edith suggested.

His legs felt leaden, heavy. There was something wrong. Shaking his head, the motion making him feel queasy, “No, it’s okay, I should go,” he replied, staggering back a step and bracing himself against the wall near the door.

“This way Stan,” Allie said, stepping in beside him, grabbing his arm.

Regarding him, “Stan?” Edith inquired, angling her head.

Brooklynn stepped in on the side opposite Allie, sliding her hands under his arm and pressing herself against him.

Stan knew he was reeling, on the ropes. Twisting free of the girls, he moved toward closer to the door. When did they close it? He could feel their eyes on him.

Open mouth smile on her face, “Looking for Oliver Haynes, you wouldn’t happen to be Stan Taylor perchance, Samantha Haynes’ current beau, would you?” Edith inquired.

Fumbling for the knob, Stan ignored her, pulling the door open before shuffle-stepping out onto the veranda. The whole world seemed to be spinning. Run!

Edith followed him out, “You really appear to be in no condition to drive Mr. Taylor,” she said.

Stumbling down the stairs, he righted himself as best he could, but it was hard to breathe and he could not seem to swallow.

Edith walked to the top of the stairs and stopped, folding her arms under her breasts, she looked down on him, coy little smile on her lovely face. “I really do think it might be wiser if you were to just come inside,” she invited, the other girls assembling on either side of her on the veranda.

“Why do I feel like this,” he mumbled, dropping to knees after only a few steps. The spasm in his stomach made him puke, spattering vomit half on the walk, half on the grass. Swiping a hand across his mouth, he forced himself back up onto unsteady feet, taking a half dozen halting paces, vision swimming.

Watching the man struggle, an amused expression on her face, “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather come inside?” Edith asked.

Trying to quicken his pace, Stan hazarded a glance back over his shoulder, the motion making his belly threaten to heave again. What had come over him? Had he been poisoned?

“Should we go get him?” Allie inquired.

Edith looked up and down the block and shook her head, “Let him run for the moment,” she stated, smile vanishing from her face.

Brooklynn turned to Allie, “Can I go?” she asked, desperately wanting to get back upstairs to see if Cerys was awake, and more importantly, whether Cam was in her room.

Allie nodded, eyes still watching Stan as he pulled himself into the minivan parked just up the street.

Edith’s eyes narrowed. There was something extremely unusual about that man and it was something she could not quite put her finger on. Committing the license plate to memory, she remain, watching intently as the vehicle pulled away.

The Cost of Betrayal

“YOU BITCH!” Oliver screamed at the top of his tiny lungs, struggling uselessly against Cerys’ fingers as she held him fast and opened the door.

Brooklynn’s eyes widened at the sight of tiny squirming figure trapped in the other girl’s hand, “Oh my god you found him!” she exclaimed excitedly, broad grin appearing on her beautiful face as her eyes lit up. Her brain registered the captive was not Cam. “Wait, is that Oliver?” she asked, looking closer.

Cerys nodded slowly, Cheshire grin spreading capriciously on her face.

Curling up her right hand, Brooklynn waggled an index finger at him, “You are in a lot of trouble right now little one,” she scolded playfully

Going still, tears welled up in Oliver’s eyes as he looked to the immense blonde haired girl, “She ate Cam, just ate him,” he indicted, thrashing anew against his confinement.

Glancing back up to Cerys, Brooklynn blinked a couple of times and frowned, “What?” she demanded,

“You know the rules. You couldn’t look after what was yours so finders’ keepers,” Cerys replied, smiling cruelly, smugly.

A storm cloud of anger swept into Brooklynn’s green eyes, “No, that’s not how it was supposed to go because he had help!” she yelled, pointing at Oliver. “The order of claim was still intact!”

Cerys snorted, “Too bad, so sad,” she chuckled pushing passed Brooklynn, entering the hall.

Clenching her teeth, murder dancing in her limpid eyes, “This isn’t over,” Brooklynn seethed. “Not by a long shot”

“What’s done is done,” Cerys chided, meeting the blonde’s hard look with one of her own.

The two girls remained locked in a stare down, fire and ice, neither willing to back down. The sound of the front door closing broke the moment. Turning, Brooklynn, followed closely by Cerys moved down the hall, the pair descending the broad stairs at the front of the house just as Monroe, Allie, and Edith stopped in the foyer.

Putting the hand containing Oliver forward, “I found this in my room,” she declared triumphantly.

Looking at the tiny head peeking out from the brunette’s fist, “Oliver?” Allie questioned.

“She found and devoured Cam,” Brooklynn indicted.

Letting out a breath, Allie shook her head, asking, “First off, how did you get Oliver to reveal himself and did you swallow Cam?”

“I basically just storied Oliver about how I could save him, and then I overhead the sisters in the hall and realized I more than likely also had Cameron in my room as well,” she said smugly. “Two little birds, one stone.”

“Who you ate, you heartless fucking monster!” Oliver spat, little face twisted.

Face darkening, “The order of claim for Cam was to hold because of Oliver’s interference,” Allie stated.

Cerys shrugged, “Oops.”

Edith held up a hand, “Enough of this,” she stated, extending her free hand to Cerys. “The boy,” she demanded.

Nodding, Cerys deposited Oliver in Miss Frost’s palm. “You are second in line for this one?” she asked, curling her long slender fingers around Oliver and holding up the hand.

Cerys nodded, “Yes I hold second claim, plus, I think you stated special consideration would be granted to the sister responsible for his capture,” she reminded, angling her head slightly to one side.

Edith nodded slowly, “You are correct I did say that, but for your deliberate and willful haste in consuming young mister Crawford with little regard for the situation compels me to resolve this in a way that communicates my displeasure. You will forfeit two of your days to Brooklynn, two to Allie, and Harmony’s claim will be placed before yours. You shall have the remaining one day with him before he becomes communal property of the house proper,” she decreed.

Lit up by the ruling, Brooklynn brought her hands up to her face to conceal her jubilation.

Allie smiled, grateful this occurred while Miss Frost was in the house and could intercede.

Seeing the reaction of the other girls, face contorting, “No, that’s not fair,” protested Cerys angrily.

“No? Who do you think you are to tell me no? Be grateful I’m even leaving you a table scrap, now be off with you before I change my mind and leave you with nothing, you stupid silly girl,” Edith barked, tone razor sharp.

Not just Cerys, but all the sisters took a step back under the force of Miss Frost’s words. No one spoke.

Knowing there was naught she could do about the decree Cerys bobbed her head quickly before breaking away and returning up to her room.

Oliver in hand, Edith marched back toward the kitchen, leaving the silent sisters standing in a semicircle in the foyer. In the kitchen, she motioned with her head for Vesper to follow, leading her down another hall to the secluded study near the rear of the house.

Following Edith Frost inside the well-appointed room, Vesper closed the door behind them before looking in askance at the gray haired woman.

Sitting down at the desk, Edith released Oliver unceremoniously onto the blotter, the tiny boy rolling over a few times and coming to a stop before she opened her hand in his direction.

Recognizing the boy, a grin bloomed on Vesper’s face as she walked over, “Well, well, well. This will certainly make Sersei a happy girl. You’ve proven yourself quite the elusive quarry here in the house Oliver,” she stated, bending slightly at the waist and placing her hands on her thighs.

Getting to his feet, Oliver turned to look at the pair of gigantic women looking down on him, eyes drifting from one to the other before settling on Vesper. “For what’s it worth, I guess I won’t be able to make it in for work today,” he said sarcastically, accepting the responsibility for Cam’s demise but masking the devastating hurt he carried in his heart.

Leaning forward, she fixed her cold emerald eyes on him, “I’m not interested in your work schedule, tell me about your mother’s boyfriend Stan,” Edith prompted with a smile, punctuating her request by strumming manicured and brightly painted nails staccato fashion on the smooth polished desktop.

A Test of Wills

Why did this woman want to know about Stan? What did she want to know? Was he here in town and raising some questions? A tiny spark of hope flared inside of Oliver, though he did his best to conceal it before a pang of guilt stabbed him as he thought about Cam slowly digesting inside Cerys. Then he began to wonder if Stan had shown up, did they grab him?

“Well?” Edith asked.

Unmoved by the sounding of the nails, Oliver stood defiant and silent; the absolute last thing he was going to do was help these harpies.

Whether it was his body language or the determined cast of his expression, the gray haired woman seemed to sense his resolve. As slow smile part her lips as her expression suddenly changed, becoming somewhat softer. Her ire from before buried behind a mask of serene composure. “You and I have met before you know, some years back but I think perhaps you do not remember me from your childhood, so this would be a good time for us to get reacquainted. My name is Edith, Edith Frost and you are Oliver, the only child of Samantha Haynes. The last time I saw you would be about ten years ago or so. Does that stir any memories?” she asked.

Ignoring the gray haired woman, Oliver instead looked toward Vesper, “Is this the fate you’ve chosen for Aventus? Your son?” he challenged bitterly.

Vesper smiled, “Of course,” she answered, shaking her head slightly as if the question were foolish.

Oliver chuckled sardonically, “Wow, guess that makes you a candidate for mother of the year material there,” he quipped.

“Aventus is of me and an absolute joy as my son. That his purpose is to nourish and sustain my sisters is an honor,” she explained.

“Kind of like 4H but for insecure vane murderers,” he replied. “Like hand raising a prize steer knowing full well the whole time you’re going to take it to slaughter, no, no, I get you now, I see where you’re coming from.”

Edith chuckled, “Your condemnation of our practices is of middling concern coming from you,” she said.

“Because you’re a sociopath with no sense of human morality,” he retorted.

“Call us by whatever name you wish, it won’t change what has and is yet to happen in your case,” she stated.

“Because you’re too afraid to look at the truth, to void of love or human emotion to understand what cold callous things you are,” he paused, chuckling softly. “I just realized, I have no delusion about returning to my former life, but in those eighteen years I lived more than either of you. I think I actually pity you,” he finished. “Hollow empty things.”

Nodding slowly, “And finally acceptance,” Edith summed up with a soft chuckle.

“Here’s a little something that’s been nagging at the back of my brain while you vampires have been preying upon the innocent, what of the fathers? Where are the fathers or are they dead too, grist for the mill?” he queried.

The two women exchanged a glance before chuckling together. Edith answered. “How hard do you think it would be for, let’s use the lovely Brooklynn for an example, how hard do you think it would be for her get any guy into a bed?” she asked, extending her hand toward the other woman. “Or Vesper? Men are simple creatures and easily swayed by baser instinct.”

Oliver frowned. “Another meaningless exchange, just random sperm donors,” he commented.

Raising her right hand and extending the index finger, “Not all of them,” she informed. “Let’s take your father. Do you know his name?”

“Stan,” Oliver replied.

“No, not him, but we will circle back to him in a moment, no your biological father. I knew him before you were born. He was still just a young man then. Charley, that was his name though I honestly cannot recall his last name now. Kind of a quiet shy boy, but quick witted and definitely not too hard on the eyes,” she shared. “Anyway, the poor thing fell head over heels in love with your mother. He had it bad for her, much like you did for Sersei,” she continued.

Swallowing hard, he desperately wanted her to stop, but deep down he also wanted to know.

Shaking her head, “The problem was, instead of doing as she was told, your mother fell for him too, simple doe-eyed fawn she was,” she chastised, letting out a prolonged sigh.

Oliver’s eyes narrowed as his brow furled. “And?”

“The goal was simple, direct, get pregnant and then break up with him,” Edith continued.

“But,” he urged.

Edith nodded slowly, “You know there always is a wrinkle in a situation like this, don’t you, so, when she got pregnant with you, she and poor love-struck Charley tried to run off together,” she shared.

Oliver scowled but said nothing.

Smile widening, “I don’t blame your mother she was still so young and naïve then. You know the saying, the heart wants what the heart wants,” she stated.

He knew the saying, but did not respond.

“My original intent was to let Charley sire a child on Sam and then disappear back into the mundane reality of his life, but when they ran off,” she started, letting out a long breath and glancing at Vesper. “Well that just couldn’t be,” she finished, turning her attention back to Oliver.

“So you killed him,” he indicted.

Edith chuckled, “We took him. I had your mother share in his harvesting while you were inside her. Then, to make sure she understood the ramifications of her actions, I took what was left of him as my very own little plaything. He’d be about the same size as you are now,” she extrapolated.

Oliver wanted to yell at her, scream at her but he could not find his voice in the chaos inside his head.

Looking to Vesper, “I don’t mind saying, I’ve had some delicious little pets throughout the ages, but your father, oh,” she purred, closing her eyes and making a little noise of pleasure.

Was it true or was she just trying to fuck with his head?

Looking back to Oliver, “You’re the reason I came down here,” she stated.

Had he really been inside his mother when they took his father? What did any of this have to do with Stan? It was all very confusing.

“I understand this can be a lot to process all at once,” Edith said, reaching a hand down to touch the side of his face.

Eyes still glued on her, he did not flinch as she caressed his cheek.

“What happens to Stan now is up to you. All I need to know is who he is and where he came from,” she said softly.

Oliver feel deflated, empty, “And you’ll let him go?”

Edith nodded slowly.

“Okay,” he replied, voice almost too low for the women to hear.

“That’s a good boy,” Edith praised.

“His last name is fuck you, and he’s from a little town called you can stick it in your ass,” Oliver responded, a wry grin on his face.

Leaning back, Edith roared with laughter, “Oh my god I love this boy,” she blurted. “I mean we both know I could de-limb you a piece at a time, or crush you under my heel, or smother you, and I think we both know these are all viable options I could employ to encourage your disclosure, but wow, do I admire your pluck, your gumption. Truly.”

Vesper shook her head, small smile on her face.

Sersei Claims her Prize

Arriving at the Omega house to a buzz of activity, Sersei entered through the door at the rear of the house into the mudroom off the kitchen.

Spotting Sersei, Monroe skipped over to her, large breasts bouncing with the motion, “They found him,” she shared, eyes bright.

“Him? What?” Sersei inquired, frowning.

“Oliver!” exclaimed the heavier chested girl.

A huge grin split Sersei’s face. “Shut the front door!” she replied.

Bringing her hands up, “It’s true, Miss Frost and Vesper are in the first floor library with him right now,” she explained.

“Who found him?”

Pursing her lips, Monroe shook her head slightly, “Cerys,” she informed.

“You’re kidding?” challenged Sersei.

Monroe’s face grew somber, “She found Cam too.”

A puzzled look crossed Sersei’s pretty features, “Cam? I thought Brooklynn was enjoying my little brother?”

“Apparently Oliver liberated him from Brooklynn’s panties while she slept,” Monroe clarified.

“OMG that is hilarious,” chuckled Sersei.

Monroe’s glum expression deepened, “Cerys gulped Cam down,” she shared.

Sersei frowned, shaking her head, “That bitch,” she growled.

Monroe nodded, “Miss Frost stripped four days off her claim, awarding two to Brooklynn and Allie and then going to Harmony before she can have one day with him,” she explained, holding up her right index finger.

“Good,” Sersei replied, knowing of her seven days with Oliver she was going to have to give one to Brooklynn as per their arrangement.

“She should consider herself lucky she’s getting any time,” Monroe opined before launching into a description of Stan’s arrival at the house and how the event unfolded.

While interested in what the other girl was sharing, Sersei wanted Oliver. With Cerys capturing Oliver prior to the deadline imposed by Miss Frost, there was a sliver of fear that the gray haired woman might still pull rank or renege on her decree.

Politely disengaging from Monroe, Sersei went to the library, rapping lightly on the door.

Vesper opened the door, “Sersei,” she greeted, smiling.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting, I just wanted to let you know I’m back in the house,” Sersei said, returning the smile.

Without bothering to look at the blonde haired girl, “It’s okay, you can let her in,” Edith stated.

Body language still defiant, Oliver watched as Sersei entered the room and moved close to the desk.

Turning her head to look at Sersei, Edith nodded. “As much as I might like to tame some of this little one’s enthusiastic wild spirit, I am a woman of my word,” she stated.

Oliver chuckled bitterly.

Turning her gaze back to the tiny boy on the desk, “Something funny?”

“A woman of your word? Just finding your moral compass and sensibilities slightly skewed,” he replied, making a somewhat sour face.

Unsure of what to say or do, Sersei interlocked her fingers and held them in front of her.

Glancing up at Sersei, “Has anyone told you yet your brother Cameron, the kid you grew up with is slowly being digested in Cerys’ gut? Or doesn’t it matter to you?” he challenged, shrugging his shoulders.

Vesper shook her head, “These things are beyond your comprehension,” she stated.

Flicking her a mocking look, “Beyond my comprehension? Please, explain it to me. Explain what it’s like to give up your child to feed these monsters and their vain egos, explain to me what it feels like to cradle and nurture life only to watch it devoured?”

Vesper shook her head.

Moving to the edge of the desk, “Why wait, why not drag Aventus down here now and sate the ravenous hunger of your sisters, give them a little taste of veal,” he barked.

Vesper chuckled, “At this age his potency is lacking,” she countered, as if the simple statement made sense.

Oliver shook his head, dumbfounded.

Edith motioned Sersei closer, “You may take him,” she advised, looking back to him, “Remember you had an opportunity to intervene but chose otherwise,” she informed, nodding slowly.

Stepping in, Sersei curled her hand around Oliver, doing it quickly lest Edith suddenly changed her mind. Scooping him up off the desk, she brought him close to her body, cradling him.

“You are aware of the line of transfer?” Edith inquired.

“Brooklynn because of Cerys taking Cam,” Sersei answered.

Edith nodded.

“There is still the matter of casting the likeness, we never got the chance the other night,” Vesper stated.

“Do you have the mold?” Miss Frost queried.

Vesper nodded, “In my purse, I’ll get it,” she offered, ducking out of the room.

Looking at the young blonde, “I understand you went to see Eleanor, how is your grandmother?” asked Miss Frost, tone convivial.

Smiling back, “Good, good,” Sersei replied, nodding.

Edith nodded, “That’s good to hear.”

Vesper reappeared with the small case containing the wax press for making molds. Walking over to Sersei, she flipped open the little container in her right hand, extending her left to the girl, “May I?”

“Of course,” Sersei replied, placing Oliver in the offered hand.

Setting Oliver down on the mold, Vesper positioned his body, abruptly closing the case, creating an impression of him.

Pressed into the wax, suffocating, at once Oliver understood now the nature of his find from that day in the shape, all those little figurines in the box, so many of them, grim realization they were copies of the sons taken by the women of Omega Pi, lost boys like him. Why would they do that, keep effigies of their conquests? Trophies?

Opening the press, Vesper smiled, plucking Oliver out and depositing him back into Sersei’s hand. “I think this one is going to be very popular,” she commented, examining the impression.

Smiling at Sersei, “You may go now dear,” Edith encouraged.

Grinning, the blonde bobbed her head, hustling out of the room clutching her prize against her stomach.

Trapped inside her tight fist, there was naught Oliver could do against the unyielding power restraining him. He harbored no illusions of what was to come, he had listened to Melody sating her baser desires with Bear and had borne witness to Brooklynn’s primal lust using Cam. The thought of his friend renewed his grief. Was there really any point in trying to struggle, to fight back against such impossibly long odds? His mind circled back around to Stan. Why did Edith want to know?

Racing up the stairs to her room, Sersei closed the door before crossing the room to set Oliver down atop her bed.

Was there a point? Looking at the immense blonde haired girl grinning down on him, he nodded slowly as a grin appeared on his face. Survive, that was the point. There was no way he could out power her, but damned if he could not outthink her. They were creatures of vanity. Arching an eyebrow, “God you’re gorgeous,” he praised.

Sersei grinned at the compliment.

Protect and Serve

Pulling the van over to the side of the road, Stan opened the driver’s door and vomited again, though only a thin slimy drool of saliva came out of him. Wiping his mouth, he sat up and closed the door. “What the hell did that broad do to me?” he asked aloud. Despite just upchucking, his queasiness was beginning to abate and his equilibrium returning.

Putting the van back into gear, he pulled away from the curb. There was definitely some shady shit going on at the house and there was no doubt in his mind Oliver was in it up to his ball bag. No way on Earth was anyone, hot chicks or not, no way he was going to remain idle.

A police car drove past him, wheeling around abruptly, red and blue lights coming on.

“What the fuck? School zone or something?” he muttered, pulling the van over to the side of the road, setting it to park before shutting off the engine and rolling the window down.

The patrol car pulled in behind him.

Looking in the side view mirror, he watched the police officer get out of the car. Tall and filling out the uniform superbly, she put her hat on, pulling her long sandy brown ponytail through the strap at the back before approaching the driver’s side of the van, right hand curled around the handle of her pistol.

Placing his hands at ten and two on the steering wheel, he waited for her.

Peering in through the glass to ensure there was only one occupant, the female officer, stood next to the driver’s door, “Driver’s license and registration,” she requested, voice authoritative, but in a sultry way.

Turning his head to look at her, “Um yeah, sure,” he replied, glancing at the name on the cloth tag Velcroed to the body armor over her uniform, “Officer Chappell. I’ll have to reach into my back pocket for my wallet and the registration is in the glove box,” he said, moving his right hand slowly back to his right rear pocket. “What is this about?” he inquired, looking up at a very pretty face partially concealed by mirrored sunglasses.

“Your license and documentation please sir,” she repeated with a measure of annoyance in her strict tone.

“Sure, sure,” he replied, shifting on the seat to retrieve his wallet before fishing out his license and handing it to her. His stomach churned and he felt he might heave again but he concealed it behind a friendly smile.

Taking his license with her left hand, right hand still on her gun, “Have you had anything to drink today Mr. Taylor?” she inquired.

Bending forward, he reached over and popped open the glove box, taking out the vehicle’s registration, “Just coffee,” he answered with a chuckle, holding out the paperwork in the plastic holder.

Nodding, she collected the registration also with her left hand. “This will take a few minutes,” she informed before retreating to her cruiser.

Glancing up in the rearview mirror, Stan muttered to himself, his head growing clearer, an unsettling feeling took up root in the pit of his stomach as he strummed his fingers over the top of the steering wheel. He still did not know why she had pulled him over. Was he all over the road? Dammit, why was this taking so long?

After what seemed an inordinate amount of time, he saw her get back out of the car. Walking back up to his window, her body language much more relaxed as she presented him with both his license and registration.

“Thanks,” he replied, taking the documents.

“Is that your current address?” she inquired.

“Yes,” he answered, sliding his license back into his wallet and tucking it into his back pocket.

“Just passing through?” she queried, leaning an arm against the van.

“More or less,” he answered, dropping the plastic envelope with the vehicle’s registration papers on the passenger seat.

“Which is it? More, or less?” she asked.

“Sorry?” he responded, uncertain of what it is was she was trying to get at.

“Are you staying somewhere local, a hotel perhaps?” she questioned.

Smiling, “Haven’t really sorted that out yet,” he replied.

“I see,” she commented, nodding slowly and removing her reflective sunglasses offering him a generous smile.

She certainly was a stunning woman, exceedingly attractive and easily on par with the psychobabes at the sorority house… Holy shit! She was one of them, or at the very least in league with them. “Yeah, not sure I’m going to stick around though,” he babbled, shaking his head.

“Too bad,” she purred, giving him a half smile.

Why did he feel like a fly in a web? Should he? Damned straight. “You never mentioned why you pulled me over in the first place?”

“Oh,” she resumed her full smile, “a vehicle fitting this description was reported stolen earlier today,” she answered smoothly.

Bullshit! Those bitches were checking up on him. He gave her a broad grin, “Wow, well I appreciate you doing your job,” he praised.

“My pleasure,” she replied, pulling a business card out of pocket on her vest and presenting it to him.

Taking the card, “What’s this?” he asked.

Arching an eyebrow, “My information, in case you decide you want to stick around,” she explained.

Grinning back, “Thanks,” he answered, reading the card, “Jill.”

Leaning back, she nodded.

“Guess I should be on my way then,” he stated, turning on the van.

Pulling out, he caught sight of her in the rearview mirror; her arms folded across her chest, she watched him depart. His heart was beating like crazy.

Deliberately taking a circuitous route toward the freshman dorms where Deacon shared the room with Oliver, he parked a ways away, walking back on foot. There was definitely some shit afoot and he felt like he had stepped squarely in it. Stopping at the door, he pulled out his cell phone and called up Samantha’s contact, hitting the call button. Fuck international charges. The call went to voice mail. “Sam, call me the moment you get this,” he said, ending the call and entering the dorm. Whatever it was the gray haired broad had done, his head felt clear now tough definitely paranoid.

Stopping outside Oliver and Deacon’s door, he knocked twice and entered without waiting for a reply. Seeing a pretty little girl he did not know seated on the edge of Oliver’s bed, Stan pulled up short, eyes darting to Deacon seated on the other bed.

“Stan, this Cady,” Deacon introduced.

Nice to make your acquaintance,” she offered, rising to her feet and extending a hand.

That knot in Stan’s gut tightened, accepting the girl’s hand and giving it a shake. Was she one of them?

Another Gut Wrenching Revelation

“Where to begin?” Sersei asked in mock thoughtfulness, tapping a finger against her chin. 

Knowing beyond a shadow of certainty she had already choreographed this first encounter a dozen times in her own head, he had no clue how he was supposed to react to the situation. Was he supposed to be afraid and run, let her express dominance over him once she caught him? What he really wanted to do was through her dead brother in her face and put Cam’s death on her shoulders. Did she care?

“I remember the first time I saw you standing in your room, looking all cute and shy,” she purred, slowly peeling the snug t-shirt off over her head, that little ghost smile playing on her crimson plump lips.

Your brother was telling me you were a monster and I should be wary of you. He wanted to say it, instead, he spread his hands and gave her a weak smile, “I remember you too, asking your brother who I was and I was like, wow,” he stated, shaking his head, she had been breathtaking.

“And here you are in my boudoir,” she chuckled, tossing her shirt off to the side before cupping her still corralled breasts in her hands and letting them fall, gravity making them bounce nicely.

Seeing her thus, she as just as gorgeous, though the sheer magnitude of size difference between them and knowing how this was going to play out filled him with dread.

Unfastening the button on her faded denim skinny jeans, she tucked her thumbs through the belt loops, bending at the waist as she wiggled them down over her shapely hips before stepping out of them.

Watching her straighten back up, his eyes found her white cotton panties with the image of a mousetrap printed on the front, the fabric snug around her pudenda.

Seeing where his gaze was, she traced her right index finger over the top of the panties and down the crease of her sex. “I knew I wanted you that first day,” she cooed.

An image of Cam at Brooklynn’s mercy filled his mind, the reckless abandon of her efforts as she chased release.

Reaching behind her back, she unhooked her bra and sprang her large voluminous breasts free. Tossing the brassiere to the floor, she removed her panties and moved to the bed, pressing her legs against the side of the blanket looming over him.

Given her proximity to where he was standing, he had to crane his neck to look up the length of her svelte body. As Sara was the only girl he had ever slept with, his understanding of female genitalia was limited. Funny how such a, innocuous little thing could make men lose the minds, well in this case, not so little.  

Almost as if reading his mind, “Now I’m not sure how much Sara actually taught you about giving a woman pleasure given you impregnated her your first or second go,” Sersei said.

Oliver frowned, “What?”

“What?” she asked.

“Impregnated Sara?” he asked, shaking his head in confusion.

Rolling her eyes, “Oh little Oliver,” she chuckled.

Raising his hands, “Now wait, what do you mean, I impregnated Sara?” he demanded.

Placing hands on naked hips, “Your bloodline was to continue so Sara was chosen to, how to say this delicately, collect your genetic sample,” she explained.

Oliver shook his head. It could not be, could it? All the bits and pieces of his relationship with Sara seemed to fall into place. After the second time they did it, she grew distant. Was it because she was pregnant? Was he a father-to-be?

Pushing back from the bed, Sersei crouched down, resting her arms on the bed in front of Oliver, “I wasn’t trying to hurt you by sharing this you,” she commented, making a frowny face.

Malicious intent or not, Oliver turned away so she could not see the anguish he felt in his heart. Was his whole life nothing but a twisted lie? He tried mentally calculating the how far along Sara might be given the two times they had sex. She would be somewhere between five and seven months pregnant. Was it a boy perhaps destined to follow in his footsteps? What if the baby was a girl, raised to be a predator like the rest of the Omega Pi girls? Felt like darkness closing in around him and swallowing him up. Ho, he would not let them beat him like this, no. Nodding slowly, a wry smile crossed his face, he would survive, by whatever means necessary, he would survive. There would be plenty of time to press her for answers after, for now he needed to get back into his strategy.

Pushing herself back to standing, Sersei reached down and picked Oliver up off the bed, holding him between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand. Bringing him in front of her face, she fixed him with her big blue eyes, “You okay?” she asked, smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

Looking at her, he nodded again, “I don’t really think it’s fair to compare you to Sara. She was kind of, I don’t know, not too keen on the whole thing, but you,” he paused, letting her see his eyes roam down her body, “like comparing a kitten to a lioness.”

Her smile spread, “I liked you the moment we met,” she purred, climbing onto the bed, lying back on her pillows.

Oliver chuckled, “The first time I saw you I was blown away, I wanted you so bad,” he replied as she set him in the space between her breasts. It was not a lie, the attraction was real, and thinking about that specific moment reminded him some small part of him still felt that same way.

Walking over her stomach, he paused at the swell of her shorn pubic mound, her scent filling his nostrils as he turned his head to look back over his shoulder at her face, “Why don’t you show me what you would like for me to do down here?” he asked.

Moving her hands down to her sex, Sersei placed her index fingers to either side of her outer lips, pulling open the petals to reveal the succulent pinkness within, “Why don’t you slip into something a little more comfortable,” she encouraged.

Into the Storm

Standing over Sersei’s splayed open sex, vibrant pink flesh glistening with dew, Oliver could feel waves of warmth emanating from it, the smell of her lust titillating something primitive in his mind. Despite his body’s biological reaction and his resolve to endure, to survive, the sight of the pried open trench before him filled him with a measure of fear.

Getting down onto his knees, he reached forward, tracing his fingers over the heated and textured skin bordering the swollen nub of her clitoris.

“Ooooo,” she sighed, tilting her pelvis slightly to improve his access.

Bracing against the movement of the gigantic woman under him, Oliver waited a moment before caressing the prominence peeking under front under the clitoral hood, kneading the dense but spongy tissue with his fingers.

Sersei chuckled appreciatively, the motion once more causing the muscles of her lean tummy to quiver. His efforts were making her wet. Moving her right hand, she slipped the middle finger deep into the opening of her pussy before dragging it back out, tracing the length of her privates, leaving a tacky trail of moisture in its path.

Reaching down with his right hand, Oliver ran it over her lubricated clit before bringing it back up in front of his face, spreading sticky fingers, clear viscous fluid making the digits appear webbed. Bringing it closer, he sniffed at it, touched the translucent mess with his tongue. There was not much taste, the texture slippery in his mouth. It was so weird, so odd. He knew what kind of monster she was but he could not help himself, he wanted more. With all of the turmoil and bullshit, why was he so hard?

“Don’t stop now precious,” Sersei urged, a bit of a growl in her voice.

Grasping her slippery clit between his hands, he rolled it back and forth, tugging at it slightly, marveling at how her body seemed to be responding physiologically. Cam was dead and she contributed in no small way. So alluring, hypnotic as Cam drifted from his mind.

“Good boy,” she praised, cooing, her level of excitement growing rapidly.

Leaning back, Oliver shook his head, “No,” he murmured, closing his eyes.

The sensation of him playing with her pleasure nexus ceased, “You can’t stop now,” she purred.

He knew he needed to go on, but it felt like such a betrayal to his principles, to Cam.

Shifting her right hand, she nudged him in the back, knocking over onto the upper part of her pussy.

Twisting to his left, Oliver landed on his side in the moisture slick crease of her sex over her urethral opening and near the opening of her hungry pussy. Suddenly there was pressure at his back as she put the tip of her right index finger between his shoulder blades, driving him down and through the puffy flesh of her cunt.

Arms flailing uselessly, “I can’t,” he stammered, mashed against the hot flesh.

Arching her hips, Sersei swirled Oliver around her pussy, strumming his tiny head against the most sensitive delicate parts of herself. Parting her legs wider, she guided her tiny captive down to the opening of her lust, grunting as she forcefully pushed his upper body into her swollen depths headfirst.

There was no way to fight her, stop her. She was far too powerful and in the throes of want. The dense tight blood engorged tissue protested his intrusion, but she was unrelenting, the rippled flesh parting as it swallowed him. Trying to twist, he felt her fingers on his feet, driving him deeper inside the narrow channel. Compressed in amongst the folds of her vagina, he could not tell up from down, the churning flesh rolling over him, sucking him deeper into the abyss of Sersei.

Tilting her head back, she let out a cry of sheer delight, the sensation of the tiny boy engulfed by her pussy sending tendrils of electricity up her spine. Manipulating herself with her right hand, she kneaded her rounded left breast with her other hand, teasing the nipple. She knew the first come would be quick, just a release of pent up hunger for her plaything. Fingers dancing skillfully around her hardened clit, she could feel the orgasm approaching, a storm surge waiting to make landfall. God it felt so good.

The greasy feeling flesh surrounding him on all sides contracted suddenly, crushing the air out of his lungs, spots of flashing light dancing in his eyes. Unable to move, he opened and closed his mouth gasping for air, all he got was her, her essence, her climax filling his mouth. Then the pressure was gone, the flesh becoming soft and pliant again. Twisting slightly, her pussy clamped down on him again, smothering him.

Lying on her side, panting, beautiful body glistening, hands between her legs, Sersei tucked her knees up. Wave after wave of rapturous bliss crashed through her body like waves pounding upon a beach, one after another, any thought for the tiny boy trapped inside her pleasure center lost in the storm of ecstasy. Eventually the contraction slowed, the stopped, residual tremors from her climax still teasing her senses, she chuckled throatily. She could not recall the last time she had come so hard. A little flutter of movement deep inside her sodden pussy reminded her of the instrument of her delicious release. “Oliver, Oliver, Oliver,” she sighed, rolling over to her back, legs parting.

Slipping the index finger of her right hand into the slippery folds of her sex, she tried to locate Oliver. Stopping when she felt little hands clutching the end of her finger near the nail, she slowly withdrew it, drawing him out halfway before adjusting her grip and pulling him completely free with a little squeling noise as come dribbled out after him. Setting his tiny pruned body down on her stomach near the navel, she put her fingers to her mouth to suck the juice off.

Getting onto his hands and knees, Oliver coughed, body heaving as he tried to expel her pleasure secretions from his lungs.

Eyes on Oliver, Sersei curled her long tongue around her finger as she removed it from her mouth, “Mmm, now that was nice,” she noised,

Wiping at his eyes, he tried to clear his vision, body wracked by another fit of coughing.

“Here, let me help you,” she said, reaching down and taking him by the waist, a thumb and forefinger to wither side as she lifted him up to her mouth, broad tongue slathering his face and upper body.

Thrashing against her muscular tongue, Oliver turned his head to the side as the pebbled surface passed over the side of his face, the smell of her breath clinging to the slobber deposit left behind.

Moving him back from her face, Sersei chuckled, his saliva slick hair matted upward in the direction of her lick, “You are too cute right now,” she said with a grin.

Mopping the spit from his face, he gave her a manufactured weak smile but said nothing.

Sparkling blue eyes filled with mischief, she opened her mouth wide, tongue retracted and shoved him inside, lips sealing behind him.

Her porcelain white teeth were massive. Oliver curled into a fetal ball as best he could to avoid losing a hand or a foot while she moved him around the inside of her mouth.

Drooling him out into the palm of her hand, Sersei grinned down at the little thing, “Now that we’ve gotten that one out of the way…,” she said, leaving the rest unsaid.

Turning his head to look up at her, Oliver nodded slowly. They were only getting started scratching the surface of the depth of her pent up lust and wanton hunger.

Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children…

Sitting at the edge of the king-sized bedroom in her hotel room, trembling hands on her lap, Samantha Haynes closed her eyes fighting to control the effects of the swoon on her flesh. The sensation was electric, orgasmic. While beyond pleasurable, she knew too well the cost of the source of that pleasure. She tried to envision Charley, the years distorting his youthful face and making him seem almost a stranger to her now. Thoughts of him were bittersweet, a mixture of elation and sorrow. She had given up her maiden name Frost and taken his last name, something she could pass on to their son. Oliver popped into her mind, his image crisp and clear, fresh, making her want to cry. The only word she had received so far was from Vesper, telling her that the reaping had gone awry and Oliver was missing. Nothing was going as planned

A soft tapping at the hotel door broke the silence. Getting up from the bed, she crossed the utilitarian carpet toward the door. Catching her reflection in the wall-mounted mirror, she paused, startled by the youthful looking girl staring back at her. Gone were the crow’s feet from around her eyes, the pudgy little belly she had developed since the last reaping she had attended, no one would have ever guessed her to be nearly forty years old.

The knock repeated, more insistent this time.

“Coming,” Sam replied, turning away from her younger self and hurrying to the door.

Opening the portal, Sam found Thomasin Hart standing in the hallway. The tall leggy brunette dressed in skirt and blouse wore a vexed expression on her exceedingly attractive face.

“Is everything alright?” Thomasin inquired, brow furling.

Sam nodded quickly, stepping aside, giving the other woman enough space to enter the room.

Without bothering to look back, “Good,” Thomasin replied, walking over to the long desk against the wall. Setting her oversized purse on the desktop, she pulled out the chair and sat down. “Any word on Oliver?”

Sam shook her head, dirty blonde haired swishing across her shoulders.

Leaning forward in the chair, “You still caught in the throes of the swoon?” Thomasin asked, sly smile curling up the corners of her mouth.

Cheeks slightly flushed, Sam nodded again, “I’m not thinking clearly, but it should pass soon enough,” she stated.

Shifting in her seat, Thomasin retrieved her purse, fishing around inside and pulling out a fist sized object wrapped entirely in cloth. Holding the thing in her left hand, she began peeling the linen off it, exposing a faceted teardrop shaped translucent greenish blue gemstone the size of a baseball.

Sliding hands between her thighs, Sam shuddered.

Perfect left eyebrow arching, “You sure you’re in a condition to do this?” Thomasin asked.

Sam nodded, “I can feel my body absorbing the boy’s energy and if I don’t transfer it soon, there won’t be much left, so yes, I’m ready,” she stated, extending her right hand toward the other woman.

Getting to her feet, Thomasin carried the stone over and set it in Sam’s hand.

Cupping the stone, Sam closed her eyes, willing the swirling energy filling her body to flow down her arms, out of her and into the stone. It was an odd sensation, making her fingertips tingle then ache as the stone began to glow. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, breath coming in shallow gasp as her vision closed in. There was a vague impression of Thomasin taking hold of her shoulders moments before consciousness fled.

Samantha awoke to an empty room. She felt weak, tired, her mouth dry. The rapturous feeling in her body before the transfer was gone, replaced by nausea and a need to urinate. As per the arrangement, Thomasin collected the energy and left. Twisting to the side, she forced her legs over the edge of the bed, the effort herculean in her weakened state. Pushing herself into a seat position, her head swam and her stomach threatened to empty. No matter how many times she had done this she was never prepared for the after effects. Taking a couple of measured breaths, she used bed to help get herself up into a standing position. Dragging leaden feet across the carpet, she leaned against the wall to collect herself. There was the mirror again. This time the image looking back from the glass was no nubile nymph, in the weak light she looked closer to thirty. She frowned. Pushing off the wall, she made her way to the bathroom and peed before washing her hands and splashing cold water on her face.

Returning to the main room, she gave the bed a longing look, catching flashing of blue coming from her phone out of the corner of her eye. Shambling to the table in the corner where her phone was plugged into the wall, she picked it up and brought the screen to life. A missed call and voicemail from Stan. Staring at the phone a moment, she activated the voicemail and listened to the message. Why was he calling her? He should be at home tinkering away at his car.

Shuffling to the unkempt bed, she plunked down on the edge, cell phone in hand. Should she call him? What time was it? She glanced at the digital clock on the table beside the bed, not quite ten o’clock. Am or pm? Letting out a big sigh, she touched the little green phone on the missed call notification and put the device to her ear.

“Sam!” exclaimed Stan’s voice through the voice, loud enough she moved it away from her head.

“Hi babe, what’s up?” she asked, trying to inject a measure of normalcy in her voice.

“What’s up? Listen, there is something strange going on here and I got a gut feeling Oliver is in a peck of trouble,” he declared.

Sam paused a moment, “Where are you?” she inquired.

“There was, wait, so I got a message from Oliver’s roommate saying some things didn’t add up, so I texted Oliver and, there’s something wrong, you know, like, whoever was responding was Oliver so I came down here,” Stan started, trying to explain.

“Wait, you went down there to check on him?” Sam asked, eyes widening.

“I did and I went to a sorority house and, I know this is going to sound kooky, but I think they got him in their house or something,” he said.

“Stan listen to me please, you need to get away from there honey, like right now,” she stated with some degree of urgency.

“What?” he challenged.

“There are forces at play here you don’t understand and I promise I’ll tell you, but I need you to get as far away from that place as you can right now. Don’t go home, just find an out of the way motel or something, oh babe, please,” she replied.

“What the hell is going on here Sam? I mean Jesus Christ this is Oliver,” he countered.

“I know, he’s our boy and I’m doing what I can to help him from here, but Stan you can’t be there, if they find out who you are,” she said, voice breaking.

“Find out who I am? What does that mean? Are you crying?”

Trying to compose herself somewhat, “Stan please, I know you love Oliver and think he is in trouble, but right now you are in more danger than him, please, you need to get out of there,” she repeated. If Edith learned Stan’s identity, she knew the woman would not hesitate to claim him. She also knew Stan was as stubborn as an ornery mule. It was a recipe for disaster.

Stan chuckled, “I can take care of myself,” he assured.

Sighing, Sam laughed softly, “I know, you’re a big strong man,” she grunted. “Please, humor me, I’ll see to our son,” she added.

“That gray haired broad did something to me babe, like I mean fucked my shit up for a bit, seriously,” Stan shared.

“That’s why I need you to stay away from there,” she replied.

“Go over there with a hickory axe handle and settle some things out,” he threatened, though by his tone, she could feel she might be getting through to him. .

“We both know you’re the kind of man who doesn’t hit a lady,” she chastised.

He made a grumbling noise, “I still want to hear from Oliver

“I’ll be coming back soon and I promise you we will talk then about all of this,” she offered. While she knew he would agree to keep away, she knew him well enough to know he would do everything in his power to work around that promise. He loved Oliver as if the boy was his own.

Stan let out a long breath.

“Please?” she requested.

“Fine,” he conceded.

“I love you,” she pledged.

“Yeah, I know,” he answered back.

Disconnecting the call, Sam frowned. Edith and Stan had crossed paths. Nothing could be down about that. The million-dollar question, Stan’s very existence depended on it, was whether the old witch was clever enough to figure out who he really was? That was the question.

Idle Hands

Sitting on Oliver’s bed, Stan put the phone down, giving it a good long glower. He and Sam had been together for over ten years and he could tell there was definitely something wrong, something very wrong. What? Obviously, it had something huge to do with Oliver but why would Sam say he was in more danger than their son was? It did not add up.

“Everything okay?” asked Deacon, voice tentative.

Stan slowly shook his head, “I don’t know,” he replied. He trusted Sam implicitly. Something about Oliver coming to the school seemed to have pushed her over the edge resulting in that completely out of character emotional meltdown about losing her son. He wondered if it had something to do with her own family, the one she rarely ever spoke about other than to say it was complicated and fucked up. She let him know she was essentially estranged from her mother and a handful of older sisters. There was never ever any mention of her father and Stan wondered if there was something ugly there, something so traumatizing or shameful and dark she did not want to revisit. Respecting her, he did not push. How did that play into what was happening now? What did she know she was not sharing and why? Why keep him out of the loop? Thinking more about it, why would she tell him to go get a motel somewhere and not go home? She seemed nonplussed not only by the notion the gray haired woman did something mystical like to him, but also by the fact she could. Odd.

Too many weird things were going on and he really did not like being in the dark. Curse Sam for being right though. What could he do? Go over there and start punching out sorority girls? Brought up in foster care, he learned never to raise a hand to a woman. Not his style. He could he just sneak over there and sniff around, see what might turn up? That would make him a lurker or a stalker or something equally as creepy. He already got the third degree vibe from the cop. Wait. The cop. Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulled out the police officer’s card and re-read it. She seemed to be pretty into him. Could he maybe play her somehow, get her to divulge some of what was going on?

Breaking the mounting silence, “Are you formulating a plan?” Cady asked.

Stan looked at her, eyes narrowing. Who was she again? “You and Deke here boyfriend girlfriend kind of thing?” he asked, slipping the cop’s card back into his pocket. Color touched both Cady and Deacon’s cheeks.

Eyes drifting down to his hands, “Friends,” Deacon replied, bashful.

A touch of color in her cheeks, Cady nodded but said nothing.

Eyes on the girl, “Tell me about that sorority, who are they?” Stan invited.

Cady shrugged her shoulders, “I really don’t know,” she started, glancing sideways at Deacon. “Like I told him, they come in to the shop where I work sometimes, which isn’t really too strange because I think the owner Carol used to belong to that house back in the day, but mostly it’s their attitude, they just come across as, I don’t know, bitches?” she finished.

Nodding his head, “Entitled,” added Deacon.

A wolfish grinned appeared on Stan’s face, “This Carol used to be one of them hey? Where do you work?” he asked. Could he maybe somehow squeeze some information out of her? Might be easier than trying to get the chick cop to up with the skinny. Besides, coffee shop chick was not packing heat, or more cops. Interesting. While he would not hit a woman, Carol would not know what he may or may not do.

Cady wobbled her head back and forth in a noncommittal fashion, “Across the concourse over at Cup of Joe’s. As for Carol, I think so but I’m not really a hundred percent,” she answered.

“Uh huh,” Stan replied absently. The broads at the sorority house did not seem to bat an eye at him, meaning they were not worried about him in the slightest. That fact did not escape his notice. Did they all have the crazy ability to make him woozy, or just the gray haired dame?

“What do we do?” Deacon asked.

Stan held up a hand, “First off, I don’t think this is a ‘we’ type deal my young friend. Don’t get me wrong, I totally appreciate everything you’ve done, but right now I think you need to keep back a bit, you know, be my ace in the hole if this thing spins out of control,” he said. He still had no clue how those women were able to affect him the way they did and the last thing he wanted was to be worrying about this stand up kid.

Deacon looked a little crestfallen.

Stan grinned at the boy. “Right now, we need to take it slow and easy, you know, there is something odd going on over at that chicken ranch and someway Oliver is balls deep in it. I think your initial assessment was bang on, he needs our help, the problem is we don’t know what the shit is going on and the last thing we want to do is run over there with our dicks in our hands,” he started, pausing to raise his hands and smile at Cady, “figuratively speaking of course.”

Cady gave him a half smile, “Thank goodness,” she replied.

Feeling more and more himself, Stan pushed himself up off the bed, nodding at the two younger people, “I’m just going to go and get a little intel, see if I can’t get some of these pieces to match up,” he advised. Glancing at Cady then back to Deacon, “You remember what we talked about concerning the phone, that thing only me and you know?” he asked, inclining his head and raising an eyebrow.

Deacon frowned a moment before catching onto what Stan was talking about. “I got it,” he assured.

Cady glanced from boy to man and back, “I presume this is like some secret handshake stuff between you two,” she stated.

“Just a precaution,” Stan said with a friendly grin. Honestly he did not care if she felt a little put off by the code, he still was not convinced she was uninvolved.

Cady smiled back and chuckled, “Sure,” she replied.

“So what am I supposed to do?” Deacon asked.

Spreading his hands, “Just act natural, be yourself, maybe take this lovely young lady out for lunch or something,” Stan suggested.

Deacon nodded and glanced at Cady.

“I’d love to,” she said without being formally asked.

“That’s settled, I’m off,” Stan stated, before bidding the pair goodbye and setting off to find the café.

Behold the Goddess

Still in the palm of Sersei’s hand, body tacky and sticky from the adventure inside her mouth, Oliver managed to give her a half smile as he concealed his own arousal, “Give a fellow a chance to catch his breath before jumping right back into action,” he said with chuckle. He needed time to put aside his turbulent and polarized opposite feelings to focus on devising a strategy to survive this ordeal. He seriously doubted any appeal to her sense of humanity would work, especially after how easily she led Cam to his ignominious end. No, not decency and fair play, at once, he knew their weakness. Vanity. These girls thrived on adoration, the perception of being objects of worship. What else did he have? Aside from the betrayal of his own flesh.

Exaggerated pout appearing on her gorgeous face, “Do you need a break?” she asked, eyes dancing as she looked at his semi-concealed excitement.

Raising a hand in mock defense, he chuckled, “This is where I’m supposed to say I want to get inside and know the real you, but, well,” he trailed off.

Tucking her tongue into the corner of her mouth, she grinned.

“It’s funny, in more of a weird kind of ironic way rather than a haha way, but what was I running from? The first time I saw you in the dorm room you took my breath away, though more literally than you did there a moment ago,” he declared.

“Aww,” she cooed.

“My experience with ladies has been, well you know, pretty much only Sara, so sheltered, but I’ve never, I would never have thought I would get a chance to be with someone like you, just a goddess,” he acknowledged. There was a ring of truth in his words. She was beautiful, immaculate body naked, hair slightly disheveled. He did not bother to add in sociopathic monster, feeling it might detract from his goal of appealing to her narcissism.

“If it is any consolation, I wasn’t lying when I said I thought I found you attractive that day I first saw you,” she confessed, her smile broadening.

Bit of a smile on his face, “Did you know then?” he inquired.

Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, she nodded her head slowly.

Oliver laughed, using it to mask the seething notion she played him right from the get go. “Did not see it coming,” he conceded. “Your brother warned me, he did.” Did she mourn Cam at all?

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head, “Forget about him, think about all of the fun things we are going to do,” she purred, settling back against the pillows on her bed and draping him over the erect nipple of her right breast.

Getting to his feet atop the buxom flesh, he grinned at her, the warmth of her flesh permeating the soles of his feet. Why was he still hard? “I have a favor to ask,” he requested. Talking about Cam or trying to engage her that way was a dead end and there was zero point antagonizing her. She held all the cards and it was her game, but if only he could somehow get her to see him as a person, it might open a window of opportunity.

“Oh?”

“I already said how limited my experience was, so I was wondering, hoping, maybe you might let me explore your body?” he queried. Win her.

Teeth flashing through a big smile, “Well now, this is quite a nice little shift from the squirmy worm you were earlier,” she commented.

Oliver spread his hands. “I don’t know if this is something that can be undone or not, but what I do know is that right here right now, looking down on the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, I want to,” he paused, eyes down. He hoped his country boy ‘aw shucks’ seemed genuine.

“You want to worship me, as you said earlier, as a goddess?” she cooed, pink tongue snaking out of her mouth to lick her lips.

Nodding slowly, he waited for her assent before sitting down near the turgid flesh of her nipple, delicately tracing his fingers around it.

She giggled, forcing him to hang on. “It tickles,” she chirped.

Applying firmer force, he began to knead the swollen prominence, rolling it between his hands.

“I like that,” she breathed appreciatively.

At his diminished size, Oliver marveled at the texture hardening further under his hands. Getting up, he moved down the slightly dampened skin toward her navel, crossing over her lean stomach to stand atop the rise of her mound of Venus.

The petals to either side of her split retained a slightly engorged quality, the rosy flesh slick with glistening residue from her previous orgasm. With only novice fumbling in the dark with Sara, the intricacies of Sersei bloomed vagina fascinated him in the full light. The slightly pungent scent coming off her was alluring, his raging erection stood in rigid testament to that. He wondered if because he was small, his olfactory senses might be more susceptible to her sexual pheromones, whatever the reason, looking at her filled him with desire.

He presumed the softball sized nubbin peeking out from beneath a shroud of skin to be her clitoris. Sitting beside it, he licked the tips of the fingers of his right hand before stroking the surprisingly warm and supple skin of her pleasure nexus. Through the contact of their skin, he instantly felt her respond, her body convulsing slightly though enough he needed to brace himself from falling.

“Still a little sensitive,” she chuckled throatily.

This time, he apply less force, massaging her gently, his tiny fingers delicately exploring her.

“Ooh,” she groaned, hips arching up to his touch while her lower body twisted in response to his efforts.

Caressing her, he felt the temperature in the flesh under him rising.

“Harder,” she invited.

Grinning, he repositioned himself onto all fours over her clit, facing her. Leaning down he made an exaggerated show of swirling his tongue over the surface. Not exactly how he envisioned his first time eating pussy.  

“You little tease,” accused Sersei with a playful smile.

It had not been his original intent to tease her, now he gave her a sly look and deliberately made a show of giving her a long protracted lick across her sensitive button.

Raising her eyebrows, “Cheeky,” she said, raising her hips slightly up off the bed and sliding her right hand palm up under her ass, fingers caressing the soft folds of her labia before slipping her index finger inside the molten confines of her sex.

There was no disputing the rift between what he was thinking and what his body was feeling, biological imperative was compelling him, clouding his reason, his only lament he was so tiny. A glimmer in the back of his brain ponder whether this was due in fact to the connection they shared through the stone.

Moving over her clit, he rolled over the edge of her mound between her lips and into the crease of her sex, sliding down and bracing his feet off the embedded finger and grinding his pelvis against the unbelievably soft groove in her womanhood.

“Mmm,” she moaned softly, caressing her breast and nipple with her free hand.

Sersei’s pussy lips seemed to fold around him, pushing Oliver to the verge of eruption. He wanted to hate her, curse her, revile her, and then he came, ejaculating harder than ever before. He could not tell if she sensed it, but she arched her hips and slid her finger back, before pushing his lower body inside her. He did not struggle, gliding through the heated folds all the up to his chest, her slippery fluids heavy with the taste of her renewed excitement.  The walls around him trembled and then she came, the sudden contraction sucking him deeper into her holiest of holies.

Venus flytrap

Stan hit the open air of the concourse, flinging his jacket across his shoulders and slipping it on. How to get this Carol to open up? He had not taken more than a dozen steps, when he heard a voice call him.

“Hey wait!” It was Deacon, standing in the open door.

Stan chuckled, “Miss me already? What’s the deal freaky Deke?”

“I don’t know, just may or may not be something, but I just remembered Oliver telling me he was involved in some kind of game with the girls over at Omega Pi. They’ve got these wristbands-,”

“Yeah, yeah, I think I saw one of those breast cancer bands when I was over there,” he interrupted before shrugging his shoulders.

“No, not breast cancer. These ones were like favors, or tokens from the girls, symbols of affection he called them,” Deacon explained, suddenly feeling somewhat foolish for bringing them up.

Stan nodded slowly, “Good to know,” he said, clapping the boy on the shoulder.

“Three of them, that’s what Oliver had said to me, it took three of them to get a date with the girl of your dreams,” he explained.

Leaving Deacon, Stan mulled over the information. Was it something? What did it mean? The fact Deacon and Oliver set up an ‘ask and answer’ code meant the pair were at intuitively onto a sense of wrongness.

What if he could get himself some of those bands or at least something that resembled them? He could use them to attract this Carol’s attention. He was not entirely sure where to go after that, but he was a hell of an improviser on the fly.

Ducking into a trendy looking little shop, he found exactly what he was looking for, three pink bands of similar vibrancy as he recalled seeing on the girl’s wrist. Each of the bands had the same I heart symbol boobies message.

Taking the bands over to the register, he set them on the counter and gave the young woman behind the till a smile.

Looking at the bands then at Stan, she arched an eyebrow.

Grin turning mischievous, “I am all about the fight,” he replied, flashing her a friendly wink.

The girl chuckled and shook her head as she rung them up. “You want a bag?”

Handing her money, “Nope, there’s no need to wrap them up sweetheart,” he advised sliding each of the bands over his right hand. “I’ll wear them to show my unwavering support,” he said, raising the banded hand and curling his fingers into a fist.

Exiting the shop, Stan pushed the bands up his arm so that the sleeve of his jacket covered them. Chuckling, he made his way to Cup of Joe’s where he grabbed himself a coffee. The place was not too busy, so he took a seat that gave him a decent view of the interior of the shop.

It was easy enough for him to pick out who Carol was, so he waited until she was in range. Taking a sip, he made a satisfied noise and held the cup out at arm’s length, “Damn, that is one fine cup of coffee,” he praised declaratively, voice loud before smacking his lips.

Carol turned in his direction, wide smile on her face, “That sounded like another satisfied customer,” she said.

Looking up from his coffee, Stan returned her smile, “Chalk me up, goddamn that’s good. Did you make it?”

“No, not personally, I own the place though,” she informed.

Stan wrinkled up his face, “Own the place? Joe?” he challenged, the incredulous look on his handsome face intended to be an open invitation for her to engage in conversation.

“No, not Joe, Carol,” she introduced.

“I thought you might be a student here,” Stan replied, chuckling. He guess she might be early thirties, but it was hard to be certain.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she gushed.

The door to the shop opened and two people walked, a tall kid with a gorgeous looking girl hanging off his arm. There, very clearly, three bands around his right wrist. The girl wrapped him was an absolute specimen with her blonde streaked dark brown hair pulled back. While pretty, her eyes looked like chipped glacier, cold. The Omega Pi logo over her breast removed any doubt in his mind about her affiliation.

“Excuse me a moment,” Carol said, turning from him and walking toward the newly arrived duo who took a seat near the window.

Stan picked up their names, Kent and Maeve. Taking another drink off his coffee, he strained to listen in without looking like an avid eavesdropper. A party. The bands. Tonight. Omega Pi. He smiled slyly.

Another girl arrived, stunning, hair almost white pulled back off her face.

Stan got that ‘someone walking over your grave’ shimmy up the back of his spine. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. Had to be part of the Pi cult, he just felt it. Why were they all so bloody good looking?

The new girl joined Carol and the couple, plunking down in a spare seat. He heard the name Elisha. Carol vanished back behind the counter, leaving the trio at the table.

Outwardly, it sounded and looked like the girls were vying for the kid’s attention, competing. Stan had been around the block enough times and wise enough to know better. The body language, the subtle nuances, touches, almost incidental, innocuous. It was like watching a pair of spiders cocoon an unwary fly.

Not that the kid noticed or even seemed to care, the poor sap blinded by the sheer physical of the vamps.

He serious doubted anything could chisel the grin off the kid’s face.

Carol returned to the group with coffees in hand before coming back over to Stan’s table.

“I pretty good with faces, so you must be new here,” she said, sliding easily into the seat across from him.

Giving her a cheek grin, “Let’s see what my face tells you about me?” he invited,

Leaning forward, “Let me see,” she said, glancing down and taking his big right hand in both of hers. Turning it over, she traced her fingertips over the callused palm. Grinning, she smiled coyly.

“Well?”

“Working man’s hand,” she offered. “Roguishly handsome, but you know it.”

The grin on Stan’s face widened, but it was all for show. In the back of his mind, the thought crossed his mind she might already know who he is because of the information network these broads seemed to have.

“Confidant to the point of being cocky, but it suits you,” she added, eyes sparkling.

Even knowing she was spinning a web over him, it still required serious effort on his part to resist her charm. Clearing his throat, “And?”

Turning her head slightly to the side, expression evaluative, “Mystery. The strong silent type maybe?” she posed, finger still caressing the palm of his hand.

He heard the voice of old Father McNulty clear as a bell in his head, “Wine, women, and song are the ruin of many a young man.” Visualizing the old preacher made Stan chuckle aloud. If not for the old man pushing Stan into boxing, Stan would most surely have found himself on the wrong side of the law as an angry young man.

Carol laughed, “I’m close aren’t I?” she question, still caressing his hand.

“Like a bee on pollen,” he replied, knowing this was no bee, this was a wasp.

Tapping her index finger against his palm, “The one thing I don’t know yet is your name,” she chided.

“Ford,” he replied, using the back half of his first name Stanford just in case she had some way to detect if he was lying.

“Like the car company?” she asked.

With a grin Stan nodded, catching sight of the boy Kent getting to his feet.

Carol chuckled, “What is it about you?” she asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

Keeping his eyes glue on the pretty proprietress, Stan shrugged casually as Kent shared a few parting words with the two girls before heading alone to the door.

Curling her hand around his index and middle fingers, “We close up here around six, I could give you the grand tour after that?” she offered, the suggestion of hidden promise in her voice.

After Kent had walked off a ways, “Sure, maybe, wait,” he replied, reclaiming his hand and pulling out his phone, making like it had vibrated in his pocket. Calling up the screen, “Jeez,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

Carol gave him a concerned look, “Everything okay?”

Nodding, Stan got to his feet. “I’m not sure. You have no idea how much I would love to get that tour, but, shit, pardon my French, give me your number and if I can sort this out, I’m in,” he replied, opening a new contact profile on his phone.

Carol smiled, providing him with her cell number.

Saving the information, “Sweet,” he said before giving her a wink and slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“You better not stand me up,” she warned, “otherwise I will be a little cross with you,” she added, waggling a finger.

Grinning, he nodded and exited the shop. Taking out his phone, he put it to his ear and pretended to take a call, moving in the same general direction as Kent.

Agnes

Groaning, Cam rolled onto his side. The last thing he could remember, the constricting journey down Cerys’s esophagus and into the caustic oxygen deficient confines of her stomach, sheer terror gripping him as he struggled against corrugated folds in absolute blackness, the sounds of death by digestion gurgling below.

Instead, smooth softness under his fingers and a sense of warmth. Eyes jerking open, he sat upright, startled to find himself in a bed. A real bed. Blinking against the brightness, his hands fumbled over the blanket that had been covering him no bunched up around his waist. “What the…”

Frantically, he swiveled his head back and forth trying to gain some measure of the strange place in which he found himself. Single bed, off yellow paint on the normal looking walls, soft light illuminating the entirety of the ceiling. There appeared to be a light colored carpet on the floor. Carpet? Was he whole? Himself again. He dared not hope. “Hello?” he called out.

An attractive woman attired in a simple dress appeared in the doorway. Would you call it a doorway if no door were there?

“Hello Mr. Crawford,” she greeted, pleasant smile on her attractive face.

Pulling the blanket up under his chin, Cam figured her to be about forty, slightly shorter than him, her dark hair swept back into a ponytail.

Folding her hands in front of herself, “My names is Agnes York,” she replied softly, her voice containing the hint of an English accent.

Cam nodded, “Am I…myself again?”

Agnes frowned, lines appearing on her face, “I’m afraid you are still small,” she confirmed.

Despite refraining to hope, a crestfallen expression appeared on his face.

Walking to the side of the bed, Agnes sat and put a comforting hand on his left leg still covered by the blanket.

Recoiling slightly from the touch, “Who are you? Where am I? Cerys?” he challenged.

Drawing her hand back, she nodded, “Of course. I realize given the harrowing nature of your most recent ordeals this is all very trying, confusing. I will do what I can to try and explain,” she offered.

Cam snorted and shook his head. “Where’s Oliver?” he demanded.

“Mr. Haynes is currently with your sister,” she answered directly.

Shaking his head, “No, no,” he lamented.

“We are exploring all possible avenues of liberating him, but for the present I want to help you Cameron. May I call you Cameron?” she inquired politely.

Eyes narrowing in suspicion, “Where are we?” Cam asked.

Agnes spread her hands, “This place? This is a dollhouse not overly far from the Omega chapterhouse,” she shared.

What if all this was just another trap, another way to fuck with his brain? “Cerys swallowed me,” he accused.

Nodding, “Yes, she risked her own wellbeing to save you from the, shall we call it, the passions of her sisters. Fortunately, she was able to retrieve you before the environment inside her stomach did any irreparable harm,” Agnes explained.

“Swallowed,” repeated Cam, eyes widening.

“Quite. Now, rather than focusing on your recent travails, let us take a moment to consider your current situation and the path ahead,” she suggested.

A quizzical look crossed Cam’s face, “Wait, if I’m little, that means you’re little too,” he deduced.

Turns her hand palm up, “Indeed I am,” she assured.

Confusion molded Cam’s face, “But,” he paused, shaking his head.

“Allow me to explain. My name is Agnes York and like you, I too suffer from this peculiar affliction, though, unlike you, I cannot claim to be an innocent,” she divulged.

Scowling, Cam’s eyes narrowed.

Holding up a hand, “Please, allow me to explain. To my shame, I confess I enjoyed myself at the expense of others, delighting in the prestige and privilege associated with my affiliation to Omega Pi. I-“

Eyes widening again, “So wait a minute, hold the phone, so you were one of them? One of those shrinkers who did this kind of stuff, and who, you know, did those other things?” Cam questioned.

Pursing her lips, Agnes nodded slowly, “Indeed I was Cameron, attaining a fairly exalted position within the sisterhood,” she acknowledged.

“How many? How many other guys like me did you take? Tell me,” Cam enjoined.

Looking away, she shook her head, “How many young men’s lives did I ruin? Too many,” she replied softly.

“Then you deserve this,” he asserted, a mix of anger and panic seeping into his voice. How many did she claim, use?

Turning back to him, making direct eye contact, “More than you can ever know, but before you do something rash, please allow me an opportunity to explain what is happening here.”

Curbing his tongue, he folded his arms over his chest restraining all of the pent up fury, the use and abuse at the hands and other parts of the Omega girls.

“There are sisters within Omega Pi who are trying to bring about change and overturn the archaic rituals practices by our forbearers, but that number is still very small. That is why I told you that when Cerys brought you here, she actually placed herself at considerable risk to save you, especially with Edith Frost in attendance at the house,” Agnes clarified.

Cam opened his mouth to pose a question but then frowned.

“Go on, you have a question?” urged Agnes.

“So what then, she brought me here? Why?”

Raising her hands, “There may be a chance to restore you,” she offered, angling her head slightly to one side.

Cam shook his head. Was it true? Was it possible? Alternatively, just another devious way to break him down again?

“I must clarify it is only a possibility. The sisterhood proper is very powerful and well entrenched in many different areas of society so the meager handful of us are definitely fighting against long odds. We are always trying to encourage others to join the new order but it is dangerous,” Agnes stated.

Cam could not believe his ears. There was a chance! There were those trying to undo the process. Suddenly images of the women in his own family surfaced in his mind. “Sersei, my mom, my grandmother, are they part of this new order?” he asked, wondering if maybe Sersei bitchiness might now have only been an act. Could it be? He hoped so.

Agnes shook her head slowly, “It is incredibly difficult to recruit sisters and we have to be exceeding cautious about exposing our network when we make overtures. That said, Sersei has been, let’s call it approached, in the hopes of maybe bringing her over to our perspective, but,” Agnes shrugged, eyes looking upward.

Clenching his teeth, Cam swallowed the new surge of rage, his hurt, “And?”

“I honestly do not know. On the one hand, she has not committed to our cause, but on the other, as far as we know, she has not revealed us either,” Agnes stated.

Shaking his head, “Typical Sersei, playing both sides against the middle,” he spat, mind drifting back to that last meal he shared with her at their grandmother’s house. So many questions, little offhand comments, the sting of betrayal still felt incredibly fresh. It was his ‘last supper’.

“We are still hopeful she may still be enlisted,” Agnes offered.

“Until she makes that decision, I just hope Oliver is okay,” he replied, knowing only too well the trials and tribulations awaiting his friend.

Agnes smiled and nodded.

Cam did not want  imagine what his friend might be enduring at the hands of his sister.

Recognizing Cam’s guardedness, “Yes, of course. Are you hungry?” she asked, changing the direction of the conversation.

As if on cue, Cam’s stomach made a noise. Placing a hand on his belly, he nodded.

Down for the Kent

Navigating back to the dorm, Kent was on cloud nine. He could not believe he had not one but two Omega Pi beauties fighting over him. He had never been overly successful through high school so the sudden swell of feminine attention blinded him. Not that he would necessarily have cause to think someone might be following him; he never took stock of the athletic man shadowing him.

Stan stayed far enough back the kid would not notice him, but he tracked the boy back to the residences. Once he had the floor, it was not difficult to find the room. Rapping lightly on the door, he opened it, stepping into a room much like Oliver’s situation. The room was double occupancy, Kent reclining on his bed on the right side while the space on the left stood vacant.

Stan’s sudden appearance startled the kid.

“Hey, can I help you?” Kent asked, quickly withdrawing his hands from his pants.

Stan smiled, a hawkish expression, “I‘m looking for Kent,” he stated, flashing the kid a wink.

Sitting up, “Who are you?” Kent inquired, a touch of embarrassed color dusting his face.

Holding his hands up, “Relax I’m not here to bust on you for taking matters into your own hands,” he assured.

Getting to his feet, Kent’s face darkened, “What are you doing in my room?” he demanded, moving aggressively now toward Stan.

Chuckling, “Sorry kid,” Stan said, shifting his stance slightly while curling his right hand into a fist and clipping the boy with a perfect placed uppercut.

Kent never saw it coming. As his lights went out.

After knocking the kid out, Stan was nimble enough to prevent Kent from hitting the floor by catching him and lying him down.

Kent awoke, eyes fluttering open, slightly glassy, a confused look on his face. “What happened?”

Crouched beside the lad, “I knocked you out. You ready to hear me out?” asked Stan, standing and extending a hand down to help Kent up.

Taking the hand, Kent got to his feet, right hand massaging his jaw, “Who are you?”

Stan smiled, “My name is Stan Taylor. I’m Oliver Haynes’ dad,” he replied, extending his right hand.

Kent chuckled, “Shit, you clobbered me. Now I know where Oliver got it when he popped my roommate Bear.”

Glancing over at the vacant side of the room, “Where is your roomie?”

“Oh, we were at the Omega house and dude totally frapped his knee, like bad,” Kent replied.

Stan nodded. “So Bear is gone. Oliver’s roommate Cameron is gone and now Oliver is gone. You see a pattern here?”

“Wait, what do you mean?” Kent asked, checking his teeth.

“You’re next on the list,” Stan asserted, pointing a finger at Kent’s chest.

Frowning, “I don’t understand,” replied Kent.

“That’s because you’re thinking with the little head,” Stan stated with a grin. “There is something really fishy going on over at that house and I haven’t got the god damnedest idea of what the hell it is except it has to do with those rubber bands and kids are vanishing.”

Shaking his head, Kent appeared to be processing the information.

“And you, with your head so far up those fine pussies my young friend, you don’t even see it coming,” Stan informed.

Shaking his head quasi-erratically as he tried to process the information, “No, wait, Cam had to, Bear’s knee, no,” he chuckled, “Oliver’s with Sersei,” he replied.

Pulling out his phone, “But he isn’t. Complete incommunicado. We got this thing, I say one thing, he replies with something completely off base but there is no mistaking it is him. Nope. I don’t know who is on the other end of the conversation but it sure as hell isn’t Oliver,” Stan shared.

“But the girls,” Kent countered.

Stan pointed at Kent’s crotch, “I saw the girls, the ones in the coffee shop as well as the others at their house, straight up, that’s Dick talking,”

“What do I do, I mean I really don’t understand what’s happening but now you point out some things and things aren’t adding up,” Kent replied with a shrug.

Stan tapped the side of his own head, “Now you’re thinking. I honestly don’t think you’re safe here and think you need to come with me until we can sort this shit out. First things first, I think we need to 86 those wristbands.”

Kent frowned, borderline pouted as he tried to get them off. He could not get them to stretch out far enough to fit over his hand. “They won’t come off,” he blurted, a note of panic in his voice.

Stan walked over, “They’re just rubber,” he said, trying. They would not stretch. “That’s fucked,” he said, scowling.

Kent’s effort became more frantic as he tried one then the other, “Why won’t they stretch?” he grunted.

“Hold up a second,” Stan said, trying to calm the increasingly desperate boy. It did not make sense. Why wouldn’t they stretch? Though the texture felt pliable and rubbery, they were like titanium.

“They should come off easy,” Kent stated.

Stan nodded, “Yes they should,” he agreed. It defied logical explanation like the thing the grey-haired woman did to him and made him sick.

“Why won’t it come off?” Kent pleaded, wrist pink and puffy, irritated by his efforts.

“Fucking witchcraft or some shit,” Stan said, nodding as if to convince himself of the truth of it. What else could it be? The very idea filled him with a sense of dread for Oliver.

“I want them off,” Kent babbled, spinning the bands around his wrist before again trying to force them over the prominence of his hand.

Not really paying a whole lot of attention to what the boy was doing, Stan nodded absently, “Yeah, we might need to find a way to cut them off,” he said. Could the chicks track Kent through those bands? Like the vibe he got giving Carol a variant of his real name like maybe somehow she would know if he lied. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.

Coming Clean

Sitting in the departure lounge of Vancouver international Airport, Samantha Haynes let out a long slow breath. Even though she had extracted a promise of non-interference from Stan, she knew he would find some crafty way to navigate around his pledge. A small smile touched her lips. His dogged determination and clever ingenuity were among those endearing qualities she loved most about him.

Taking out her phone, she glanced at the blackened screen. She was not looking forward to the conversation she knew they must have. When the phone suddenly jumped to life in her hand, she nearly dropped it. The display indicated it was Stan calling.

Swiping the green arrow, she put the phone to her ear.

“Hey honeybun,” Stan greeted, his tone overly friendly. She knew he was up to something.

“My big strong man,” she replied. “You’re lucky you caught me when you did, the plane will be boarding soon. What are you up to?”

“Nothing much, just sort of playing with some concentrated toluene,” he replied.

“Toluene? Should I even ask?” she questioned, not masking the resignation in her tone.

Chuckling, “I’m just sitting with my new friend, a young man named Kent McCready, and we were trying to figure out a way to get three of these practically indestructible Omega Pi wristband party favors off his wrist,” he explained.

Sam felt her stomach drop, “Oh?”

“Weirdest thing, I mean they look like rubber, feel like rubber and all, but for some bizarre reason we just couldn’t get them off. Couldn’t stretch them out, couldn’t cut them, we even tried to burn one off. No joy until toluene,” Stan shared.

“What?” she asked.

“Toluene, noxious shit that it is, for whatever reason softened them up enough we could get them off Kent’s wrist,” he explained.

Sam knew the boy’s name, aware his harvesting was only a few hours away. Cradling the phone close to her face, “Stan, what are you doing?” she asked in a whispered tone.

Stan paused before responding. “What do you mean? I’m trying to find our son and for some stupid reason you’re treating me like a goddamn mushroom, in the dark and covered in horseshit.”

Closing her eyes, Sam let out a breath. “I don’t want to have this conversation right now, over the phone, please,” she petitioned.

“Either you talk to me right now or I phone up Carol and tell her to tell that grey haired witch that I have tonight’s prize pony and they can go fuck themselves,” he growled into the phone.

“Stan, no,” she blurted, panic in her voice.

“You know I will,” he warned.

“You can’t honey, you don’t understand,” she countered.

“Then help me understand for Christ’s sake!” he barked.

Sam could feel her eyes beginning to well up, “Please, okay, I love you, I’ll tell you, but I don’t think you’re going to believe me,” she replied, voice cracking and threatening to break with emotion.

“With some of the shit I’ve been through today, the line between what I will and won’t believe is getting pretty blurry so hit me,” he encouraged.

“I don’t know where to start,” she replied.

“The beginning or maybe like where our son is?”

“Alright, alright,” she conceded. “The last I heard Oliver is still at the Omega Pi house, with Sersei Crawford.”

“I knew it! I knew he was there! Those lying tramps,” Stan crowed.

“It’s not quite so cut and dried, he’s been, I don’t know how best to describe it, changed,” Sam relayed.

“Changed? What do you mean?” Stan asked.

“The sisters there, well, there is a process or ritual the sorority has been using for over a hundred years that transfer energy,” she revealed.

“What the hell are you talking about and how is Oliver tied into this?” Stan challenged.

Nervous chuckle masking her anxiety, “The sisters took his energy, converted it from matter and through the process, he’s been altered, physically,” she continued.

“Altered how and why him?”

“The sisters usually only harvest of their own progeny,” Sam reluctantly revealed.

“So, what, because Oliver is your kid, I don’t follow,” Stan confessed.

“Yes, because I belong to the sorority, that’s why he was taken,” she admitted.

“Taken, okay, so what is it they did to him. How was he altered?”

“They made him small,” she responded.

“Small? Like, what do you mean?”

“The size of your index finger,” she answered.

“What?”

“I told you, you wouldn’t believe it,” she sighed.

“That’s not even possible, that’s crazy, like, shit,” he paused. “If for a moment I accept what you’re telling me and this kind of thing could happen, you knew,” he accused. “That night you got juiced up and all maudlin, you knew,” there was an underlying current of anger in his voice.

“Yes,” she admitted, unable to contain the sob. When there was no reply from the phone, “Stan?”

“I don’t, why, why would you do that? Oliver is an awesome kid! I would fucking die for that boy!” he snarled no longer masking the rage he felt.

“I love him too, but this thing, it is so much bigger than you know, generations. I would never, please listen, there is so much at stake right now. There are people as we speak trying to get to him to help him to save him. You have to believe me,” she cried.

“Believe you? How can I possibly believe you? Why you would even put him in danger that way in the first place? It doesn’t make any sense,” he countered angrily.

“It is bigger than one boy, Stan, please, there are many boys in the same danger as Oliver and I’m doing what I can to save as many of them as I can. If I didn’t send Oliver, I would have jeopardized all those other boys,” she defended.

“I don’t give a goddamn about those other boys, Oliver is my son!” he snapped, and then his voice softened, “he’s my son.”

“We are going to get him back Stan and in such a way they won’t ever be looking for him,” she assured.

Stan chuckled softly, “I know what I have to do,” he replied.

An announcement came over the public address system calling for advanced boarding to Sam’s flight.

“I’ll be there in a few hours, please just wait, please, there’s still more you need to know and I’ll explain everything, I promise,” she avowed.

“More?” he asked. “That’s just wonderful. What more could there possibly be?”

“Your mother,” she said softly.

“What?”

Taking a deep breath, “I knew her, she was my best friend and she was one of us. She died trying to protect you, to hide you from this very same sisterhood. That’s why we couldn’t just run away with Oliver, why this had to unfold this way,” she explained.

Stan disconnected the call.

Precious Little Memories

Stark naked, Sersei lay on her stomach, arms folded under her pillows, savoring the residual little feelings deliciously traveling through her body amidst the drool leaking out of her. Nestled in the diamond between her sex and the slopes of her ass cheeks, she felt a tickle as Oliver moved.  Wiggling her hips from side to side, she chuckled. “You still alive down there little fellow?” she asked.

Pressed in amongst her delicate flesh, Oliver twisted to the side and slid his hand in near the flukes of her rectum, getting a secure enough handhold to pull himself up and free of her velvet prison.

“That tickles,” warned Sersei, clenching her glutes.

Scampering up over the globe of her left ass cheek, Oliver, on weak legs crossed the dimple to the hollow at the small of her back. Pausing to catch his breath, he surveyed the ascent up her back to the tangle of blonde hair spilling over her shoulders. What was her plan? By all counts, she had come at least a half dozen times, how much more could she possibly have in her before needing to take some kind of a break. Pushing back hair thick in her congealing grool, he pressed forward, tracking up slight hollow up the center of her back.

Emitting a high-pitched noise, Sersei shimmied slight to the sensation of little feet walking up her spine, “OMG, you have no idea how hard it is to not move,” she squealed.

Despite her assertion about being still, Oliver felt her entire body quaking as she wrestled the urge to not move. Not until he managed to capture a few loose strands of her golden locks did he have any defense against the ground under him trembling.  

Veering to his left in amongst her hair, he bent down and tried to wipe some of the mess from his body on her before slipping over her shoulder to stand on the pillow near her face.

“There you are little one,” she purred, blowing on him slightly.

Wrapping arms about his chest, “Brrr,” he noised, making her smile.

“You’re so cute,” she commented.

Given his proximity to her face, the thought of urinating crossed his mind though he knew it was only a passive aggressive response to the power balance between them. No, while not overly stoked about his current situation, he was still intent on trying to win her and gain her allegiance. “Up close you are absolutely stunning,” he complimented, giving her an appreciative grin.

She smiled.

“And I’ve already gotten into your pants, so you know it must be true,” he stated, moving closer and caressing the soft side of her cheek before leaning in and kissing the vermillion border at the upper edge of her top lip.

Puckering her lips, the movement pulling him closer, she planted a kiss on him.

Pushing himself back, “I am famished. Is there any possible way I could get some fuel in the tank?” he asked, patting his midriff.

“I’m all sweaty so shower first I think,” she mused, disentangling her left arm from the pillow and propping herself on her right side.

Her movement caused Oliver to lose his footing, tumbling him into the hollow depression in the pillow caused by her head, on his back, both legs in the air.

Giggling, she leaned down, mouth open, capturing his legs between her full lips, his torso facing up toward her nose.

Suddenly, Oliver felt strong pressure around his abdomen as she created a seal with her lips and started to suck him into her mouth. With vivid clarity, he remembered watching Cam vanish into Cerys giant maw and his first inclination was to struggle. The slick but pebbled surface of her tongue felt firm against his calves as she drew him in. Raising his hands, he pushed with all his might against her puckered upper lip. The force was too much.

Using her lips and only gentle pressure with her teeth to secure him, Sersei got up off the bed. She herself had never swallowed a little one and the thought danced across the back of her mind what it might be like. Slipping on her bathrobe, she collected her shower kit and danced out into the hall, practically bumping into Harmony.

Startled, “Mmph,” she noised around Oliver before placing him in the palm of her free hand.

Eyes on Oliver and remembering the incredible sensations of the swoon, “Sorry,” apologized the younger girl, voice meek, a hue of rosy blush on her pale cheeks.

Sersei giggled, “No harm, no foul,” she stated.

Marveling at the boy as he oriented himself in Sersei’s hand, “I think it’s still so incredible,” she murmured, reaching up with a tentative hand.

“I know you got a chance to see my brother the other day, but here, hold him,” offered the buxom blonde.

Offering no resistance, Oliver allowed Harmony to pick him up, her delicate hand careful as she cautiously collected him.

“He weighs practically nothing,” Harmony breathed, bringing her hand up to inspect him.

Looking up at her, Oliver flashed her a smile, “Hi Harmony,” he said, speaking up to make sure she heard him.

“Hi Oliver,” she replied, returning his smile. Holding him, a delicious sensation moistened her between the thighs followed quickly by a surge of guilt.

 “Here,” Sersei said, moving to reclaim the miniaturized youth. “You’ll get your turn soon enough,” she advised, taking him back into her hand and closing her fingers around him.

With only his head showing, Oliver flashed Harmony a wink before Sersei carried him into the bathroom where the girl named Monroe was standing in front of the mirror applying eye makeup. “Hey Sers,” she greeted, squinting through one eye.

“Hey Monroe,” Sersei replied.

Leaning back from the mirror, “Ooh, have you got Oliver there?” she asked.

“Our very own little house mouse in the flesh,” Sersei answered.

Noting the shower kit and bathrobe, “If it was me, I think a bath might be a lot more fun than a shower,” she commented, leaning forward to get a better look at the diminished boy. “He’s so cute.”

Pausing a moment, Sersei grinned broadly. Not only was there a tub over at her grandmother’s house, there was also a much greater degree of privacy. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

Disharmony

After her encounter with Sersei in the hallway, Harmony returned to her room, mind and body at odds. Flopping onto her bed, she pulled a pillow over her face.

Even before the first time she had met Oliver in his dorm room, she had already known they would be taking him. She had not known what to expect. He was very attractive, big, tall, and possessed of an air of confidence. Seeing him just now in Sersei’s palm filled her with sadness, though her body lit up with lust instantly. She also knew her mother planned this fate for Linus as well. Grist for the Omega Pi mill, stripped of life energy and used up by the libidinous want of sisters not unlike her current housemates. Sersei had compared the little ones to cigarette butts, disposable, but Oliver was still Oliver, not some empty vessel. It was obvious by the color of her skin and the perspiration on her brow she had just pleasured herself with Oliver.

What about Linus? In the house Harmony grew up, there was only the three of them and her mother had always been aloof of her brother. According to her mother, her father abandoned the family when she was still pregnant with Linus and she often times wondered if that was the source of her disdain for the boy. It was ironic that the harder her mother tried to drive a wedge between her and Linus, the closer she felt to him. She tried hard to dispel the image of her shrunken brother being passed around from sister to sister while they laughed at his fate. What was she to do?

All the sisters knew what happened to the last sister who tried to brook against the sorority. Some thirty years ago or so, a pregnant Mildred Stanhope attempted to flee and escape the sorority. When she gave birth to her child, she had arranged to hide him from Omega Pi. They never found the infant, but they found her. The story of her punishment was stuff of legend but no matter what they did to her, Mildred remain unyielding, refusing to divulge anything relating to her newborn son. Nothing. This infuriated the ruling circle. To prove a point, both Edith Frost and Agatha Hall performed a reaping before Miss Frost made a public display of swallowing the diminished Mildred alive.

How could she possibly hope to try to save Linus? Not only was he an amazing brother, but in truth he was probably her best friend.

The door opened and closed.

“Oh geez, sorry. Do you have a headache?” Acacia inquired, trying to decide whether she should leave or stay.

Removing the pillow from her face, she sat up and swung her legs off the bed, “No, I just ran into Sersei and Oliver in the hall and she let me hold him,” she shared.

Bouncing across the room, Acacia took a seat beside Harmony, “OMG, how was it? Was it cool? Like, did you imagine the stuff you could do?” she asked, peppering the brunette girl with questions.

Harmony chuckled, “Sure, I mean, it was so weird to have him in my hand,” she confessed.

Acacia flopped back on the bed, right hand patting her crotch, left hand cradling her left breast, “I would love to play with him, or any little one,” she declared. “The best I can hope for is one of them survives the round of choosing and I get a shot, unless…,” she left the rest unsaid rolling her head to look up at Harmony.

“Unless?”

“Unless you spare a few moments and give your roommate a chance for a little fun,” she stated, a hint of plead in her tone as she made big eyes.

Turning her head, Harmony smiled down at Acacia, “My claim on Oliver is still days and sisters away and who knows, but we’ll see,” she offered, trying to be noncommittal. An image of Linus flashed through her mind, him small and helpless and in Acacia’s clutches and then her using him.

Rolling onto her side facing the seated girl, “You are the bestest roommate ever,” cooed Acacia, patting Harmony lightly on the top of the thigh.

“Right back at you,” she responded, manufacturing a smile.

“Oh, I heard they are taking precautions for Kent tonight to make sure he doesn’t get out and about like Oliver,” Acacia informed, pushing herself back into a seated position.

“That’s good,” Harmony said halfheartedly.

“I’m so jealous of Maeve right now,” she stated, sighing dramatically and rolling her eyes.

“Yep, she’s probably pretty excited right about now,” opined Harmony.

Twisting to the side and drawing up her leg to face Harmony, “You know what I would do first?”

Harmony shook her head, “I really don’t know.”

Gyrating her hips slowly, “I think well first I would completely wrap him up in something, I don’t know, tape maybe, and bit by bit, like aching slow, teasing myself, I would use him to make me cum, fuck I’m getting wet just thinking about it,” she chuckled. “I would make him slurp up every sweet drop he was able to pull from me.”

Again, the thought of Acacia using Linus the way she described made Harmony want to punch the other girl right in the face.

“I think I might need a little alone time,” Acacia chuckled.

Harmony nodded, getting to her feet. “I got some running around to do so the room is yours for the next little while,” she informed.

“I love all the little innuendos, so cheeky when you’re in on the joke,” she chuckled. “I feel a little horny.”

Harmony smiled and nodded, “A little overwhelmed,” she said jokingly, though her heart really was not into it as she headed for the door.

“See you in a little bit,” Acacia replied.

Despite the mental revulsion of the images her minding had created, Harmony herself was dewy between the thigh, excited, aroused. She needed some fresh air to clear her thoughts. Why was she so turned on?

I’ve had all I can Stand

Still in the corner of the parking lot where he had used the chemical to remove the Omega Pi bands, Stan leaned back against the passenger side of the minivan, looking down at the phone in his hands, an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. This was all so bizarre. Closing his eyes, he lifted his chin toward the sky hollering, “FUUUUUCK!” a coarse yell, a mix of rage, frustration, and grief.

Several other people within earshot paused to look over, making sour expressions of disproval.

“Mind your business,” he growled. His phone rang. It was Sam.

Letting out a long breath, he swiped the green arrow.

“Stan, honey-“

“Stop,” he directed. “I got to get this off my chest. If you knew some evil shit was coming for your son, as his mother you had a moral obligation and responsibility to do everything in your power to protect him! You should have told me! I would have and will fight for him until my last breath and there is nothing left of me to give, until the heart in my chest ceases to beat!” the more emotional he became, the cadence of his speech increased.

“I was wrong not to tell you, I see that now,” she sobbed. “You are his father and you of all people deserved to know, had the right to know.”

“Yes I did,” he acknowledged, exhaling loudly.

Sam let out a slow breath, “I screwed this up so bad baby, I want to make it right, for Oliver, for all of us,” she said.

“Yeah, okay, now what’s this business about my mother?”

“Her name was Mildred, honey, she loved you. I’m begging you not to do anything rash. There are plans in place to rescue Oliver and I know you don’t want to jeopardize him. I don’t want to lose you either, can’t lose either of you to them,” she pleaded.

In the background of her call, he could hear the sound of the PA system announcing boarding.

“Honey, I love Oliver more than life itself, and I love you, I have to go but I’ll be there as soon as I can. Stan,” she petitioned, voice breaking.

“I love you too Sam, I do, but we got to make this right,” he declared.

“We will, I promise you,” she assured. “I have to go. I will see you soon. I love you.”

“Yep,” he replied, disconnecting the call.

Through the call, Kent remained silent, quietly rubbing at the irritated and pinkish skin where the bands had been. “I really appreciate you getting those bands off,” he said.

Not bothering to look over at the lanky youth, “Yeah,” Stan said.

Seated in the open cargo door of the van next to Stan, “So, um, I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything, but that all seemed kind of intense. I’m not sure what we’re going to do,” said the boy, unsure of his standing with the older man.

“You? You’re going to lay low,” Stan replied, nodding slowly.

“Where?”

Slipping his phone into his shirt pocket, “That my young friend is a very good question. My head is spinning right now, but for the moment we have the advantage because those evil magpies have no clue we are on to them,” he responded. “Stop rubbing your wrist.”

“I still burns sort of,” protested the youth.

“At least they’re off,” he said, reaching through the open window in the passenger door and fetching a bottle of water from the console and handing it to the boy. “Here, use this.”

Kent alternated dousing his wrists until the bottle was empty.

“I think we need to get out of here in case they have some way of knowing we took them off and decide they need to come investigate,” he urged, walking around the front of the van, glancing at traffic, specifically looking for a police car or anything else suspicious.

“Okay,” Kent agreed, getting up and sliding the cargo door closed and climbing in the passenger seat.

“If we see any of them, we might need to ditch the van too, one of them broads is a cop and took down my info,” Stan said, starting the vehicle.

Kent nodded, rubbing his inflamed wrist against the denim fiber of his pants.

“Quit rubbing it,” Stan chastised.

“Where are we going?” countered Kent.

“Are we there yet?”

A confused look clouded Kent’s face, “What?”

“Just saving you the trouble of asking me another question I don’t know the answer to. What is your deal anyway? Hold on, McCready, your last name is McCready? As in McCready Oil?” Stan asked, flicking the kid a glance.

Kent nodded.

“Shit. Any connection to that thing?” It was in all the papers about ten years back. Apparently, Oil baron Colt McCready shot his wife to death and then turned the gun on himself in a murder suicide. At least that was how all the national papers played out the scandal. Two kids left behind, a boy and a girl.

“My parents. I don’t really like to talk about it much,” Kent replied softly.

“Jesus, sorry kid, fuck,” Stan murmured, unsure of what words to say next.

Shrugging his stooped shoulders, “It was a long time ago,” he replied.

Riding in silence for several minutes, Stan broke the uncomfortable tension, “With the kind of money in your family, what the hell are you doing in a residential dorm?” Stan asked, snorting.

“Any money coming from my parents was placed in trust for me until my twenty-first birthday. My aunt is my legal guardian and custodian of that trust until then and she thinks it is important I gain an appreciation for the, how did she word it, the toils of the common man,” Kent explained.

“Kind of makes sense,” Stan conceded.

“Except my sister was sent to the finest schools and wanted for nothing. Right now she is COO for McCready Oil,” the boy replied with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“She’s older than you?”

“Five and half years,” answered Kent.

“Then maybe we just found ourselves an ace in the hole here,” Stan chuckled.

Frowning, “I’m pretty sure she is an Omega Pi,” Kent replied, popping Stan’s bubble.

“And your aunt?”

Kent nodded, “Yep, both she and my mother belonged to the sorority too, that’s why my sister was a shoo-in.”

“Not any of my business, but how much are you worth?”

“On paper, generally around a couple of billion or so. Depends mostly on the global market and how stocks are trading,” supplied the youth.

“Dollars?” Stan choked.

Kent chuckled, “All of McCready Oil, my father left it all to me before the, you know, the thing,” he explained.

“Nothing for your sister?”

Kent shook his head, “Like I said, she governs McCready Oil, but on paper it’s all mine, or will be when I turn twenty one.”

“Holy shit,” he breathed with a whistle.

“They were twins you know,” Kent offered.

“What? Who?” Stan queried, clicking the turn signal indicator and pulling around a corner.

“My mom and my aunt, they were twins, like, you know before,” he shared.

Stan frowned, “Kind of weird, I mean, like just, I don’t know, like living with a ghost or something,” he tried to clarify.

Shrugging again, “I guess, same mannerisms, same laugh, I don’t know, I honestly didn’t see her a whole lot as she was always busy with overseeing the business,” expanded Kent. “She never really had much time for me.”

Slapping his hands on the steering wheel, “That’s because she’s in on all this shit. She wants you out of the way to keep her greedy little gold digging hands on your daddy’s fortune. Evil,” Stan declared, his cell phone making noise that sounded like a beer can opening twice is quick succession.

“I don’t think she can,” Kent said, but there was no conviction in his voice. “I mean, they tried to contest the will on account of the crime, but it held up.”

Paranoia beginning to take root in his belly, “Cops, judges, lawyers, CEOs, these broad have tendrils everywhere, they won’t need the courts if they can just quietly push you out of the way,” Stan countered, mentally replaying his conversation with Sam and about the breadth of the organization stealing young men. Maybe there was no other choice.

Pulling into a Walmart, Stan parked the minivan, concealing it in an anonymous sea of other vehicles. Pulling out the phone, he saw two message on his phone, both from Deacon.

‘Just saw the biggest squirrel ever. That CHICK who was supposed to be in OLIVE country just left the henhouse. Followed her to a fancy place near the edge of the city. Just saw another fancy car arrive with some silvery white haired egg layer. Going to see if I can get A LITTLE closer and check it out,’ read the message. The second message was an address.

Stan had definitely instructed Deacon and Cady to stay put so what in the hell were the pair doing scoping out the Omega house? The code word fit, so there was that. He got the notion the chick reference was to Sersei Crawford. Silvery white haired egg layer though, could that be the same grey haired broad who made him ill earlier? If it was, Deacon and Cady had both just jumped into the fire feet first. ‘Squirrel? You sure it wasn’t a raccoon? STAND DOWN!’

There was no response.

 Sweet Temptation

Getting to her feet, Agnes extended her hand to Cam, “Come, we’ll go get some food, but first there is someone I would like to introduce you to,” she beckoned, smile on her face.

While Agnes wore a dress, Cam was naked. Feeling awkward, he wrapped the blanket around himself as he stood. “I don’t have any clothes on,” he mumbled.

Agnes nodded, “I apologize. We received you on very short notice and were ill prepared. We will be able to get you some garments later in the day. If it makes you feel more comfortable with the blanket, please do,” she replied, still smiling.

He nodded. It did make him feel better, safer, like the blanket you pulled over your head to hide from the monster in the closest.

“That’s good,” she praised, turning her hand over to receive his.

Cam took her hand and allowed her guide him out of the room. The doorway emptied onto a polished wooden table, lower to the ground, like a broad coffee table. The rest of the space beyond opened into some type of den or private library, the paneled walls lined with ornate wooden shelves. Behind him, splayed opened was a very regal and fancy looking dollhouse.

“Now, before you get all worked up, I don’t want you to panic,” Agnes cautioned, tone soothing as if talking to a frightened child.

“Alright,” assured Cam, flashing her a small smile.

A normal woman dressed in a grey business type skirt and white silk blouse stepped into view, crouching down next to the table, the subtle essence of flowers trailing her.

Cam’s mouth opened and closed as his eyes widened. She was beautiful and terrifying in that unobtainable Omega kind of way, dark hair professionally coiffed, face a placid mask of flawless perfection.

“This is Thomasin,” Agnes introduced, extending a hand toward the giant sized woman.

Panic gripped Cam and icy claws of fears tore at his belly, “I, I,” he muttered, pulling away from Agnes and involuntarily taking a handful of steps backward.

Inclining her head forward slight, plump lips parting into a porcelain smile, “Hello Cameron,” Thomasin greeted.

Pulling his blanket more securely about his body, “No,” Cam said meekly, shaking his head. In his mind, she seemed to loom up over her, that hungry glint in her eye.

Stepping back to him, “It’s alright,” soothed Agnes, “she’s with us,” she said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I know you’ve been through a lot,” Thomasin commiserated, looking down empathetically on the handsome boy with mussed hair. Was she stirring?

Cam turned abruptly to Agnes, “Has she been shrunk and passed around and used? My guess is no so how could she know, how could she?” he challenged.

Raising her hands to calm the boy, “Suffering takes many shapes and forms, but know she has lost loved ones too,” informed Agnes.

She was stirring, the fire in her loins igniting. Clearing her throat, Thomasin nodded.

Recognizing the signs, “We are practically starving and could use something tasty,” Agnes announced, abruptly changing the flavor of the conversation

“It just so happens I have prepared a veritable buffet of delectable offerings,” Thomasin stated before straightening up. Smoothing her skirt, she quit the study, trying to quell the sinful tingling sensation between her legs. Only a few days removed from the swoon she had attended, she had not indulged her lust, her need. Seeing Cameron only served to stoke the fire of want. Was it his fear or just the thought of possessing him? A piece of red meat before a lioness? She had cautioned Agnes that interacting with him might be too soon but the older woman expressed confidence in Thomasin’s ability to curb the impulse. How long had it been since she had last had the opportunity to feed her passion with a little one? At least two years. Collecting the small platter, she took a deep breath and reminded herself it was in part due to the power of the stone working on him as well as her that made her feel this way. With that in mind, she returned to the study.

“There we are,” Agnes said, pointing at the stunning brown-haired woman as she entered the room and set the small dish down on the table.

Cam eyed the gigantic woman warily, her make up not entirely covering the hint of color in her cheeks.

Sensing the boy’s nervous reluctance, “Come now Cameron, please, eat,” invited Agnes.

Moving over to the ceramic dish, Cam’s stomach rumbled as he looked at the bountiful variety of food. The offerings on the plate include small cut up portions of assorted fresh fruits, berries, different cheeses, pastries, and deli meats.

Smiling down on Cam, “Please, everything is fresh,” Thomasin invited, motioning to the plate with her hand.

Adjusting his blanket to maintain his dignity, Cam sat beside the plate, grabbing whatever happened to be within arm’s reach and stuffing it ravenously into his mouth.

Settling in beside the boy, “Careful, we don’t want you to choke now,” Agnes warned, selecting a sliver of peach and biting into it, a dribble of juice crossing her chin. “It’s a good thing you’ve brought napkins,” she chuckled, wiping at the sticky juice.

Cam made an unintelligible noise and nodded. He could not help himself. It had seemed like forever since he had eaten as he continued to gorge himself.

Loins aching, “If there is nothing pressing in the immediate future, I’ve other matters to attend to,” Thomasin announced, folding her hands in front of herself.

Looking up, Agnes cocked her head to one side, “Is everything alright?” she inquired.

Thomasin glanced at Cam and then back to Agnes, “Of course, everything is currently under control,” she assured. Was this perhaps some type of test by the older woman, evaluating her resolve?

Agnes nodded, watching as the giant woman turned and removed herself from the room.

Outside in the hall, Thomasin chuckled softly to herself. It would have been so easy just to take him. Was she wet? Letting out a sigh, she knew if this had been a test, she had passed. Just.

What Big Eyes You Have

Shifting inside the orange plastic pill bottle, Oliver did his best to secure himself from bouncing around in Sersei’s purse. After she cleaned him up, she had placed him in the empty bottle to ferry him. She had openly discussed sliding him down the front of her panties and transporting him that way, but decided against it on account of she wanted him presentable to meet her grandmother.

Once the purse stopped moving, he could hear the sounds of voices, one belonging to Sersei, the other unfamiliar to him.

“I have my little one,” Sersei crowed.

“What in the heavens are you doing here then girl?” asked the unfamiliar voice.

“I REALLY wanted to have a bath,” Sersei expressed, drawing out the word really.

“Well, let us have a look at your new toy,” urged the other speaker.

Reaching into her purse, Sersei brought out the smallish pill container. Carefully removing him from the plastic tube, Sersei set him and the container down on the coffee table. “Oliver, this is my grandmother Eleanor, grandmother, this Oliver,” she introduced. “I’ll leave the two of you to get acquainted while I get the water ready,” she said, clapping her hands together and bounding off.

Getting to his feet, Oliver brushed his hands over his body as he looked to the extremely attractive woman seated on the ornate looking chesterfield. Her brown hair swept back, she obviously maintained herself and took some pride in her appearance.

Leaning forward, arms resting across her thighs, “You are certainly a handsome little dickens aren’t you?” the woman asked, smiling down on him.

Was this her grandmother? Trying to win Sersei over with his charm, Oliver was too heavily invested to break character, so he swallowed his sarcastic indictment of the older woman and said, “I can certainly see where Sersei gets her incredible beauty from.” He hoped the smile on his face appeared more sincere than it felt. How many boys had she stolen the lives from to look so good? He wanted to throw Cam’s name at her and make her feel the fate she had consigned to her grandson. There was no point.

 “Flatterer,” the woman accused, a twinkle in her eye.

“It’s not flattery if it’s true,” he countered.

“So you are the little scamp who caused the ruckus at your harvest,” she said with an amused half-smile.

Oliver spreads his hands and tried to look sheepish, “The whole process was, let’s say, a little overwhelming,” he voiced.

Eyes looking toward the door out of the room, “You should consider yourself fortunate she collected you before others did,” she said.

Choking back on the venomous jab forming on his lips, “I sure am lucky,” he said, smiling. Did she really think him dimwitted enough to actually think he shoulder consider himself lucky? If she did, she hid it behind her perfect mask.

Almost as if reading his mind, “You are not a very good liar,” she accused, the smile on her face turning wry.

Evaluating her, he shook his head slowly, “What boy wouldn’t jump at the chance to spend some time with your amazing granddaughter?” he asked.

“After your shenanigans at the sorority, I am finding your docile little show her somewhat circumspect so why don’t cut the shit,” she suggested.

Eyes narrowing, he knew she saw right through his game. “You want to cut the shit? Okay, where do we start, oh I know, maybe your grandson, his name was Cameron and by now whatever he once was or ever aspired to be has turned to shit. And if your darling peach of a granddaughter doesn’t kill me chasing another orgasm, then next sister in line, or the one after that will. So if you think maybe I’m not conveying a deep enough sense of gratitude to Sersei, I’m sorry,” he spat back, the rant feeling good.

Rewarding him with a smile, “Well said,” she replied, bringing her hands together.

He wanted to tell her to go fuck herself, but even after all he had been through, thought it ungentlemanly, so instead, gave her a mocking smile.

“Speaking of Cameron, I heard he collapsed in on himself like a cheap tent. Disappointing really, the feisty ones are always the most fun,” she purred.

What could he say to that?

“I don’t know if Sersei is aware of your lineage, but you have no idea what I wouldn’t give for a couple of hours with Edith Frost’s biological grandson,” she added, the gleam in her eyes menacing and filled with deadly promise.

Would Sersei pass him off to the old girl? Before he could retort with something clever, a knock sounded from the front door.

Eleanor held his eyes a moment longer. “I wonder who that could be?” she asked, curling her the fingers of her right hand around him and squeezing tightly enough to force the air from his lungs. “One moment,” she called out, picking up the pill bottle and shuffling him inside before sealing the cap above his head. Setting the bottle on the table, she got to her feet and departed the room.

When she returned, she was with another woman. Through the curved side of his containment, the plastic not thick enough to distort the image, Oliver could see the woman clearly. She was different, and not just in appearance. Though tinted orange, he could tell her hair was light, probably almost white or silver and there were no lines in her stunningly attractive face. She looked to be about the same age as Sersei, but he got the very disturbing sense she was like Edith and much, much older than she appeared to be.

Taking a seat, she looked at the bottle standing out on the polished table. “Hello little one,” she greeted, a hint of the smile on her perfect lips touching her eyes as she tapped the plastic cap atop the bottle.

Inside his prison, Oliver bowed respectfully.

Picking up the bottle with her right hand, the woman pressed down on the lid and removed the cap, tilting it enough to allow Oliver to crawl into her left palm.

A hint of some scented lotion touched his nostrils as he crawled out onto the smooth flesh. Her long straight hair was mostly silver, streaks of white through it. Her eyes caught his attention, as they seemed to scintillate and subtly change in color.

Bringing him closer to her face, “And who might you be?” she asked, eyes sparkling.

“Oliver Haynes,” he replied, “and you?”

The woman’s brows rose. “Oliver? Well now isn’t this a treat. A Frost by any other name,” she said with a beaming smile, a hint of mint on her warm breath as she spoke.

Getting to his feet, “Who are you?” he asked.

The woman looked at Eleanor and then back to Oliver before smiling, “You may call me Sabina,” she offered.

Sersei appeared in the room, spotted the woman and immediately drew to a halt, hands clasped in front of her, eyes down cast, “I’m sorry to intrude, I did not realize you were here Proavia,” she voiced, there was a note of concern in her voice.

Eyes on Oliver, “Think nothing of it, I am here for the McCready harvest tonight and decided to drop in because I was in town. I was just getting to know young mister, Haynes you said right?”

Oliver nodded. Judging by the way this woman carried herself and the behavior both Eleanor and Sersei displayed, she was someone with some stroke within the sorority. He did not know the word or title Sersei used, Proavia.

“Um, may I?” Sersei asked, smiling meekly and looking at Oliver.

Sabina chuckled, “Of course dear, why don’t you go enjoy your pet,” she offered, extending the hand with Oliver. “Your mother and I shall attend to the curious young man skulking around the outside of the house.”

Submariner

Quick as a flash, Sersei crossed the room and collected Oliver from Sabina, bounding from the room before either of the seated women could intercede.

Curled in the gigantic blonde girl’s fist, Oliver’s mind raced. Young man skulking outside? Young might be a subjective term for the silver haired Sabina. Could it be Stan? Could his dad have tracked Sersei to the house? His heart raced and then filled with an equal measure of dread as fast. What if it was Stan, he would have no way to know what these women could do. He would never suspect their game. Then again, Stan was not just some wallflower and these women had probably never met someone like him either.

“Sersei,” he grunted around the strong fingers holding him.

Bringing him in front of her as she ascended the stairs, “What is it precious?” she inquired.

Trying to talk, “The guy outside, what do you think the others will do to him?” he probed, hoping to get some indication of the stranger’s identity or inclination of older women’s power.

Sersei shrugged, “Don’t know, but, what I do know,” she started, opening the bathroom door and stepping into the steamy bathroom, the smell of lilac bath oils strong in the air, “is that we are going to have a bath together.”

Oliver’s eyes drifted over to the old style claw-footed bathtub, foamy bubbly visible near the top as she crossed the room and set him on the edge of the tub, the proximity to hot water and humid air making his skin flush.

Stepping back, she began to undress. While she was not making a show of it, he watched in rapt fascination, her massive breasts once freed swaying as she removed her pants and socks.

Padding to the edge of the tub, she grinned down at him, the heated moisture in the air making the flawless skin of her perfect megalithic body glisten.

“Wow,” he murmured, half-scripted, half in actual awe of her majestic presence.

Seeing his admiration, she smiled before stepping over him and into the tub.

Oliver watched the water level in the tub rise dramatically as she slowly eased herself into it with a contented sound, draping her lithe arms over the sides and reclining her head back. “That feels positively amazing,” she sighed.

Cautiously navigating around the perimeter of the lip on the old-fashioned tub to accidently avoid falling, Oliver approached her left hand, bubble residue clinging to her long delicate fingers. Gently touching her, “I know I’m no position to make demands, but I would ask a favor,” he said, using his best puppy dog eyes.

Rolling her head to look at him, Sersei smiled at him and lifted a finger, caressing his chest, “What would you like lover?” she asked playfully.

“I think the guy outside might be my dad Stan, I don’t know, and I’m worried what might happen,” he expressed genuinely.

“The guy outside? What makes you think it is your dad? It could be a neighborhood kid out mowing lawns, or the paperboy, or the mailman,” she voiced.

The way she said it, a subtle pause before speaking, conveyed so much more than her words. She knew something. Taking a stab, “You’ve seen him, my dad,” he asserted.

Exhaling strongly through her nose, “No, I did not see him,” she attested, emphasizing the word see.

It had to be Stan. “What then, please tell me,” he invited, stroking the side of her finger.

Innocent look transforming into mischievous, “I think you should be focusing more on what we are going to do here,” she urged, sweeping him off the edge of the tub and into the soapy bathwater.

Sputtering, Oliver surfaced, swimming through the foam toward the reclining girl. Feeling her flesh under him, he pulled himself up onto the alabaster slope of her buoyant left breast, steadying himself on her stiffening nipple. Pushing his hair back from his face with his free hand, he smiled up at her. In his heart, he knew Stan was here. “I will do anything and everything in my power to please you my golden goddess,” he assured, burying his spark of hope.

Sersei beamed, “I am your goddess,” she cooed.

Tilting his head slightly to the side, he flashed her a smile and tracing his fingers around perimeter of her now erect nipple.

Sucking her bottom lip back into her mouth, she brought her right hand up slowly, caressing her other breast, teasing the nipple.

Bending down, he put his lips to her taut flesh and kissed it lightly.

Bringing her other hand up under him, she cupped his body, thumbs stroking his back.

Glancing up, he gave her a wan smile, “I wish it was just you and not all those other girls,” he said sorrowfully, hoping it sounded sincere enough. He certainly did not have the luxury of time, quite the opposite.

“Rather than lament over how little time we have, maybe you should focus on ensuring the quality of our time together is meaningful,” she suggested, applying pressure to his back and mashing his upper body against her engorged nipple and titillating herself.

He knew better than to struggle, given the power behind her movements she could easily break something of his inadvertently.

Arching her hips slightly upward, bringing her tummy out of the water, she guided him down along the length of her body toward the smooth swell of her Mound of Venus, the bubble residue lubricating the path.

Like a spider cocooning prey, she altered the position of her fingers without letting him up. Index finger pressed firmly behind his head, she guided him into vale of her swollen labia, her natural scents mingling with the oils from the water. Ultra slick in her application, she slipped him head first three quarters of his length inside the tight channel of her sex.

For Oliver, he found it hard to breathe, the flesh constricting around him like a boa constrictor, pulling him deeper inside her vagina.

Fingers on the bottoms of his feet, Sersei drove Oliver completely inside her pussy, swallowing him whole.

The undulation of the muscles around him told Oliver Sersei had lowered herself back into the tub while she played with herself. He hoped she would simply take herself to climax and then extract him.

Deke

Sitting in the passenger seat of Cady’s 1997 metallic green Chevrolet Cavalier, “I just want to see if I can sneak a peek inside. Remember, she is supposed to be with Oliver which means he might be here,” Deacon said, eyes scanning the impressive house up the way and across the street.

Cady shook her head, mouth pursed, “Stan said we were supposed to stay put. I honestly don’t think we should be here,” she replied, clenching and unclenching her hand on the steering wheel.

“For all we know right now, Oliver could be tied up in the basement and they’re harvesting his organs for the black market as we speak,” Deacon countered with a cheeky grin.

Rolling her eyes, Cady let out a sigh, “I highly doubt the sisters of Omega Pi are generating revenue for their house through the dubious organ trade,” she replied.

“I’m just going to drift over there and snoop around a bit, in, out, no one the wiser,” he assured. “Besides, I got my sneakers on.”

Grabbing Deacon by the collar, Cady pulled him close, kissing him on the lips, “Be careful!” she warned, eyes widening to emphasis her concern.

After the kiss, he spread his hand apart, “Please, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Rolling her eyes, Cady gave him a wry smile.

Flashing her a cheeky grin, he nodded and got out of the car.

Situated a substantial piece of property, the big house sat nestled amongst a number of Pasadena oak trees. Deacon imagined at one time the house was probably a manor house, isolated at the edge of the city but urban sprawl had brought civilization to it.

Crossing the street, he used the big trees as cover, approaching the house from the side and settling in beside some bushes.

Keeping low in the seat, Cady watched from the vantage of her car until Deacon vanished in amongst the vegetation around the house before reappearing and flashing her a wave. “We shouldn’t be here,” she murmured under her breath.

Feeling the rush of adrenalin, Deacon waited a moment to settle his breathing. The windows of the main floor were just above his head so he had to reach up and pull his body up to be able to peer in over the sill. He was not sure what is was he might be looking for, but hoped to catch a glimpse of something that might tell them where they could find Oliver. Nothing through this window.

Navigating slowly around the house, every noise he generated thunderous in his own ears, he tried to look into the house.

On the side away from Cady, near the front, he found two occupants of the house, neither whom he recognized, though one was the silvery haired woman who arrived in the fancy car and the other a brown-haired woman. If only the window was open, he might hear what they were discussing.

Sersei appeared suddenly so Deacon let himself drop to the ground. Had she seen him? Dammit. Pulling out his cell phone, he called up Stan’s message thread and put together a quick message, hoping to give him at least the heads up and warn the older man that he might have gotten a little too close. Was that enough? Nodding he sent the message, then immediately realized he had not said where here was so he hastily chased the first message with an address.

“Hello,” said a dusky female voice directly behind Deacon, the proximity so close it made him jump and lose his phone at the same time.

Turning, he looked at the woman, “Holy crap you scared the bejesus out me,” Deacon replied with a chuckle, mesmerized by the iridescent color of her eyes.

Bending down, she picked up his phone, the corner of her mouth pulling up into a small smile, “Can I help you?” she asked.

Grinning, “My stupid cat got out and I’m pretty sure I spotted him over here. I’m really sorry if I’m intruding,” he offered, eyes drifting down to the phone in the woman’s hand. The screen lit up.

“What is her name? Your cat?”

“His name is Mr. Bigglesworth, but we call him Biggie for short. May I have my phone please?” he asked, extending his hand. Something about the way she smiled made him shudder before something truly weird happened. She raised her hand and the next moment she was standing half a dozen feet away in the blink of an eye. “What the?” he babbled, mystified.

The woman smiled, holding his cell toward him, “Of course,” she replied.

Looking left then right, “What just happened?” he asked, taking a step forward to collect his phone. Why did his feet feel so heavy, like his shoes were made of lead? His mouth was dry.

Pleasant expression still on her face, she moved forward, placing the phone in his hand, but putting her other hand directly over his chest and suddenly driving him backward.

Unable to withstand the surprise force behind the move, Deacon grunted when his back hit the side of the house and pressed herself in close to him

“Are you a friend of Oliver’s?” she asked, mouth close enough to his right ear he could feel her breath.

Struggling to catch his own breath, Deacon coughed. What was happening? Why was she so strong? Reaching up with his free hand, he tried feebly to dislodge the hand pinning him to the wall and push her back but found he possessed no strength.

“Who is on the other end of the phone message?” she asked, breathing into his ear.

He would never tell. “Stan,” he gasped, mouth betraying his intent. Why would he tell her? There was a strange warmth pooling in his chest, feeling like it was radiating out of him and into her hand.

Her soft lips touched his ear, “So full of life,” she whispered.

Spots danced before his eyes and a whooshing sound filled his ears. It was the oddest sensation, almost like her hand was pushing against the whole of his chest as her fingers encircled his torso, her lips around the side of his entire head. So strange. It felt as if he were pouring out of himself. Could he have found his voice, he might have laughed, instead, he blacked out.

I♥You

Trapped inside Sersei’s snug slippery femininity, Oliver knew enough to position his body close to her cervix to source a small volume of respirable air. Despite what she was doing to pleasure herself externally, he forced himself to remain calm, breathing slowly and deliberately, each inhalation carrying her essence deep into his tiny being. The process was made more challenging as her efforts increased the swelling inside her pussy and female juice began to accumulate and displace his treasured reserve. The textured flesh around him began to quiver telling him her climax was imminent. Timing was crucial. Drawing in as big a breath as he could, he folded himself into a fetal ball, wrapping his arms around his legs. She came, the inner flesh collapsing spasmodically around him while the smooth flesh of her cervix thrust out to assault him. Mentally he counted her contractions, each delivering a massive wave of pressure over him until the power of her release spent itself.

Trying to chase his exhaled bubbles to the surface, Oliver propelled himself upward until he breached the surface of the water directly between her knees, where he gasped, drawing in heated but fresh air into his aching lungs.

Spotting him, “There you are my little pearl diver,” she jested, smile blooming on her face.

Swimming toward her and over her sex lurking below, he clasped the nipple of her left breast and looked to her face, giving her a smile. “I’ve had a look under the hood, and everything seems to be fine,” he replied, words coming breathlessly.

Sersei laughed, buoyant breasts jiggling at his saucy joke and nearly dislodging his hold.

“Stop, I’m literally drinking in your beauty,” he quipped, spraying out a mouthful of water.

Lowering her arms into the water, she swept him up further on her chest, “You stop,” she countered playfully.

Sputtering, he reoriented himself, “Is it wrong I just want to bathe in the moment?” he asked, transforming his tiny face into a mask of innocence.

Tilting her head slightly to the side, “I’m warning you,” she cautioned.

Grinning, “What?”

“Keep it up and maybe I’ll make you the butt of the joke,” she said mischievously, pausing on the word butt and raising her eyebrows. What might it feel like to have him there she wondered.

Was she talking about anal? Jesus, he hoped not. He could not imagine her trying to cram him into her tight little bud and the sleek tunnel behind. Raising his hands in defeat, “That’s like date 5 material there,” he offered, noticing that even though she seemed amused, there was a dangerous glint in her eye.

Exchange seemingly at an end, she secured him and rose up out of the water like some gorgeous leviathan, water caressing her naked flesh as it spilled away. Setting him back on the edge of the tub, she pulled a towel from the bar on the wall and dried her upper body before placing her foot up on the edge near him and drying first one leg then the other. Next, she placed the towel on her head and swirled it up then collected a small dollop of some type of lotion from a pump bottle and proceeded to spread across her lovely nude body.

“You are astoundingly beautiful,” Oliver commented.

Walking to the tub, looming over him, she continued to rub the floral scented into her skin, swaying slightly in a rhythmic way.

Show at an end, she padded softly across the floor and collected a plush bathrobe from the hook on the back of the door, throwing it around herself and coming back for him.

Down the hall from the bathroom, she took him into a nicely appointed bedroom decorated with antique looking furniture.

Setting him down on the top of the quilt covering the four-poster bed, she went to the oversized chair in the corner and opened her purse, returning with a small travel kit before joining him on the bed. Bringing her right leg up, knee bent, she put her foot on the bed near Oliver, “I am going to do my toenails,” she informed, opening the small kit and pulling out a bottle of bright red nail polish, shaking it.

Looking at the glass bottle, “Can I do one?” he asked.

“You want to try and paint my toenails?” she queried, smiling.

“Just one,” he replied, pointing at her big toe.

Nodding slowly, she unscrewed the cap containing the brush and dunked it into the polish a couple of times before carefully handing it to him.

Reaching out, Oliver took the brush by the cap. Not heavy, it was a little unbalanced and ungainly to yield. Add to that, the smell coming from the polish was super strong and burned his nostril. Moving around her toe, he positioned himself near the nail and angle the brush down, dabbing carefully to prevent a blot. With a couple of fairly smooth strokes, he fashioned a heart shape in the center of the nail, the point aim to her.

Seeing what he had done, Sersei brought her hands together in front of her, “Aww,” she sounded, moved by his design.

“For you,” he commented, wobbling a little bit on unsteady feet.

Smiling at him, she watched as he staggered some more. Reaching down quickly, she relieved him of the brush.

“I think it might be making me woozy,” he slurred a bit.

Recapping the vivid nail polish, she set the bottle aside and scooped him up in her hand, “Are you just the most precious thing ever?” she cooed.

Smiling at the compliment, Oliver took a couple of deep breaths to clear the noxious fumes from his lungs.

Expression concerned, “Are you okay?” she asked.

Nodding slowly, Oliver paused a moment and then offered her a little smile. He felt bad deceiving her into thinking the fumes from the polish had affected him but having her think she had exposed him to potential danger only helped further his goal of getting her to see him as a person and not some mere sexual plaything.

No Stone Unturned

Her gait slightly wobbly, Sabina returned to the interior of the house, a soft coral hue coloring her cheeks.

Hurrying over, Eleanor reached under Sabina’s arm, “Are you alright?” she asked, concerned.

Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, she opened her left hand and let the tiny form of Deacon hang limply, his feet pinned between her thumb and forefinger. “I found this fellow outside creeping about the premises,” she said in a slightly breathless tone.

Glancing over at Sabina’s purse still on the coffee table, Eleanor frowned. “You took him, I mean, how, you didn’t use a stone,” she blurted. How could she? She had heard tales Edith Frost had mastered the feat, but…

“All the remaining members of the inner circle can do it,” Sabina replied, voice a little slurred, her body shuddering slightly.

It was blatantly obvious to Eleanor the aged sister was still caught in the thrall of the swoon from harvesting the boy. “Does he belong to one of our sisters?” she inquired, guiding the older woman back into the sitting room.

Sabina chuckled, “He does now,” she said, lying the tiny naked youth on the fabric next to her. “I need my purse,” she said, leaning forward to pluck the bag off the table. Setting it on her lap, she opened it and removed the wrap containing a Weeping Stone. Cradling it between her hands, she closed her eyes and funneled energy into the stone, making it glow a soft bluish color.

Watching the transfer, Eleanor held her breath, feeling the energy radiating out of the divine object.

A soft cry escaping Sabina’s lips, she rolled to the side, knees up as a wave of pure unadulterated passion slammed into her body for the second time in a matter of minutes, the stone slipping from her fingers and nestling against the back of the upholstered seat and a throw pillow. “Goddess,” she breathed slowly, bracing for another orgasm.

“The boy,” Eleanor stated, looking at the tiny unconscious thing, “he’ll be missed. There will be questions,” she announced.

Grunting, Sabina chuckled again, “Let them come, let them all come. We are so close to the Awakening none of it will matter, sweet goddess I’m going to come again,” she sputtered.

Eleanor had only participated in a harvest as part of a larger group and the Swoon had bowled her over. To take one boy alone, she could only imagine the incredible power of pleasure gripping Sabina.

Almost as if sensing the other woman’s thoughts, “It has been too long since I’ve felt such delicious energy,” Sabina, sighed, a sheen of perspiration breaking out on her skin. “I am in no condition to take myself to the house for the McCready harvest, you will take me,” she instructed.

Regardless of blood bond, as the junior sister, “Certainly,” Eleanor replied.

Pushing herself back into a seated position, the scent of her drooling sex mingling with the floral scent in the room, Sabina let out a long sigh. Swiping a hand over her face, she nodded to Deacon, “Take that as my gift to you for troubles,” she offered.

Biting her lip, Eleanor nodded, “You are very generous Proavia,” she replied, though it did little to quell her concern over the attention his sudden disappearance might bring.

Leaning back on the loveseat, Sabina let out another breath, tacky juices seeping through her panties. “You may be some hours, you might wish to give him to your daughter for safe keeping in your absence,” she suggested.

While there were plenty of containers and jars Eleanor could have used to house the miniaturized boy, she doubted Sersei would bring harm to the boy, particularly after having enjoyed Frost’s grandson and she did not want challenge the older sister. “I am sure she will be delighted to tend to him,” she offered, eyes on Deacon.

Motioning with her hand, “Go,” she urged, nodding.

Nodding back, Eleanor scooped up the boy in her right hand, “I’ll be right back,” she informed before quitting the room.

Grabbing her purse, Sabina set it on the pillow beside her, the weight pulling the pillow forward and allowing the stone to slide down between the pillow and the back of the loveseat. Taking out a silver cigarette container and lighter from the purse, she took out a smoke and put it between her lips before lighting it.

Seeing the bathroom vacant, Eleanor moved down the hall to the spare bedroom and rapped lightly on the door.

“Yes?” came Sersei’s voice.

Opening the door, Eleanor peeked in, “I wasn’t sure if you were finished,” she said, entering the room.

“Just doing my nails,” Sersei replied, wiggling her toes.

Seeing the tiny heart, Eleanor smiled, “Very cute,” she commented. “There has been a little bit of a development,” she added, extending the hand holding Deacon and opening it.

Recognizing the boy, Sersei made a noise, “That’s Deacon. What happened?” she exclaimed.

Deacon? Oliver’s heart plummeted. Was Deacon a son of an Omega who had unwittingly fallen prey to their wiles?

“A gift from Sabina. She needs me to take her to the Omega house and she suggested you might care for him in my absence,” Eleanor shared.

“Is he, I thought we?” Sersei frowned. “He’s not an Omega legacy.”

Eleanor shook her head, “I don’t believe so,” she commented, transferring the tiny cargo into Sersei’s open hand.

Big blue eyes lighting up, “Which means he is a family keeper,” Sersei surmised exuberantly.

Eleanor nodded, “A gift from an elder is no small thing, forgive the pun,” she replied.

Sersei wiggled excitedly, the motion of her body forcing Oliver to lie flat on top of the bed. “This opens the door to some very interesting possibilities,” she stated.

Raising a hand, Eleanor held up her index finger, “Do not break him,” she warned, a small measure of hunger in her tone.

“I won’t,” Sersei replied. “This is almost too perfect.”

Withdrawing from the room, Eleanor paused at the door and smiled. It was good to see Sersei happy given all she had been through recently. Moving back down the hall, she returned to the sitting room, cigarette smoke hanging in the air.

Pushing herself forward, Sabina got up and straightened her skirt.

“Are you ready?” Eleanor inquired, fetching a small glass tray for Sabina to extinguish her cigarette.

Crushing out the smoke, Sabina glanced back and picked up her purse, pausing as a tremble of delight threatened to bloom into something more. “I think so,” she commented, slipping the strap of the purse over her shoulder.

“Just let me get my keys,” Eleanor offered, leading Sabina out of the room.

Hidden beneath the pillow, the Weeping stone pulsed softly, the faint glow not enough to draw the attention of either woman as they exited the room.

The Mother of Invention

Looking at Kent, “Wait here in the van,” Stan instructed, pointing a finger down at the console separating the two seats.

“What are you going to do?” asked the boy.

Stan growled, “I need to grab a few things and make sure Deacon hasn’t gone and done something really stupid,” he answered. “You, wait!”

Kent nodded as Stan vanished from sight only to return a short time later carrying a white plastic bag bearing the Walmart logo.

Climbing into the driver’s side of the van, Stan handed Kent the bag, “You know they charge you for those now, cheap mothers,” he grumbled, turning the van on.

“For a while now,” Kent replied, peeking inside the bag and spotting a bundle of black electrical tape, a small spool of fine gauge coated wire and a handful of red road flares. “What is all this?” he asked, making a face.

Taking the bag from the boy, Stan pulled out eight red colored sticks, a roll of black electrical tape, some of the wire, and a box container a small alarm clock. Within seconds, he had everything taped together to look like something it was not.

“Holy crap, that totally looks like a bomb!” Kent exclaimed with a bit of an impressed chuckle.

Tossing the faux device onto Kent’s lap, Stan grinned, “That was the whole point. It’s supposed to look like a bomb numb nuts,” he replied.

Picking up the homemade thing, Kent hefted it in his hand, “Looks like something Wile E. Coyote would build,” he chortled.

Starting the van, Stan glanced back at the boy, “I’m heading into the vampires’ nest and my back up plan just backed up, so kid I want you to park your ass in the corner of rotten Ronnie’s in Walmart. Whatever you do, do not go anywhere alone with any of those girls or they will turn you into a finger puppet. Get out your phone. If you don’t hear from me within the next two hours, this coyote has fallen prey to them broads. Our code will revolve around good old Wile E. You get me?”

Kent nodded. Pulling out his phone, he exchanged contact info with Stan before exiting the van and putting the fake bomb on the seat.

Watching him go, Stan would have loved to drag the kid along, but the stakes were just way too high. How these women could even do such a thing was beyond him. Finger sized? Sam was right, sounded bloody crazy. Regardless, Oliver needed him and at the end of the day it did not matter how bizarre or outlandish it all seemed. Phone still in hand, he typed the address Deacon had provided into Google and set off.

It did not take too long before he pulled the van in behind Cady’s vehicle. Getting out, he walked to the passenger side of her car and climbed in.

Turning to look at him, “I’m so glad you’re here, I’ve been so worried. I mean, the white haired lady came out after Deacon left and then when I saw her next, it looked like, this might sound weird, but it looked like maybe she had his clothes,” Cady explained, eyes big and round.

Frowning, “His clothes?” Stan asked. Sam’s words came back to his mind, ‘Made him small.’ Is that what happened to Deacon? Jesus. Did they actually shrink him?

Cady nodded, head bobbing, “Then two women came out, the white haired lady and another woman but not Sersei. And there has been no sign of Deacon,” she shared.

Nodding grimly, “No Deacon?” he asked. If he suspended the belief that shrinking was impossible, then it seemed likely the rescue mission was now for Oliver and Deacon.

She shook her head.

“So, as far as you know, it might just be Sersei in the house?” he asked, hopeful. If it was just Sersei and Oliver…

Cady shrugged, “I honestly don’t know,” she answered.

“I’m going in,” he advised, getting out of the car.

“Please, be careful,” she beseeched, eyes pleading.

Stan gave her a wolfish grin, “I’m not the one you should be concerned about,” he assured confidently. After what the grey haired woman did, as long as he did not let one of them touch him, he felt he should be safe.

Tucking the ‘bomb’ inside his jacket, he loped across the street and up the front walk of the house. Approaching the front door, he leaned close to the door and peered through the window. Reaching for the ornate door handle without bothering to look down, he tested it to see if it was locked. The lever clicked and the door opened. “What is this? Canada?” he murmured, pushing the door slowly inward and cocking his head to the side and listening for any sounds. Hearing nothing, he paused at the threshold. Gloves. He should have bought gloves. He was too busy trying to be clever he forgot gloves. Pulling down his sleeve, he wiped the door handle and slipped quietly into the house.

Two Peas in a Pod

Standing back, Oliver tried to keep his face placid, unreadable as he watched Sersei roll Deacon over. There was no mistaking the glint of delight in her eye as she shifted herself to be sitting upright, knees bent, legs parted, and the boys near her feet.

Nudging the unconscious boy with the end of a finger, “Rise and shine little one,” she purred, a cat with a canary.

Groaning, Deacon’s eyes fluttered open, gaze slightly glassy and out of focus.

Moving closer, Oliver knelt down beside his friend, “Relax a moment, you are going to need to adjust,” he said, placing a hand on the other boy’s shoulder.

Recognizing the voice, “Hey, Oliver, hey,” Deacon expressed excitedly before getting a sense of the scale of the environment.

“You need to take a second to understand that some things have happened and that there is something really big afoot,” Oliver said, grinning at his double entendre.

Blinking a few times to clear his vision, Deacon rolled his head from side to side. Mouth opening wide and remaining agape as he beheld Sersei, he stared up between the mammoth legs of giant girl before his eyes dipped to the cleft of her smooth naked sex. “She has no panties on,” he whispered without looking at Oliver.

“Yeah,” Oliver replied.

“She shaves, who is she, this goddess of my dreams?” Deacon asked, putting a hand on Oliver’s arm.

Oliver frowned. She had called him by name, yet he did not know who she was? Looking up at the enormous girl, “How did you know he was Deacon? You called him by his name?” he asked.

Sersei chuckled softly, “Oh my poor Oliver, I knew who he was before Cam was taken and Brooklynn’s description fit to a tee,” she stated, bottom lip extending in an exaggerated pout.

Expression flat, “Awesome,” Oliver murmured without any enthusiasm.

Grinning, “I don’t know if I should be terrified or if I’m in love. Is it weird I have a boner?” Deacon inquired.

Seeing Deacon’s excitement, Sersei smiled, “Hello precious,” she greeted, giving him a small wave.

Forcing himself to look back up at her face, he waved back, “Hi,” he said before rolling his head back to Oliver. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice low, barely above a whisper.

Smiling weakly, “As can be expected given our current situation,” Oliver assured.

“You still haven’t told who she is. Is she your former roommate’s sister?” pressed the other boy.

Nodding at the girl, “Yes this is Cam’s sister, Sersei,” he replied.

“Is this some kind of dream, I must be dreaming, because wow,” Deacon babbled, shaking his head.

Oliver shook his own head.

“We are in fact really small?”

Oliver nodded this time.

Deacon seemed to mull the information over in his head before breaking out into a broad grin, “Have you, uh, you know with um, her?” he asked, flicking a glance toward Sersei.

Pursing his lips, Oliver raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly.

Turning her head slightly to one side, “What are you two little birds talking about?” Sersei asked, licking the corner of her mouth.

Looking up, “Deacon is just taking a moment to come to terms with this brave new world,” explained Oliver, speaking more loudly in order to be heard.

Rolling onto his stomach, Deacon pushed himself up, feet still a little wobbly. “First off, let me just say how truly and incredibly weird this is, no offense because you are an absolute stunner, just beautiful,” he praised.

Sersei smiled at the compliment.

“Maybe you could, I don’t know, maybe you could explain how I’m, we are like this?” Deacon asked, spreading his hands apart.

“I’m sure Oliver will be able to bring you up to speed on the whole situation,” she answered, reclining back against her pillows, sex still on full display.

Oliver felt a stab of jealousy before shaking his head. Maybe it was just the way Deacon seemed to adapt to the preposterousness of the whole situation?

Moving into the indentation on the mattress near her foot, Deacon reached out and touched her flesh.

Almost as if sensing Oliver’s feelings, “Don’t fret Oliver, there is plenty of me to go around,” she assured, eyes sparkling as Deacon moved closer.

“This is so unreal,” Deacon murmured.

“Come closer little darling, see how very real it is,” she invited.

Fascinated by the surreal situation unfolding around him, Deacon moved forward and then paused, closing his eyes, “I can feel the warmth coming off your skin,” he commented, inhaling the fresh scent of bath oils emanating from her soft pale skin.

Continuing closer to the gigantic girl, he neared her sex and let out a whistle. “Wow,” he murmured, tracing his fingers over the textured delicate textured flesh of the left petal surrounding the pink treasure within.

“Mmm,” Sersei noised, the light sensation tickling her senses and re-igniting her ardor.

“It’s so, so incredible,” Deacon marveled.

Lagging behind deacon, Oliver scowled, wanting to say how amazing a great white shark was when viewed from the safety of the shore as compared to when bobbing out on the ocean, but he did not want to seem petty or sabotage his efforts to get her to see him as more than a toy. “She is amazing,” he stated, hoping his tone did not seem disingenuous.

Making a pleasurable noise in her throat, Sersei brought her right hand down over her vulva, fingers deftly parting her lips and opening her flower.

Using both hands, Deacon explored the vibrant pink flesh as it started to dampen. Drawing his hands back, he sniffed at the tacky fluid coating them before sucking the digits of his right hand into his mouth.

From his vantage, Oliver could see Sersei’s level of arousal rising and knew it definitely where this was headed.

Lying back, Sersei relished the wonderful sensation Deacon’s investigation was awakening. In her mind, she wondered whether she might be able to pass Deacon along to her sisters and maybe keep Oliver. At present, the decision could wait because she intended to enjoy her two little party favors together.

Stand Offish

Inside the house, Stan carefully closed the door, the click of the latch sounding thunderous in his ears. Pausing, he craned his head to the side, listening for any indication he might have been detected. Nothing. Moving forward slowly, as stealthily as he could in his shoes, when he passed by the opening leading into the sitting room, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and bristle.

Frowning, he leaned in to get a look at the room. What the hell was prickling him? A soft light glowing from behind a cushion on the couch caught his attention and seemed to be the only thing out of place. Moving quietly to the couch, he pulled the cushion away and looked at the irregularly shaped stone. Reaching his hand over it, the rock did not throw any heat. For some reason he felt almost compelled to take it, to grab it. So weird. Picking it up, generated several different odd sensations all at the same time. First, it felt paradoxically cold and hot, second, there was hum in his ears, annoying and third, a queasy sensation erupted in the pit of his stomach. Instantly he thought of when the gray haired broad who touched him at the Omega house. Stuffing the stone into his pocket, he shook his head and frowned as he stifled the urge to cough. Stupid rock. That tickle did not want to go away as he surveilled the rest of the first floor of the house, collecting a nice big knife from the kitchen in the process.

Moving to the stairs, he slowly crept up, listening. From a room down the hall and on the right, a girl’s voice. Sersei. Grinning wolfishly, he moved quickly to the door, testing the handle to see if was locked. Nope. Opening the door, he shifted the faux bomb into his free hand from under his jacket and stepped into the room.

Unperturbed by the beautiful quasi-naked girl reclining on the bed, “Hey there sweetheart!” he announced, recognizing from the picture Oliver had sent.

Stan’s sudden appearance startled Sersei, making her scream and twist in place, bringing her thighs together and pinning Deacon, “Oh my God!” she exclaimed, eyes big and blue.

Stan sneered. Fuck, she was gorgeous. Levelling the knife at her, he showed her the ‘bomb’, his eyes catching sight of the tiny figure on the bed near her feet. Jesus! It was Oliver, like Sam said, so impossibly little. “Oliver,” he said, surprised unmasked.

The figure moved closer to the edge of the bed.

Stan moved lightning quick, the blade poised to inflict massive trauma if Sersei so much as flinched, “Don’t you move darling, don’t you fucking move!” he warned.

Placing her hands flat on the bed top, she relaxed her legs, freeing Deacon from his fleshy confinement.

“I swear to god if you’ve hurt either of those boys I will fucking end you in the most brutal way you could possibly imagine,” he growled, shoulders swelling as his adrenalin surged through his system.

Oliver glanced up at Sersei and then his stepdad, heart surging, “STAN!”

Face radiating innocence, “You misunderstand, I’m your side,” she offered.

Stan snorted, “Why does that sound like a crock of shit?” he asked, setting the bomb down on the bed. “It’s okay son, I’m here,” he assured, bringing his arm up and coughing into the crook of his elbow.

“Is that a bomb?” she asked, blue eyes big and round.

Blinking a couple of times, Stan felt the edges of his vision begin to blur, “You’re goddamned right it’s a bomb,” he snarled. “Where’s Deacon?” Why could he not stop coughing?

“Please, he’s here, safe” she offered, reaching between her thighs to collect the boy.

Coughing again, Stan blinked, sweat stinging his eyes, “No,” he warned.

Halting her hand, “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Deacon?” called Stan, amazed to see the tiny youth emerge into sight.

“See, safe,” Sersei remarked.

Putting his free hand down on the bed, “Come on boys, let’s get you out of here,” he prompted. Why did his sleeve seem longer?

Both Oliver and Deacon scurried over to Stan’s hand.

A slow smile spread across Sersei’s stunning face, “You don’t look so good,” she commented.

Taking the boys carefully into his hand, there was no denying something was happening. He was getting shorter, smaller. His pants looser, he put Oliver and Deacon in his jacket pocket and grabbed his belt before backing away from the bed.

Glancing at the device on her bed, Sersei swung her legs over the edge, “In fact, you look like you might be a little under the weather,” she said, pushing herself up to her feet, the robe falling open.

The girl was a full foot taller than he was, “You just stay put princess because I don’t want to hurt you,” he growled, brandishing the blade.

“This is something new,” she said, circling to her left, his right.

“Sit the fuck back down!” he ordered.

“No,” she replied.

Whatever was happening to him, it seemed to be picking up speed. Turning, he bolt for the stairs, the legs of his pants giving him some struggle even as he tried to keep belt hiked up.

“I told you, it’s okay, I’m on your side, I can help,” Sersei offered, moving cat quick after him.

Dropping the knife, Stan cradled the precious cargo in his pocket and vaulted down the stairs to the landing. Glancing up, the girl was at the top of the stairs, blue eyes sparkling. God she was fast! Undeterred, Stan leapt down the remaining stairs, hitting the ground running. The effect happening to him and the distortion of distance nearly catapulted him forward but he was able just keep his feet as he raced toward the front door.

He did not bother to look back at the thudding sound as the girl hit the floor behind. The fact the doorknob was now eyeball height told all he needed to know; get out! The motion was fluid, a flick of the wrist, he opened the door and out. He could see Cady’s car.

Whether it was tiny Stan himself, or the mostly naked girl twice his height close on his heels, Cady started the car, shifting it into gear and stepping on the accelerator.

Stan immediately understood what Cady was doing and changed his path, allowing her to drive between them. With the car still rolling, he reached up and opened the passenger door, diving into the foot space in front of the seat.

“Oh my god! What the heck is going on?” Cady hollered.

“Drive!” Stan bellowed.

Hand on hips, Sersei watched as the vehicle sped away, before unleashing a shriek of frustration and rage. Stomping back to the house, at least she got the license plate.

Getaway

Face expressive and filled with alarm, “I just, oh my god, like, this is insane,” exclaimed Cady, attention divided between the spectacle happening in her car and the road.

“Kind of caught me a little off guard too darling,” Stan murmured, reaching into his pocket and pulling out first Deacon then Oliver and setting the boys down on the floor mat near the seat.

“Holy balls!” Cady shouted, eyes huge and round.

Deacon grinned and waved.

Looking at the immense girl behind the wheel, “Who is she?” Oliver questioned.

“Oh, Cady, she’s like, sort of my girlfriend,” he said, voice trailing off as if asking a question rather than making a declarative statement.

Pushing himself forward in the foot compartment, Stan flopped over onto his back, holding his hands up and watching them get smaller and smaller right before his eyes. “Well I’ll be a sumbitch,” he murmured, letting out a breath and chuckling softly.

Bracing himself, “Maybe you should gear down there Cady, I’m sure we don’t want to attract any unnecessary attention from law enforcement,” Deacon advised.

“Where should I go?’ Cady asked, eyes now wild, panic in her voice.

“Your place?” Deacon suggested, looking over at Stan.

“No,” Stan countered, pulling himself free of his clothing, “if Sersei took Cady’s plate number, they’ll know where she lives,” he advised, now less than 12 inches tall.

Brow furled, “Are you okay?” Oliver questioned. “How did she get you?”

Stan grinned, “She didn’t get me, I got you son, so goddamn if I don’t chock this one up in the win column, despite, this uh, little setback which I think has something to do with the glowing rock in my pocket,” he replied.

Oliver could not find the words to convey the relief he felt, though watching his stepdad shrink filled him with an ominous sense of foreboding.

“It was the white haired chick that got me,” Deacon said.

“What?” Stan asked.

“Sabina, out in the yard, she just grabbed me and I woke up at the gates of…,” he trailed off not wanting to offend Cady.

“I think the grey haired woman tried the same shit with me at the Omega house,” Stan said.

“If it’s who I think it is, her name is Edith Frost,” Oliver identified. “Mom’s mother.”

Tone rife with urgency, “I don’t want to be a bother, but am I supposed to go?” Cady asked again, slowing the car and stopping at a red light.

“We need to get Kent, I left him at Walmart so we should probably go there first and get him,” Stan advised, looking back to his heap of clothes around the interior of the vehicle from his newfound and diminished perspective. “My phone is in there somewhere,” he pointed.

Letting out a long breath, “Okay, okay, Walmart, got it,” Cady said, lifting her foot from the brake and moving it to the accelerator.

Eyes lingering on Cady, Deacon turned slowly toward Stan, wide grin on his face, “Here, we’ll give you a hand,” he volunteered.

Together, the trio successfully retrieved Stan’s cell phone out of his pocket, Stan issuing cautions about the glowing stone in his other pocket.

Calling up Kent’s contact, Stan chuckled as he typed, ‘Name the quarry of the guy we spoke about.’

“What’s so funny?” Deacon questioned.

“I feel like a mini Vanna White,” Stan answered, eyes on the screen.

Frowning, Deacon shrugged.

Stepping in, “Who did you speak about?” Oliver asked.

“Wile E. Coyote,” Stan replied.

“Is it Bugs Bunny?” Oliver queried.

Making a face, “No, it’s the roadrunner,” Stan retorted.

“Could be Bugs Bunny though, I remember seeing some of those cartoons where Bugs and the coyote were at odds,” vouched Deacon.

Screwing up his face further, “It’s not Bugs,” he declared.

“But what if Kent answers Bugs, I mean, would you accept that?” Deacon questioned.

“Why not just ask him to identify the coyote,” Oliver inquired, the ghost of a grin appearing on his face.

About to answer, Stan’s face split into a smile, “You two are fucking with me,” he accused, tone jocular.

There was no response from the phone.

“We’re here,” Cady announced, leaning forward in her seat.

“What is it?” Stan asked from below.

“There’s a police car in front, lights flashing,” Cady whispered through her teeth.

Frowning, Stan glanced back to the phone then to Cady, “See if you can’t park somewhere and see what’s going on,” he instructed, eyes darting back to the darkened phone.

Following Stan’s directive, Cady parked in an empty part of the lot. Shutting the vehicle off, she looked down at the trio of tiny men on the floor in the passenger compartment, “I’ll just go and eavesdrop or something,” she explained.

Spreading his hands slightly, “Be careful out there,” Stan cautioned.

Unfastening the seatbelt, Cady got out of the car, closing the door as gently as she could. Strolling across the parking lot, she could see most of the crowd near the police vehicle dispersing. Whatever it was that had happened, apparently, it was over as the lights on the police vehicle stopped flashing and the cruiser began to pull away.

Spying a small gathering of lingering spectators, she ambled in their direction, “Did somebody get robbed?” she inquired.

A fortyish looking woman with glasses and an uptight expression turned to Cady, “Simply deplorable, and in broad daylight no less,” she commented with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

“It was frigging awesome,” chimed in an adolescent male with a laugh, earning him a glower from the woman.

Folded her arms across her chest, “Some young degenerate, probably hopped up on the marijuana accosted two young women in McDonald’s and needed to being restrained by the police,” supplied the woman in an acrimonious tone.

“Two smoking hot lady cops,” sniggered another young male.

“The blonde one could tase me anytime, shit, break out the handcuffs,” replied the first youth, mimicking a crackling electricity sound.

Face puckering, the woman of middle years made a noise of disdain and removed herself from the crowd.

“Did anybody catch a name or anything?” Cady asked.

The second youth shrugged his shoulders, “Sorry lady,” he said, shaking his head.

“What about the women who were assaulted?” she asked.

The first youth grinned and pulled out his cell phone, bringing up a picture of two college aged women from behind, one dark haired, the other light. Showing it to Cady, “Dimes,” he chortled.

Looking at the snapshot, Cady frowned. The darker haired women in the photo had her head turned slightly to the side. Cady recognized her. Maeve, one of the Omega Pi girls who frequented Cup of Joe’s.

Where to from here?

“You think maybe she should have left a window cracked or something?” Deacon asked, looking up at the windows in the doors.

Oliver frowned, “I think we’ll be alright. I think the more important question is whether or not we can trust that girl,” he added.

Stan shook his head, “Seeing as we are sitting here on the floorboard of her car, we are pooched if we can’t trust her so no sense worrying,” he stated.

“So what do we do?” Deacon asked.

“Sam,” Stan answered.

“Mom?” Oliver queried.

Stan nodded.

Oliver frowned thinking about his mother, the sting of betrayal like acid in the back of his throat.

Looking from Oliver to Stan, “Can we like, trust her, I mean, no disrespect but, you kind of said she was in on this,” Deacon offered.

Turning to face Oliver directly, Stan put his hands on the boys shoulders, “I can only imagine the shit you’ve been through, and as pissed as I am, I think we are going to have to trust her if we ever hope to get this undone. I can’t say I understand her motives or plan, but she says there are other chicks within their sorority that are actively working behind the scenes to undo this stuff,” he shared.

A rueful smile appearing on Oliver’s face, “I wish I could believe that, but it seems everything in my life has been a lie,” he countered.

Stan grinned, “Not me pal, I’m right here in it with you and I love you son, that’s no lie,” he declared. “I’d hug you, but we’re both naked and that would be weird.”

Oliver chuckled, “Yup.”

Releasing Oliver, Stan moved back to the phone, this time drawing up Sam’s contact, typing, ‘I have Oliver but there is a little problem. Let me know when you land.’ He hit send.

Having read the message, “Is she flying?” Deacon asked.

“Back from Vancouver eh,” Stan replied, employing his best Canadian accent.

Cady reappeared at the car. Opening the door, she climbed in and closed the door. Leaning over the console separating the seats, she disclosed all she had been able to gather about the situation.

“How would they know where to find him? I told him to keep a low profile, shit,” Stan grumbled.

“Probably just tracked his phone,” Cady suggested.

“The cops?” Stan frowned.

“No, there is an app, it’s pretty easy, like GPS,” she answered.

Oliver nodded. “The girls would have had plenty of time to monkey around with his phone when he was out,” he offered.

The lines on Stan’s face deepened as he looked back to his phone. If the women from the sorority possessed the ability to track him through his phone, undoubtedly they would have already done so by now. “I shouldn’t’ve left him by himself,” he lamented.

“Pretty brazen for them to take him down in broad daylight in a public place,” Deacon offered. “What if someone took a video of it, you know, that’s the kind of stuff that totally goes viral?”

“Ballsy alright, but they control the cops and there is an absolute shit ton of money at risk here. While I doubt those greedy hens were going to let Kent slip through their fingers, I don’t see them exposing themselves recklessly on the internet,” he opined, a half smile on his face.

Oliver nodded, “You had better believe Sersei isn’t going to sit idly on her hands either. If the Omegas control the police, we have to assume she passed along a description of this car, including the license plate, meaning we are extremely vulnerable,” he added.

Stan nodded, “Given our current situation, I don’t think there is whole lot we can do to liberate Kent,” he said regretfully.

The phone buzzed, startling all the occupants of the car.

Seeing the ID, “It’s Sam,” Stan stated.

Using both hands, he swiped them across the screen and tapped the message icon.

Just touched down and got your message. Are you both okay??? Please baby let me know, read her message.

Fine, but the sooner you can get down here the better, he replied.

On my way, I love you both so much, she returned.

“Okay, so what now?” Oliver questioned.

“We could go back to the dorm room, probably the last place they would think to look,” Deacon suggested, eyes glued to Cady.

Watching the screen go black, “I don’t like it, tempting fate, but we certainly can’t just keep driving around,” mused Stan.

“We could go to my friend Larissa’s place,” Cady suggested. “I could park the car in her back yard, out of sight. No one would ever to think to look there and she’s cool.”

Pursing his mouth, Stan nodded grimly, “I don’t like the idea of involving more people but we are rapidly running out of options,” he acknowledged. “Do it.”

Nodding, Cady started the car and put it into gear.

Looking from Deacon to Cady, Oliver scowled. “You’ve got a love struck look in your eyes,” he stated.

Eyes locked on the enormous girl, “You have no idea how incredibly intrigued I am right now,” Deacon conceded unabashedly.

“I saw how you responded to Sersei,” Oliver supplied, vacillating between keeping quiet and illuminating the other boy to the reality of his experience at the hands of the libidinous girls of Omega Pi.

Turning to his friend, “I dunno, I mean, is it weird, I think I want to, you know,” he started, eyes widening before crimson colored his face.

Oliver shrugged noncommittally. After seeing what Melody did to Bear, Brooklynn and Cerys to Cam, Sersei to him, what could he say to warn his friend? “Might seem fun in theory, but,” he stated, shrugging his shoulders and raising his brows.

Deacon grinned.

Walking over, “What are you two knobs on about?” Stan asked, looking from boy to boy. “Oh.”

Spreading his hands, “Just thinking of possibilities,” Deacon inserted.

Chuckling, Stan glanced at Cady then back to Deacon before shaking his head, “Jesus Christ, to be twenty again and insane for pussy. That thing probably chew you up and spit you out,” he quipped.

Oliver nodded slowly, “Like Kobayashi,” he remarked.

The boy’s response put a smile on Stan’s face. Given all the kid had been through, to be able to joke in face of this absurdity reassured him Oliver was okay upstairs.

“We’re almost there,” Cady said without bothering to look down.

“Good,” Stan replied.

Pulling to a stop, Cady put the car in park and turned off the ignition. Looking down on her three tiny passengers, “I’m not quite sure how this is supposed to work,” she said.

Stan frowned, “Purse I guess and we are definitely going to need that stupid rock but whatever you do DON’T touch it with your bare hand. It might be the only leverage we have to try and get Kent back,” he instructed.

“Should I text her that we’re here? I don’t even know if she is home,” Cady offered.

Looking at the boys, “No, let’s just call this whole thing a little surprise,” Stan answered.

The Friend Zone

After carefully placing each of the shrunken men inside her purse, Cady used Stan’s shirt to retrieve the glowing rock from his pants pocket, setting it in a different compartment. She also took his phone.

“I’m going to lift it up now, you might want to brace yourself,” Cady warned, moving slowly and deliberately to avoid jostling her tiny passengers as she left the car and approached the small older style house. Mounting the few stairs leading into the back porch, she reached out and rapped on the door.

Larissa’s comely face appeared in the back door window, blonde hair with darker roots pulled back, luminous honey colored eyes inquisitive. Opening the door, “What’s up girlfriend, why did you come in the back way?” she asked, broad smile on her face fading as she recognized distress in Cady’s expression.

“I, it’s complicated, but I, we need a place to sort of lie low,” Cady said in a low voice, eyes downcast.

Lips pursing, Larissa’s eyes narrowed as she stepped back into the house, “Sure, come in. We?” she questioned, looking passed the other girl.

Stepping through the door, “Like I said, it is extremely complicated,” Cady replied, shifting out of the way to allow Larissa to close the door.

Moving into the kitchen area, “You’re making me worry, like did you hit somebody with your car or something? And we, who is we?” Larissa queried, becoming concerned.

Setting her purse on the kitchen table, Cady held up her hands, “I know how crazy what I’m about to show you is, but I need you to promise me you won’t freak out,” she demanded.

Growing more alarmed, “Freak out? You’re freaking me right now,” Larissa replied.

“Promise me,” Cady repeated.

Larissa nodded vigorously, hair bobbing, “Of course,” she avowed.

“You remember that boy I told you about?”

“Yes, Deacon,” replied the mostly blonde-haired girl.

“There has been an accident sort of, well,” she reached down and opened her purse. Putting her hand in, she collected Deacon, setting him on the table.

Seeing the tiny figure, Larissa chuckled and shook her head.

Deacon waved.

“Holy shit balls!” exclaimed the blonde, taking a step back from the table.

“That’s Deacon. Wait,” Cady counseled, extracting the other two tiny men and placing them next to Deacon. “This is Stan and Oliver. This is my friend, Larissa,” she introduced.

Completely gobsmacked, “Oh my god, they’re so small. And naked. Why are you all naked?” Larissa babbled, head shaking in disbelief.

Stepping forward, “Because Itty Bitty Baby Gap was closed,” Stan replied with a sly half grin.

Hands on faded blue jean covered thighs, Larissa leaned in closer to get a better look, “This is so messed,” she declared, borderline laughing.

“Sweetheart, I can see how this has probably caught you a little off guard, but for a moment, wrap your pretty skull around how it must seem from this side of the equation,” prompted Stan.

“Like how, how could something like have even happened?” Larissa questioned.

“It’s complicated,” Cady interjected, fishing the shirt-covered rock out of her purse.

“I guess,” Larissa commented.

Putting the Weeping Stone on the table away from the trio of men, “The people who did this to them are looking for them and the stone which is why we need a place to lie low. I am so sorry to spring this on you out of the blue, but we are out of options,” Cady informed.

“Cops, can’t you go to the cops?” Larissa inquired.

Cady shook her head. “Some of them are in on it and there is no guarantee how deep this whole thing goes,” she countered.

Getting even closer, “At this size, you are all so cute,” Larissa murmured, reaching up with her right hand, index finger extended.

Sensing a subtle change in the air, “I think you really need to put that stone somewhere else,” Oliver suggested, “there’s no telling what kind of influence it might be emanating,” he added, flicking a warning glance at Stan.

Also sensing a shift in the girls’ body language, Stan nodded back to Oliver, “Like maybe back out in the car or something,” he suggested.

Cady nodded, using the shirt to pick the stone up and put it back in her purse. “I’ll be right back,” she stated.

Larissa moved her finger closer, touching Oliver lightly on the chest then withdrawing her hand.

“Just like a real boy,” Oliver said cordially.

Looking at her hand, Larissa rubbed her thumb over her forefinger, “So weird,” she murmured.

“Hey, maybe you got some grub up in here somewhere, a cookie maybe, something?” Stan inquired.

Shifting her eyes to Stan, Larissa smiled, “Sure, I’ll see what I can find,” she offered, moving over to the cupboards above the counter.

Motioning the boys closer, “What’s going on?” Stan queried.

Deacon shrugged.

“It’s the stone. Its energy interacts differently with women, triggering a release of hormones or something,” Oliver shared.

Stan scowled, “Goddamn magic bloody rock.”

Employing an Austin Powers’ type accent, “Wait, what, like does it make them horny baby?” Deacon asked, mischievous grin splaying his face.

“I appreciate you find the idea exhilarating, but we really need to be careful,” Oliver explained, raising his eyebrows to emphasize his point.

“It should only be a few hours before Sam can get down here, I’m sure we can fight them off if need be,” Stan chuckled, eyes wandering over to Larissa’s denim clad posterior.

Frowning, Oliver shook his head. “It takes our essence, our energy and I believe it makes us more pliable, malleable to the stone’s influence,” he shared.

“Aha!” shouted Larissa triumphantly, returning to the table with a foil wrapped chocolate chip granola bar. Peeling the packaging open, she set the bar down on the table.

Cady returned, grinning. “I slid it under the car seat,” she shared, walking back over to the table.

Inspecting the bar, Oliver struggled to break off a piece.

Reaching in, “Here, let me,” Larissa offered.

Moving to the edge of the table, Deacon gestured for Cady to get low. “Do you think maybe we might be able to talk somewhere, privately?” he asked.

Nodding, “Sure, I guess,” she replied, lowering her hand to the table, palm up to receive him.

Seeing what was happening, “What are you doing?” Oliver asked.

Climbing into Cady’s hand, “Just talking,” Deacon assured, winking.

Putting a hand on Oliver’s shoulder, “Let him be, we may not have been through what you have, but this is still very new for him and me,” Stan advised before nodding to Deacon.

Letting out a breath, Oliver turned his attention to the bar, broken into more manageable-sized bits by Larissa.

Smiling at Cady, “I’ll watch over these two,” Larissa assured.

Flirting with Danger

Carrying Deacon close to her chest as she exited the kitchen, “When you didn’t come back to the car, I was so worried,” Cady shared, her expression of concern mirroring her words.

“It was so strange, the feeling when that woman zapped me or whatever it was she did to me,” he replied, fingers slowly tracing over the smooth material of her shirt over her left breast.

Feeling the delicate sensation, “What are you doing?” she asked, uncertain smile on her face.

Grinning up at her, “Everything feels so much different somehow, I don’t know, the texture, sounds, almost alien,” he answered.

Curling up in the wide chair in the corner of the living room, she set him down on the broad upholstered armrest. “It must be so scary,” she commented, shaking her head.

Deacon shrugged, “Some I guess but I’m with you so I don’t feel afraid,” he replied, moving to the edge of the armrest, evaluating the distance to her leg.

Getting the gist of his intent, “Are you planning on jumping? Wait, here,” she offered, putting her hand down to ferry him to her lap.

Crossing over onto her, Deacon closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose, “You smell amazing,” he praised, letting out the breath.

“I do shower on occasion,” she jested with a bit of grin.

Given her body posture in the oversized chair, Deacon was able to walk up her thigh and side, settling in a seated position on her chest. “You have absolutely no idea how beautiful you are to me right now. You were very attractive when I first saw you, but seeing you like this, from this perspective, you are like an absolute goddess, wow,” he confessed.

Absently swirling a strand of loose hair with her right hand, “No,” she denied, face coloring slightly.

Getting to his feet, he stepped into the open collar of her shirt and moved closer to her face, tiny hands reaching up and tracing the soft tissue of her lower lip, “Yes,” he assured.

Inclining her head, Cady parted her lips slightly, exhaling slowly, eyes on Deacon.

Leaning forward, Deacon pressed his lips firmly against her on the lower lip before casting his eyes back toward her chest.

“What?” she murmured, running the tip of her tongue over the spot she had just been kissed.

Angling his head back toward her, he gave her a sly grin.

“There is definitely mischief in those eyes,” she commented.

“Maybe,” he replied playfully, slowly moving over her breastbone to the opening of her shirt. Crouching down, he fumbled with the hubcap-sized plastic button, pushing it through the buttonhole.

Left eyebrow raising, “Deacon,” she drawled.

Innocent look on his face, “What?” he protested, pushing back the material of her shirt, revealing the smooth alabaster slope of her right breast. Bending down but not breaking eye contact, he kissed her soft skin.

Eyebrows arching, “You are bad,” she accused.

Nodding slowly, he turned back to her breast, placing his hands palm down and plowing the fabric back and away until he found the edge of her bra. Under his fingers, he could feel the swell and bumps of the Montgomery gland in the aureole surrounding her right nipple.

Pulling her lower lip back into her mouth, Cady felt conflicted. Watching him, she felt incredibly aroused and wanted to see where this little adventure took them, but she worried about him, scared she might inadvertently hurt him. She could see his obvious excitement too. Stop, or keep going? Why did she feel so incredibly turned on?

Fighting with the bra, he encircled the stiffening nipple, kneading the tightening flesh with his fingers.

Glancing back toward the kitchen where Larissa and the others were, “We should stop,” she breathed, silently hoping he would ignore her protest.

Making eye contact, he slowly moved his head back and forth in negation, caressing the delicate flesh.

Feeling herself starting to moisten between the thighs, she wondered again, why it was she so horny. Reaching over him, she slid her fingers into the cup of the bra, pushing it back, granting him unfettered access to the breast.

Repositioning his little body, Deacon made sure to hold eye contact with her as he teased the swollen flesh, a smile appearing on his face as she sucked her bottom lip in her mouth and made a small sound of pleasure before shaking her head slightly, “This is so insane, but,” she paused,

“But what?” Deacon inquired innocently, kneading the hardened nipple trapped between his hands.

“What is Larissa comes in, I mean, how would it seem, I, we are still only just getting to know each other,” she replied.

“If she comes in, she comes in,” he countered. “I have never felt this way before, with anyone, ever.”

Smiling, “Me either, it’s just,” she paused, “non-traditional to say the least.”

Deacon chuckled, “I’ll say. All you have to do is ask yourself one question. How do you feel right now? Once Oliver’s mom arrives, there is no way of knowing what’s going to happen, but right here, right now, we are together in a situation that is bigger than ourselves, or at least me. I want to be with you in a way no other person ever has or is likely to again,” he declared.

Cady could feel his impassioned words swaying her, pushing her in the direction he wanted to go. It was remarkable and exciting. Letting out a breath, she brought her hand up and cupped it over him, pressing him securely against her breast. “Not here,” she murmured, getting to her feet and heading toward the small vacant room Larissa and her housemates used as a spare room. Stepping through the door, she closed it, pressing the knob in to engage the lock. Taking only a couple of steps to cross the room, she sat on the bed. Still cradling Deacon to her bosom, she leaned over and turned on the only lamp on the room’s one nightstand.

Easing her hand back carefully, “Are you okay?” she asked.

Rubbing his face, Deacon nodded before taking stock of the room. Looking back up at her, “I’m okay now,” he replied.

“I don’t know how this is supposed to work, or even, it’s just all very different,” breathed Cady, shaking her head slightly.

“Just kiss me gorgeous and let’s see where this takes us,” he invited, puckering his lips.

Two Birds, No Stone

Kent awoke, a dull throbbing ache taking root in the base of his skull. Everything sounded muted and for some reason his teeth hurt. He was lying on his side. Against his right cheek, the sensation of denim, while soft delicate caresses touched his left. Little by little, it felt like his brain rebooted itself. All except for his hands, which were behind his back and felt like they were asleep.

From somewhere unseen, “Not only is it irresponsible, it is just stupid!” growled a woman’s voice

“You’ve got your little prize pig,” snapped another woman.

“Money? Do you honestly think this is about the money? You’re an imbecile Sabina. We are this close!” retorted the first woman.

“We’re this close, this close,” quipped the woman Kent presumed was Sabina, her tone mocking. “You’ve been singing that song for the past half century Edith, please.”

Forcing his eyes open, Kent squinted against the light stabbing into his brain. After a moment, he recognized where he was, lying on a couch in the sitting room in the Omega Pi house, head in somebody’s lap. Elisha sat in the chesterfield across from him, a concerned expression on her flawless face.

“If what Sersei says is true, you’re childish impulsivity has not only enhanced our risk of exposure, but worse, cost us a weeping stone,” Edith snarled.

“If Sersei is to be believed, then the agent of our misfortune is one directly tied to you daughter, this Stan, so before you start casting aspersions on my decision to indulge, maybe you need to get your own house in order,” Sabina countered angrily.

Shifting his weight, Kent tried bring his arms forward but could not.

Ceasing the motion of her fingers across his face, “He’s awake,” murmured Maeve in a hushed tone.

“Is this,” Kent started, but Maeve covered his mouth with a firm hand.

“You need to be quiet,” she cautioned.

Closing his eyes again, Kent tried to clear the fog from his brain. He was at the mall, Maeve and Elisha were there, pleasant at first, inviting him to join them. When he refused, their demeanor became demanding. Things spiraled out of control in a hurry as Maeve accused him of grabbing her breasts. He had no idea where the two female police officers came from, but they started herding people out of the food court. With everything Stan had told him, he had no doubt the cops were somehow connected to the sorority. Then electricity hit him, shorting out his entire nervous system in a white flash. Someone must have witnessed it, saw it?

Rolling his head to the side, he tried to look up at Maeve then back to Elisha.

Frowning, lines creasing her face, “Be still,” she hissed.

“We stand upon the verge of The Awakening and you stand there like a vapid cow,” Edith growled.

“You’ve been peddling that line for over a century, the goddess will awaken soon, a new age is dawning. You might have all of these little dimwitted twats drinking the Koolaid, but enough already, if there is a goddess she is down for the count and all we are is the residue of whatever it is she was,” Sabina snapped back.

“You truly have no understanding of the magnitude of your stupidity,” Edith chuckled. “You will be held accountable.”

Laughing, “Ooh, I’m trembling,” replied Sabina. “My only regret is that I didn’t get an opportunity to proper address the ache between my thighs.”

There was an audible smack, a hand striking flesh.

Kent tried to move again, but Maeve held him firm.

Sabina laughed anew, “Use Vesper’s stone on the young stud, I really don’t care,” she said, followed by the sound of a door slamming and footsteps receding.

Edith appeared in the portal to the sitting room, a fierce look on her face, “We need to get him prepared,” she directed.

“Wait,” Kent croaked, grimacing at the ache in his jaw.

Edith angled her head to the side, a manufactured emotionless smile on her face, “Something?” she inquired.

“You don’t have to do this,” he assured.

Rolling her eyes, “But I do,” she replied before pausing. “Unless.”

Grasping at straws, “Unless what?” he questioned hopefully.

Crossing the room, she stepped between the coffee table and the chesterfield, placing her hand on Kent’s face and caressing it gently, “You can tell me where Stan might have gone with my purloined stone,” she propositioned.

“But,” Maeve countered, panic tinging her voice before the look on Edith’s face silenced her tongue.

“I,” Kent started then stopped. He had no clue. The plan had gone awry.

Sitting at the edge of the table, Edith smiled, a predatory glint in her eyes, “Tell me what you know,’ she invited.

Even if he did not know where Stan had gone, he did know things, things like the phone call Stan had with the woman he called Sam, things like Deacon and Cady. “I don’t know,” he answered. There was no way he would betray Stan.

Edith’s smile widened, “I’m sure there is something you call tell me,” she suggested.

Whether remnants from the electrical jolt to his brain, the odd tone of her voice, the tingling sensation of her hand on his face, “I, I,” he wanted to please her, tell her everything.

“It’s okay,” she cooed softly.

A strange sensation settled over him, through him. He felt his eyes beginning to well with tears, “I can’t,” he replied, his protest feeble.

Leaning forward, “Of course you can,” she assured tone dulcet and bewitching.

“No,” he mumbled but he could hear the words coming out of his mouth. No matter how hard he tried not to say anything incriminating, he could not help himself, the words rolled off his tongue. All of it.

The smile on Edith’s mouth did not match the ferocity lingering in her eyes. “There now, good boy,” she applauded, patting the boy lightly on the cheek. “Sleep now,” she soothed.

Lids feeling leaden, Kent tried to resist because he knew his very life depended on it, but he could not. Eyes closing, he succumbed to slumber.

Smile evaporating, Edith looked first to Maeve then Elisha, “See that he is made ready for the harvest tonight,” she instructed before rising to her feet.

“Yes sister,” the girls replied in union.

Edith tarried a moment before exiting the room.

Meanwhile, Elsewhere

Taking a seat in a wooden chair at the table, Larissa put her elbows on the tabletop and propped up her pretty head, “So what is it like?” she asked, her unusual amber colored eyes glinting with curiosity.

Looking up at the face of the attractive girl looming over them, “What? Being small?” Stan queried back.

Broad grin splayed on her face, she nodded. “I just can’t believe it.”

Spreading his arms, Stan chuckled, “Believe it.”

Pushing herself up quickly, the sudden motion jarring the table and knocking the two men off their feet, “I have to get a picture!” Larissa exclaimed, eyes exploring the long counter for her cell phone before snapping her head back to Stan and Oliver at the movement of the table. “Omigod, I’m so sorry,” she emphatically apologized, hands raised.

“No harm no foul,” Stan replied, climbing back to his feet.

“I really don’t think that would be wise,” Oliver commented, shaking his head and pursing his mouth.

“No, it’ll be okay,” Larissa assured, bounding across the kitchen to collect her phone. “It’s a Huawei, awesome camera,” she provided, opening the camera app as she strolled back to the table.

Raising a hand, “I’m kind of with Oliver here,” Stan added.

Aiming the phone, Larissa snapped off a couple of pictures. “So cool,” she murmured, sitting back down and examining her first picture, enlarging the image. Looking at Oliver, she grinned. “You are very hot, tiny, but hot,” she complimented.

Oliver politely nodded before glancing at Stan.

Glancing up at the immense girl, Stan smiled, “So what’s your story there big sexy?” he inquired.

Larissa frowned. “I need something for size context,” she stated. Suddenly she brightened, “I got it, salt and pepper shakers!”

Getting back to her feet, more careful this time, she fetched a set of shakers from the counter and brought them back to the table, setting them down near the two diminished men. “There,” she commented with an affirmative nod. Raising her phone back up, she took a few more picture, this time capturing Oliver and Stan with the two glass shakers. “This is perfect,” she gushed.

“Larissa, hey,” Stan said, giving her a wave.

Setting her phone down, she smiled at Stan, “Sorry, but this kind of thing doesn’t happen every day,” she apologized.

Giving her a side smirk, “Yeah, kind of a weird day for us too you know,” he replied, jerking a thumb in Oliver’s direction.

Larissa nodded, “Aren’t you cold, I mean, being naked and all?” she inquired.

Looking down at himself, Stan shook his head, “You would think I should feel cold but I don’t,” he answered.

Walking over and gathering another piece of the crumbled granola bar, “I think part of the shrinking process has enervated our metabolic processes,” Oliver suggested, taking a bite.

“I still don’t understand how something like this can even happen?” Larissa questioned.

“Like Cady said, it’s a complicated situation, and we really don’t want to put you in any more danger than we already have,” Oliver cautioned.

Larissa nodded.

Turning to Stan, Oliver moved close, “Just touching the stone did this to you?” he asked.

Stan nodded, “Yeah,” he answered.

“Then why the ritual? Why the wristbands? Why go through all the trouble?” Oliver questioned.

Pausing a moment, Stan frowned before shaking his head, “I don’t know. All I know is I touched the rock and presto change-o, mini Stan,” he replied.

Letting out a breath, Oliver shook his head, “Why didn’t the stone seem to affect Cady? I mean other than you know?”

“Maybe it only works on guys, I don’t know. As I said to our lovely host here, this is all still pretty new to me son. Your mother should be here in a while and maybe she could shed some light on this whole thing,” Stan countered.

Oliver looked up at Larissa, “Sorry, we didn’t mean to exclude you, but there’s still a whole we don’t know about this either,” he offered.

“No, it’s okay, this is fascinating,” she assured, placing her hands palm down on the table.

Strolling closer to the gigantic hand, Stan reached out and stroked the back of her right index finger below the nail, “We really appreciate your help here,” he stated.

A dusting of coral appeared on Larissa’s pale cheeks, “I’m super glad to help,” she answered.

To Oliver, even in the absence of the stone, it appeared his dad’s presence had the ability to influence the girl in a physical way, “Stan,” he called out.

Grazing the tips of his fingers over her skin, “Can you even feel that?” he asked.

Sucking her lower lip into her mouth, Larissa nodded.

“Stan,” repeated Oliver.

Still caressing the finger, Stan looked back at his son, “Relax, we’ve still got a few hours to kill before your mother gets here and there is no harm in expressing my gratitude to this young lady who has so generously put herself in peril for our sake.” He meant what he said, but under it, there was something, an urge maybe, something. Shit was she gorgeous.

“Speaking of mom,” Oliver interjected.

Supinating her left hand, Larissa brought it near Stan, gently brushing her left index finger down his side and over his thigh.

“I think maybe you should take a few steps back,” Oliver encouraged.

Stan chuckled. “She’s on our side pal,” he started, turning his eyes back on the girl. “Right? You don’t want to hurt us?”

Releasing her lip, “No,” she replied, luminous eyes filled with innocence.

Looking back to Oliver, “See,” Stan clarified.

Walking over, Oliver looked up to Larissa, “Give us a moment will you?” he asked, giving a pragmatic smile.

Bottom lip jutting out slightly, “Okay,” she breathed before flashing Stan a toothy smile and pushing herself up to her feet. Collecting her phone she retreated to the counter.

Gripping Stan by the shoulder, Oliver turned to face him, “Are you kidding me right now?” he challenged.

Eyes tracking Larissa’s ass as she departed, “What? I think she’s a sweet girl,” Stan retorted, indignant expression on his face.

“You get any closer to her and you’ll certainly get to taste,” he warned.

At first, Stan grinned and arched an eyebrow, contemplating the notion before his expression abruptly changed. “Whoa, wait, what?”

Shaking his head slightly, “I don’t know if it’s pheromones or what but you were macking hard on that girl,” Oliver supplied.

Stan let out a slow breath, “But the rock is out in the car.”

“After they did this to me, the women went into a trancelike state they called a swoon. I thought it was because of what they did to me, but honestly, I don’t know. What it is, this thing seems to have some unusual side effects. I never experienced this thing you’re going through but I think maybe fear might have over overpowered the compulsion to get all up close and personal,” he explained, shrugging his shoulders.

Stan glanced over at Larissa, “Christ, I hope Sam gets here soon.”

Deacon and Cady Getting Close

Keeping Deacon in her palm, she brought her hand close to her face, eyes lidded, lips puckered.

Shifting his body, Deacon got on his knees, bracing himself against the pillowy softness of her lower lip. Leaning close, he kissed her delicately.

Lowering her hand back from her face, she wrinkled her nose, “Tickles kind of,” she said with a partial giggle.

Using a francophone accent, “A French tickler?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

Not getting the obscure Monty Python Meaning of Life reference, she cocked her head to the side, “Are you French?”

Grinning up the massive beauty above him, he shook his head slowly and used his hands to beckon her close again before bracing himself as she complied. At her mouth, he traced his finger along the vermillion border of her upper lip until she smiled and her lips parted. Her teeth appeared massive before him, clean and shiny white.

“You don’t want to make me sneeze do you?” she warned.

Imagining it, “Definitely not,” he replied, pecking his lips against her bottom lip again as she exhaled softly.

“I’m not sure exactly how you want to, or what you,” she murmured.

“I want to explore you, adore you,” Deacon replied, giving her a wink.

Sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, she set him carefully down on the bed beside her before bringing her hands up and unbuttoning her blouse. Removing it, she put it the side opposite deacon. Reaching both hands behind her back, she unfastened her bra, covering her breasts with her right arm while tossing the brassiere to the side with her left hand.

“Wow,” Deacon complimented.

“Sorry?” Cady replied, a dusting of color in her cheeks.

Grinning, “I said wow, you are unbelievably gorgeous,” he assured, voice raised to ensure she heard him.

Slowly she lowered her arm, eyes downcast, almost diffident. Rising slowly from the bed, she unfasted the button on her jeans, shimmying her hips to help lower the faded pair of denim pants. Stepping out of the pants, she turned to face him directly, hands clasped in front of her hiding the slightly darker moistened spot at the front of her powder blue colored panties. After everything that they had all been through, was it so wrong that she was aroused?

Deacon whistled in genuine appreciation. “A goddess,” he proclaimed, offering her a slight bow.

Smiling, “Stop,” she protested.

“Come on,” he urged, waving an arm. “On your back.”

Cady hesitated, “I haven’t shaved my legs in a couple of days,” she confessed.

Chuckling, “It’s okay,” he reassured.

Not removing her panties, she cautiously climbed over him at the speed of sloth and up onto the bed, settling in and reclining on her back, hands down by her sides.

For his part, Deacon watched her as she moved. On some level, he knew he should be concerned about his predicament. Not here with Cady, but in general. He was so tiny. Instead of being distraught, he was exhilarated. Even seeing the colossal Sersei naked, something about it ignited fire in him. Moving closer to her, he scaled atop the back of her hand and sauntered up her forearm.

Cady giggled, “OMG, no offense but it feels like a spider is on me and my instinct is to swipe it away,” she added with a slight shimmy.

Traversing up the medial side of her left biceps, he crossed over onto her chest and up the swell of the slope of her left breast, sitting cross-legged around her erect nipple, fingers stroking the subtle bumps in the aureole. “You feel warm,” he murmured, aware of the deep rhythmic beat of her heart buried beneath him.

Shifting her hands across her stomach, placing right over left, “I like that,” she said softly.

With delicate fingers, he kneaded her taut nipple, delighting in small sounds of pleasure he was extracting from her.

Luxuriating in the wondrous sensations catching fire in her body, “Mmm,” she cooed softly.

Glancing down the length of her body, Deacon rose to a semi-standing position. He yearned to explore her more intimately. Descending her breast to her sternum, he scampered over hands and down her stomach toward the prominence of her fabric-shrouded mons. Getting closer, he could detect the scent of her excitement, heady, intoxicating.

Lifting her head to look at him, “Deacon,” she said haltingly.

Raising a reassuring hand back to her, “It’s alright,” he replied crossing onto her white cotton panties, pristine save for the dampened spot covering her sex.

“I,” she started, and then paused, legs parting slightly.

Getting to his hands and knees, he danced his finger over the moist contours hidden by the material. “So incredibly hot,” he mumbled, more to himself than to her. Raising slick fingers before his face, he touched them to his lips, tasting the pure essence her desire. Looking back up to her face, “Wow,” he extolled.

Returning the smile, she lifted her hands, but uncertain what to do, placed them down at her sides.

Moving back toward her tummy and off the panties, Deacon slid his hands beneath the elasticated waistband.

Seeing what he was trying to accomplish, “Hold on,” Cady advised, lifting her butt upward off the bed and slipping her thumbs into the panties, pushing them down onto her thighs. Lower her bottom, she elevated her knees slightly and tried to push her panties down further, careful not to move so much as to dislodge her tiny passenger.

Deacon suspected she kept her situation shorn, but judging from the lesser stubble it might have been a few days since she tended to her garden. Not that it mattered, gazing down upon the breadth of her femininity he was in awe, rapt. Suddenly the word of his ex-girlfriend popped into his head, “Everything important is near the top.” Setting in astride the hood cloaking the nerve plexus of her clitoris, he smoothed his hands over the delicate covering and drew it back.

Suppressing a groan, Cady tried to arch against the gentle pressure applied to her clit, the sensation so wonderfully delicious she curled her fingers into blankets.

Marveling at the response such small simple gestures evoked from the massive girl beneath him, Deacon captured nub of tightened flesh, kneading it between his hands, massaging it. Not only did Cady begin to tremble slightly, he could actually feel the rising swell of warmth emanating from her pussy in response to his manipulations.

Almost breathless, “Deacon,” Cady moaned, raising her right hand and bringing the tips of her fingers carefully over him, pressing him down onto his stomach, his head toward her feet. Her excited condition providing lubricant, she moved her hand in a counter clockwise direction while sloughing off her panties entirely.

Though firm, the pressure was not overbearing so Deacon allowed himself to relax, surrendering to her as she moved him over the expanse of her sex. The pliant rubbery flesh rolled beneath him as she artfully pleasured herself using his body.

Sucking in a big breathe, Cady knew she was on the verge of climax, muscles twitching in anticipation of a powerful release.

Deacon could feel it too, the pressure of a volcano on the verge of eruption. Squirming under her faltering fingers, he twisted and tried to aim himself nearer the opening of her vagina. He wanted to be in her, to experience her as she came.

Urgency supplanting caution, Cady parted her legs wide and tilted her pelvis, using her index finger between his shoulder blades and guiding him directly inside of her dewy sleek tunnel as it greedily opened. “Oh Deacon,” she mewled, passing the point of no return but denying herself the blissful oblivion of coming.

Suddenly there was pressure all around, clutching at him and he knew there was no turning back. It was everything he imagined it might be and then some as she finally came. The muscles holding clenching and unclenching in response to the overload of orgasmic pleasure exploding like a supernova throughout her body. Awash in her, he drank of her, tasted her honey.

Ripple of ecstasy dancing across the length of her synapses, Cady arched her back, keenly aware of the tiny thing trapped in her feminine depths. It felt so good, so amazingly good to come with him there.

The avalanche of contraction abating, Deacon twisted sideways trying to push against the swollen slick tissue holding him in place and drool out over the little patch of skin separating her vagina from her anus. Rising to wobbly feet, he staggered back far to be able to see her face and smiled. Could she go again?

The Impossible Dream

After all the ordeals Oliver had most recently been through, it all seemed to add up and a wave of fatigue washed over him. He was so tired. Glancing over at Stan, he felt reasonably assured nothing would occur between his stepfather and the immense Larissa. Reasonably assured. Sitting down, the notion of his mother’s impending visit create conflict in his mind. How was he supposed to act? She knew this thing was going to happen and she did not intervene. What could she have said to prepare him? Looking at the situation, a half smile appeared on his face. He knew there was nothing she could have told him, nothing that would have even come remotely close in preparing him for this ordeal. The fact she might have been ineffective warning him did nothing to alleviate the hurt he felt or the sense of betrayal, but still, she was his mother. Conflicted.

Lying down on his side, Oliver closed his eyes. Although bone weary and still imperiled, he forced himself to relax, letting his mind go blank and allowing a sense of calm to fill him. The deeper he got, he began experiencing a sense of floating, drifting on an unseen current as sleep settled over him, fatigue melting away.

In the darkness, he could hear a soft rhythmic pulse, steady, soothing. Warmth enveloped him bathed him in the purest of love and filled him with inner peace. It was then he realized he was in his mother’s womb.  A queer sensation danced over his skin, energy leaving him not unlike the ritual in the Omega house. Light shone all around him. He knew he was dreaming, but in the odd dream fashion, he knew it was him, but somehow not him, he being little more than a spectator. As the light faded, the dreamscape shifted, he looked on a very young version of himself on the ground having just fallen off his first two bicycle, bright tears in his eyes. Both Stan and his mother were there offering soft words of reassurance and helping him get back up on the bike. The scene melted away, now he saw himself, this time a little older, in the garage, gloved hands pounding away at the heavy bag suspended in the corner. It was like a slideshow, flashing little vignettes of his life. Grade school, Sara, the ranch.

Next, he was sitting on his bed in the dorm with Cam, they were laughing over something or other but he did not know what. Sersei appeared, materializing like some radiant golden angel with a beatific smile. Seeing her there filled him with an ache. He knew in her core she was an evil vile girl, she had deceived him and betrayed her brother, but somehow even after all of the villainous things she had done, she still had the power to fascinate him.

The scene shifted and he was himself again, this time he found himself on his back lying upon the altar in the basement of the Omega house, his life essence pouring out him. He opened his mouth to yell, to protest but no sound emerged only a blanket of darkness settling over him.

As the darkness receded, he found himself somewhere else, somewhere out in the open, the sky overhead a pallet of fiery sunset hues. All around him there was a sea of people his size, thousands maybe, all on hands and knees, heads down in supplication, soft chants in an unknown dialect creating a susurrus of whispers.

At the center of the gathering, facing him, sat an enormous polished marble statue of a woman reclining in a massive throne, her attire some type of garment draped off one shoulder. Left arm extended toward him, she held a smoky colored spherical object in the palm of her outstretched hand. Was it the moon? The subtle coloration of it made it look very much like the lunar surface of the moon. On her right side, her arm upon the rest, she held in her hand a spear rising vertically from the base upward and there was an ornate looking carved shield leaning against the side of the throne.

Even at this distance, the delicate masterfully sculpted features of the woman made her appear exquisitely beautiful, the artist somehow capturing a supernatural grace reflected in the colored light of dusk. Navigating through the throng of sprawling devotees to get closer, the statue’s appearance was something of a conundrum in Oliver’s mind. She looked mature without seeming aged, but young without appearing juvenile. Either way, the closer he got, the more resplendent her visage.

What could this place possibly be? Some residual delusion in his own mind created by recent events or possibly related to the Weeping Stone? Such a strange dream.

Suddenly the chanting stopped leaving an ominous quiet hovering like a palpable sensation in the air as the prostrate people all around him dissipated like wisps of smoke caught in a breeze, leaving him alone. The hair on his neck rose and goosebumps decorated his arms.

Gazing now over the empty space recently inhabited by people, “Weird,” he murmured, his voice raspy in his own ears.

Turning his attention back to the beautiful statue, his breath caught in his throat. With his back turned, the figure had moved, head tilted forward now as if regarding him. Her eyelids opened, but instead of eyes, there was only a luminous purplish colored glow.

“Ah, I,” he babbled, staggering back a few steps from the gaze. Blackness clouded his vision and the ground seemed to rush up under him, making him feel as if he were falling.

Suddenly, Oliver awoke with a startled jolt, rolling to his side on the cool surface of the kitchen table, eyes blinking rapidly, heart racing in his chest.

Rising from where he sat near Larissa, “You okay pal?” Stan asked, taking a few steps in Oliver’s direction, a concerned expression on his face.

“I,” Oliver paused, frowning. Why was the hair on his neck still standing?

Highway Run

Seated in the aisle seat near the front of the Airbus A320 for the duration of the flight, Samantha Haynes nibbled absently at the nail of her left thumb as she waited for the plane to taxi to the terminal. Fishing the cell phone out of her purse, she exchanged a few hasty messages with let Stan. Why was it taking so long? Tucking her phone back into her purse, she unfastened her safety belt. The moment the plane came to a halt, she was up, fishing her luggage out of the overhead compartment as the flight attendants opened the plane’s door.

“Ma’am,” addressed the middle-aged flight attendant.

 Sam smiled weakly and nodded, shifting her carryon and moving toward the door.

She did not exactly know the extent of what was unfolding but she felt a definite sense of urgency. Stan had Oliver and they were alive. Clearing customs seemed to take another eternity before she was able to stop at a small coffee shop and grab herself a cup of caffeine to enervate herself. After that, she exited the airport and as fortune would have it, in time to catch the shuttle to get to the lot where she parked her car.

Although filled with concern for both Stan and Oliver, a nagging foreboding of dread gnawed at her stomach. How could she face them and explain the depth of what was unfolding? Why did she not deign to inform them about it? Putting her luggage in the trunk, she got in and started the car. She knew why. She was afraid. Afraid the tenuous situation would unravel or explode. Stan was a bull in a china shop and there would be no way to get him to understand or appreciate the breadth of the sorority’s power. He would charge in head first, full of piss and vinegar much like it seems he did despite his promise to remain low key, only to be at the mercy of Omega sisters and then be devoured by them, figuratively and more than likely literally, particularly if her mother discovered Stan was Mildred’s prodigal son.

At least in his fervor, he reclaimed Oliver and for that rescue, she was immensely grateful. The whole plan went unexpectedly sideways. Nothing she or her allied sisters could do to supplant the Crawford girl’s claim on Oliver, but getting Cerys in line as second was a coup. Some careful nudging and they strategically positioned a potential recruitment candidate in freshman Harmony Winthrop to sit third in line. Information suggested she was particularly close to her younger brother Linus and might be malleable to persuasion though she was technically still an unknown.

Looking for police cars, she pressed her foot down harder on the accelerator, eyes flicking down at the speedometer as the needle crossed over 80 mph. How much of the situation did Stan know? Oliver? A sinking feeling settled into the pit of her stomach as another thought crossed her mind. Did either of them know about Sara being pregnant? That Oliver had been essentially put out to stud? The girl was heavily gravid now with, of all things, fraternal twins, a boy and a girl. If they knew about Sara’s current state, the knowledge would definitely not have gone over well at all, but if they did not, she was resolved to tell them. There were so many secrets, evasions, omissions of knowledge she knew the hurt would be deep. Her fear was that bringing them up to speed on the sorority might be too little, too late.

Pulling into the public parking area of the university, she paused a moment and let out a pent up breath to settle her jangled nerves. Grabbing her purse off the passenger seat, she removed her cell phone and typed.  “I’m at the university now. I have no idea where you are?”

Minutes passed agonizingly slow then her phone chimed. “How do I know it’s you?”

Not surprised by his suspicious response, especially if he was on the run with a diminished Oliver, she frowned. A slow smile spread across her face. “Oz,” she typed back. It was what he called his penis.

“and?”

Chuckling, “The great and powerful,” she answered.

A smiley face grinning emoticon appeared on her screen. It was him.

“Where are you right now I’ll come to you?” she inquired, nervous and excited at the same time.

A street address appeared with the direction to park in the back. Typing it into the map app on her phone, she set out. She found the place easily enough. Looping to the end of the block, she took the alley drove to the rear of the house, pulling up beside the green Chevy parked there.

Getting out of the car, a strange sensation washed over her, robbing her of her breath and making her weak in the knees. She immediately knew the feeling. She was in proximity to a Weeping Stone. Examining her hands, an electric sensation danced across the tips of her fingers.

“How?” she mumbled, leaning back against her car to steady herself, noticing for the first time the pale blue luminance radiating out of the cab of the Cavalier. Why was this stone active? Who activated it? Why was the sensation so concentrated?

A young looking woman with blondish colored hair appeared at the rear of the house, a wary expression on her face. “Samantha?” she queried.

Nodding, Sam pushed herself off the car. Despite the yearning and delicious sensation spilling over her, she forced her legs to carry her away from the stone and toward the house. “Where’s Stan?” she asked, voice quavering slightly. Where was he?

“Maybe it’s best if you came inside,” suggested the woman, offering a small smile.

Slipping her purse strap over her shoulder, Sam nodded and took a few steps forward. Why was the stone here? Was she walking right into a trap? Did they have Stan? Indecision halted her steps.

The girl turned her head to the side, “She’s here,” she announced inside the open door.

If it was a trap, it was too late. Unsure what to expect or the reception awaiting her, Sam squared her shoulders and walked up to the house.

Stepping through the threshold, she found herself in a kitchen, eyes locking on the two diminutive figures on the table. Oliver she expected, “Oh my god, Stan, is that you?”

Seeing Sam, even being mad at her, Stan grinned.

Stan by Me

Oliver felt deeply conflicted, relieved and angry. Relieved to see his mother but bitterly angry over the betrayal, like a calf lead to slaughter.

Hurrying across the floor, Samantha practically flung herself into the chair letting her purse fall to the floor and putting her hands on the table, “Oh baby, sweetie, I am so sorry,” she blurted, voice breaking with emotion as she addressed both men.

“You’ve got some explaining to do,” Stan stated.

“I know, I know, oh god, I am just pleased you‘re,” she paused.

Stepping forward, eyes narrowing, “Okay?” Oliver snapped.

Sam nodded, moisture welling up in her eyes. “I know how you must feel,” she empathized, sliding her hands across the table to cup Oliver in her right, Stan in her left.

Shaking his head, Oliver stepped out of the way, “You have no idea how I feel, what they did, and if you do know, then more’s the shame on you!” he accused.

Feeling uncomfortable, Larissa grabbed her package of cigarettes and quietly slipped out the back door. Taking a seat on the stairs, she lit up a smoke. This whole thing was a messed up situation but fuck was she horny.

“I deserve that,” Sam sobbed.

Walking over to his son, “Oliver,” Stan said softly, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Sloughing off the older man’s hand, Oliver moved closer to his mother, “You hugged and called me your little man and then threw me to the wolves like a table scrap!”

“There was a plan,” she replied, voice feeble.

Shaking his head, “Yeah, I saw how that worked out for Cam just before he died,” he snorted.

Sam leaned back from the table, “Cam? Cameron Crawford? He’s alive,” she provided.

Oliver hesitated.

Nodding, “He’s alive, saved by Cerys. Right now there are sisters preparing to restore him,” she supplied.

A mocking grin appeared on Oliver’s face, “Alive? I don’t know where you’re getting your information, but Cerys ate him,” he replied bitterly.

Raising her hands almost defensively, she fixed her looked squarely on Oliver, “I know, that’s how she was able to smuggle him out of the house with arousing suspicion, honey, it was supposed to be you,” she assured. “She made a judgement call and I’ve been told she thought she could get you both out.” Turning to look at Stan, “That’s why I wanted you to stay away, I didn’t want to put you in more danger,” she said.

Pursing his lips, “Ah,” Stan noised. “I couldn’t just sit by. Your sisters were going to miniaturize Kent, but I swiped their glowing blue rock thingy.”

Sam glanced back toward the door, “Is that Vesper’s stone? In the car?”

Oliver shook his head, “Sabina’s.” Cam was alive?

Bringing her hands to her face, Sam shook her head.

“Can you use the juice in that rock to maybe fix us?” Stan inquired. Why the hell couldn’t he tear his eyes off Sam. God she was beautiful. Was she blushing? Is that why she hid her face? Was it the stone? Whatever it was, he could feel his body beginning to respond.

“I can’t, only a keeper has the ability to manipulate the power. Thomasin. Cam is with her right now. I need to get you both to her with that stone. Maybe, just maybe,” she breathed, hope sparking in her glistening eyes as she lowered her hands

Trying to fight off the growing sensation in his loins, Stan pursed his mouth, consternation on his face, “What about Kent, he’s a good kid,” he countered, trying to focus an image of the lad in his mind but losing the battle and desperately wishing to reunite with Sam.

Averting her eyes, Sam shook her head, “Sorry, there is only so much I can do.” Why did Sabina’s stone have such an incredibly potent effect on her? She knew she needed to explain, accept responsibility for her actions, but she could feel herself beginning to drift as the effects of desire wrapped deliciously around her. She wanted Stan. Letting out a long breath, she tried to bring herself back to moment. Was she wet?

Scowling, Oliver could sense something happening between His mother and Stan. In the week he was at the Omega house, he knew what was happening and Stan was like a deer in the headlights. Clearing his throat noisily, “Hey, shouldn’t we grab Deacon and get on our way?” he asked.

Sam blinked, “Deacon?” she questioned.

“He’s somewhere in the back with Cady. He’s safe. I’m just wondering if it might not be a little,” he paused, grinning mischievously, “wiser to wait for the cover of darkness and travel at night?” he offered.

“I think we should probably go now,” Oliver encouraged.

“Night would be safer,” Sam opined, tapping a thoughtful index finger against her lips.

Shaking his head, “Are you two for real right now?” he challenged.

“What?” Stan asked, making a face.

Rolling his eyes, Oliver pointed at Stan’s groin, “Oh I don’t know, that,” indicating Stan obvious arousal.

Looking down, “Oh that,” Stan chuckled. “It’s a nervous condition, happens all the time.”

Manufacturing a wry smile, “Swell,” commented Oliver before looking up at his mother.

“It is the power of the stone,” she informed.

Oliver nodded. “Speaking of the power of the stone, I think maybe I saw your goddess. She looked at me,” he advised.

A quizzical expression appearing on her face, “What, you saw her?” Sam queried.

“In my dream,” he added.

Having difficulty trying to concentrate, Sam shook her head. Did it mean something? Was it a byproduct of the stone? Sometimes keepers speak of sensing the goddess, but no one ever claimed to have actually seen her. Strange. The ache between her thighs was growing and her resolve seemed to be failing. She wanted Stan, needed him.

Eyes on Samantha, Stan moved close to Oliver, “Listen, give your mother and me a few moments to settle our differences and then we’ll set out, okay?” he offered.

Sensing this was as close to a compromise as he would get, Oliver nodded hoping to god Stan did not use the term cock block.

Grinning, Sam swept Stan into her right hand, gently curling her fingers around his tiny body. “Do you know where the,” she paused then chuckled softly, “no, I suppose you wouldn’t. I’ll find it,” she finished, exiting the kitchen.

Oliver looked toward the ceiling, laughing almost maniacally, a strange warm sensation creeping over his body. Frowning, he looked back down at his hands. What was this?

No Stone Unturned

Even though all was in readiness, Edith prowled restlessly. The sooner they took the essence of the Macready boy, the sooner she would find some semblance of peace. A small ironic smile touched the side of her flawless face. It seemed like every dozen years or so, there was a series of unfortunate circumstances threatening to confound the sisterhood, but invariably things righted themselves. This year would be no different, she would see to that. She was not going to let Sabina’s insolence and stupidity detract from the harvest.

As Edith anticipated, the harvest seemed to flow smoothly enough. All the little hens lay about the floor caught in the throes of the swoon’s gift of ecstasy while the unconscious and diminished form of Kent remain on the offering altar.

“All’s well that ends well,” Edith commented.

“There’s something wrong,” advised Vesper.

Turning to look at the other woman, “What?” Edith demanded.

“The energy should be subsiding as the stone incorporates it, but it’s not,” Vesper replied.

Looking at the stone as the glow seemed to intensify, “What does that mean?” Edith asked.

Shrugging her shoulders, Vesper met Edith’s quizzical look, “It’s never done this before, I don’t know.”

A slow smile spreading across her lips, “Hand it to me,” Edith stated, extending her hand.

Vesper hesitated, “I don’t know if it’s safe, you’re not a keeper,” she cautioned.

Making a motion with her hand, “Nonsense, I know how to handle these baubles,” Edith replied, tone annoyed.

Cupping the stone in her hands, “It’s pulsating. Like I said, it’s never done that before,” said Vesper, extending the brightly radiant stone toward the older woman and flashing her a look of uncertainty.

Suddenly the stone flashed incredibly brightly, the explosion of light casting a wave of warmth and energy out in all directions.

The emission staggered Edith backward and dropped her to a knee as she struggled to catch her breath, her entire body awash in raw pleasure.

Knocked to the ground, Vesper moaned in delight.

“W-what was that?” gasped Edith, hands shaky, vision blurred.

Vesper rolled onto her side, hands buried between her thighs, her only response another guttural primitive sound.

Swallowing hard, Edith shifted her weight, spying the weeping stone on the floor. Instead of its normal blue hue, it appeared a translucent grey, almost scorched from within. Then to her horror, the stone crumbled to a dust. “No!” she screamed, shuffling forward, fingers sweeping through the finely powdered residue.

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Looking at the small form of Cameron Crawford in the center of the parquet floor, Thomasin smiled down on him, “Ready?” she asked.

Eager to be returned to his full size, Cam nodded vigorously, scarcely believing it was about to happen.

Agnes York looked from her overwatch perch atop the table, a satisfied smile on her tiny face. Victories against the sorority were rare so she would cherish this one.

“Is it going to hurt?” Cam asked, shouting in order be heard.

Collecting the cloth bag containing the weeping stone, Thomasin smiled and shook her head. “None of the handful of other rescuees have mentioned pain, some disorientation, but not pain,” she replied, a slight smile off the left side of her full-lipped mouth. She wondered whether he might need a little gentle feminine persuasion to help him deal with the stigma and aversion to women he might harbor due to his indelicate treatment at the hands of the Omega sisters.

Grinning, Cam let out a mock breath of relief. An image of Oliver popped into his head and he felt a stab of guilt.

Opening the bag, Thomasin slid the softly glowing stone into her open hand and frowned. Rolling it over, the lines barely disrupting the absolute perfection of her face, “Something is amiss,” she muttered.

“What is it?” inquired Agnes.

Shaking her head, Thomasin turned to Agnes and moved closer to show the older woman the rock.

Almost as if on cue, the luminance within the stone grew bright, oscillating prismatically, “That is most certainly unusual,” Agnes stated.

“Feels like a power surge or-,” Thomasin started, the rest cutoff as the stone erupted in a brilliant flash of light, engulfing her with energy spewing out in all directions. A moan of ecstasy escaped her lips as she was knocked to the ground, body convulsing in pure orgasmic pleasure.

Agnes likewise was driven back several of her small steps, slight body ignited by the sudden release.

Rolling to her side, knees pulled up, Thomasin glimpsed the crumbled remnants of the weeping stone before catching sight of the tiny little thing on the floor. Unbridled want filled her voracious desire. Growling like some feral jungle cat, she uncoiled, getting up on all fours. Moving closer, she licked her lips in anticipation.

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Seated on the back stairs of her house, Larissa mused, mind still utterly intrigued by the impossibility of her tiny houseguests. There was just something so remarkable about them, or maybe it was their predicament, either way, it seemed to ignite the pilot light of her libido. Feeling aroused as she did, she wondered what delights Cady might have been exploring with her little fellow Deacon. A wolfish grin appeared on her attractive face at the myriad of possibilities she would enjoy given similar opportunities. Was it weird to feel this way?

Taking a drag off the smoke, a sudden radiant flash of blue color ignited in the interior of the green Chevy, catching her attention. Getting to her feet, she exhaled. “What the hey?” she muttered, moving closer to the cavalier and marveling at the scintillating rays emanating from within the car. Cupping her hands against the driver’s side window, she peered into the car, the light seeming to originate from under the passenger seat.

Circling around the car, she tried the handle, surprised to find the door unlocked, she opened it. Getting low, she slid her hand under the seat but jerked it quickly back when she felt the crack of a static electric type discharge shock her fingertips.

Examining the tips of her fingers, the world displaced by a supernova of light brighter than the sun. Warmth washed over her and through her, touching every cell in her and igniting them in a chain reaction.

System overloaded, she screwed her honey-colored eyes closed and toppled backward, a scream escaping her lips as she fell to the earth. Conscious thought fled her, replaced with wave after wave of bliss. Laying there, panting, minutes seeped by. When next she opened her eyes, she raised herself up off the ground, the inside of her thighs tacky with excitement. Casting her gaze toward the house, eyes a luminous violet color, a smile touched her lips.

Sam and Stan

Finding the bathroom, Sam clicked on the switch for the light above the vanity and locked the door. Placing Stan down upon the imitation granite laminate countertop, she put the toilet seat lid down and took a seat facing him.

Putting a stern expression on his face, “First off, and I need to get this off my chest,” Stan started, moving closer to Sam, “let me state I am still incredibly miffed at how you mishandled this thing. Oliver is a damn good kid and I’m no slouch. That said, given this whole shrinking thing, I know you thought you were doing the right thing, but you and your dumb sorority sisters need to realize just because I have a dick doesn’t mean I’m completely useless,” he asserted.

Silently, she nodded, relief still surging through her. She tried to hide a smile because despite his assurance of competence, his diminutive stature belied his claim, though at this moment she did not feel it particularly prudent to point out his current height.

Putting hands behind his back, Stan pivoted to the side, pacing a few steps, “I don’t know exactly what the future or whether or not this shit is permanent, but I’m okay. As long as I am with you, I am okay,” he offered, nodding slightly, more to himself than her.

Leaning closer, “Stan baby, I knew you would be mad, but you don’t know how much I hoped you would understand. I love you, I love Oliver and I just couldn’t see another way,” she started.

Raising a hand to silence, “What’s done is done. I can’t begin to describe how I feel right now, not just emotionally, but physically, just everything is so new, different,” he shared, glancing down at his unapologetic tumescence.

Sam knew without a doubt her choices had wounded Stan, and he had every right to express his ire, but listening to him speak now, the tone of his voice, she knew the wound was not fatal; they would be okay. Looking down on the diminutive form of the man she loved, she had honestly never imagined him this way but seeing him thus, especially in light of his obvious heightened excitement filled her with a deep desire.

Glancing around the interior of the brightly bathroom, Stan chuckled and nodded. “Probably not the most romantic of locations, but come here woman, I want some sugar,” he instructed, flashing her a sly smile and beckoning her closer with his hand.

She wanted him. Not to own or dominate, but to share a mutually rewarding experience. Reaching down, she curled her hand delicately around him and brought him up near her face. Pressing soft lips against his face and upper torso carefully in a near full body kiss she delighted in the sensation, feeling her body beginning to respond.

For Stan, the feeling was incredible, the velvet texture of her lips molding around him almost sent him over the edge. Why did it turn him on so much? Sure, he loved her and they enjoyed a very rewarding, energetic and invigorating sex life, this was something new, something completely out of this world.

Finishing the kiss, Sam eased her hand away, eyes on the tiny prize, “Are you okay?” she questioned, a great many years since she had indulged in any type of love play with a tiny.

Swivel around in her palm, “Are you kidding me?” growled Stan.

Recognizing the cast of his expression, Sam grinned. Usually when he behaved like this, she knew she was in for some great sex. “Are you sure you can deliver?” she asked, slight tease in her tone.

Nodding slowly, deliberately, “Sweetheart, you have no idea the kind of trouble you are in right now,” he warned.

Eyebrow arching as she angled her head to one side, “Really?” she challenged, drawing out the word.

“Uh huh,” he assured, tongue touching the corner of his mouth as his eyes roamed down her body. He knew what she liked.

“Well then,” she started, gasping suddenly and hand jerking violently.

Spreading out in her hand, “What?” Stan asked, concerned by the unexpected motion.

Sam felt her body go into full swoon, every nerve ending exquisitely alive and tingling with desire. A moan escaped her lips, eyes squinting as she tried to focus on the tiny man in her hand, the space betwixt her thighs awash in her own juices.

“Are you okay babe?” Stan inquired.

Struggling to find her voice, she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and nodded weakly. Why was this happening? It was as if a tidal wave rolled over her and left her in a heightened state of urgent need. Placing Stan back on the counter, she stood upright, hands fumbling with the button on her blue jeans.

Getting to his feet, Stan saw what she was trying to do and grinned, “You’re on baby,” he quipped.

Getting the button unfastened, she practically tore her jeans off, unabashed by the slick discoloration of heat seeping through the front of her white cotton panties. Slipping her thumbs into the elastic, she started to pull them down, but Stan halted her by raising his hand.

“Leave them on baby,” he purred.

Nodding, she pulled them back up, but drew out the front, exposing the slightly stubbly pale flesh of her swollen and slick mound. Snatching him up with her free hand, she adroitly slipped him into the cleft of her lubricated sex and release her panties, another mewl of sheer delight escaping her throat.

Stan had always loved the way Sam tasted, devouring every drop of nectar her climax generated when they made love. This was on a completely different scale. Enfolded by her engorged labial folds, he found the all-encompassing warmth nearly overwhelming. Her size was definitely new, but he did know her flesh, knew exactly how to tease her, please her, and drive her into a frenzy. Every breath was of her, laden with her essence drawn deep into his body. Twisting sideways amidst the slippery petals, he reached his hands upward toward the nexus of her arousal, dancing ever so lightly across the taut surface. He did struggle to find footing amongst the soft tissue covered in her grool. It was almost as if her ravenous pussy were a living thing, trying to draw him in and devour him.

Head back, Sam moaned at the expert manipulation, parting her legs wider and tilting her pelvis craving more. Stan relentlessly tormented her, taking her beyond anything she had ever experience before in her life. She wanted to come so bad.

Stan’s movement turned more from deliberate ministration to self-preservation.

“Stan!” Sam cried, pressing her fingers against the exterior of her sodden panties. Moving him in little circles against her pussy, he felt so good.

Feeling the gravity of her vagina greedily sucking him into her, Stan did not fight it, instead relishing the intensity of her impending climax. He could feel himself crossing the threshold of no return.

Body like a coiled spring, Sam erupted, convulsively, spasmodically.

Thomasin and Cam

Seeing the predatory expression on the gigantic woman’s face as she approached on all fours, gorgeous and terrible at once, Cam felt a knot tighten in his gut. This was not the first he had seen that glassy eyed hunger. His first instinct was to bolt, to run and hide, but thinking of Oliver, he summoned every residual ounce of courage left in his tiny body.  

Tongue snaking out of her luscious mouth, Thomasin growled in her throat, closing the distance between them rapidly. Sweeping her hand behind the tiny youth, she corralled him beneath her, the heat between her thighs raging with uncontrolled and moistened need.

Raising his hands tentatively up toward her, “Is everything alright?” Cam asked. Was this part of it? Was this all just another cruel Omega trick?

As if physically struck, Thomasin paused, her luminous green eyes narrowing. “Wait,” she murmured, the ache of want thrashing against her impulse to resist. Pushing herself up, she settled back on her knees.

Trembling, Cam stood between her parted knees, gazing along the length of her pale inner thighs at the dampened cotton panties covering her furnace of primitive lust.  

Placing hands atop her thighs, Thomasin glanced toward the ceiling trying to quell the voracious appetite of her womanhood. “This is not who you are, you are not like that,” she verbalized, seeking to center herself.

Cam still had no inkling of what had happened, only that deep down he knew something had gone wrong, and for him, terribly so.

Lowering her head, the immense woman smiled and focused her iridescent eyes on Cam. “I’m sorry Cam,” she offered, voice halting.

Eyes widening, “W-what’s happening?” he asked, dreading the answer he knew was sure to come.

Letting out a big breath, she shook her head before glancing over her shoulder at the powdered remains of the weeping stone, “I’m not sure,” she replied honestly.

Eyes filling with tears, “Are you going to fix me?” he queried.

Again, she shook her head, this time slowly and holding his eyes, “I don’t think so,” she offered apologetically.

A sad smiled crossed his lips, “It’s okay,” he replied, voice near to breaking, nodding affirmatively.

“I’m sorry Cam, I truly am,” she whispered, feeling equal measures of contrition for the inability to be able to restore him and for her momentary loss of control.

Recognizing the inner conflict she seemed to be waging, “It is not your fault,” he accepted, wiping a hand across his eyes.

Bending forward, she brought her hands around him, cupping his tiny body gently and bringing him to her chest. “We’ll figure this out,” she proposed, trying to put a reassuring smile on her sweat-dampened face.

Looking up at her, “You are not like your sisters, beautiful yes, but not like them,” he stated.

Her smile was weak, “I confess, it was no small feat to not take you, but I am myself once more, made stronger by temptation,” she replied, a slight quaver in her voice, the tendrils of desire still coursing the breadth of her nervous system. “We will figure this out, I promise Cam,” she assured, bringing him close to her bosom and transferring him to her left hand.

Shifting his weight in her palm, Cam nodded before pressing himself against her chest. He did not know what demons she overcame, but suddenly he felt safe in with her. “I trust you,” he replied, in his heart believing the words he was saying.

Chuckling softly, “It has been quite a while since, well you know, so it would be a lie if I said it wasn’t touch and go there for a moment,” she shared, tracing the pad of her right index finger along the hollow of his back and over his spine. She knew the odd expulsion of energy from the stone had ignited her baser needs, but still it had been close.

Luxuriating in her body’s warmth through the fabric of her blouse, “Why? What held you back?” he questioned.

She smiled and shook her head, “That is the question isn’t it?” she countered, knowing why but choosing not to reveal her motivations to the tiny boy pressed against her.

The subtle difference in her struck Cam and for the first time since his reduction, he actually felt stirred. He chuckled softly to himself, “this is crazy,” he murmured.

“What?” Thomasin queried, easing her hand back to look at him.

Eyes big, “Is it wrong that I am attracted to you?” he asked.

Smiling, she shook her head, “Probably the power of the stone,” she offered.

Cam slowly shook his head, “No, it‘s you,” he stated. It was true.

“I am sorry for what my ‘sisters’ did to you,” she apologized, using her free hand to do the air quotes.

“What my sister and her cohorts did to me is done and I cannot ever forget that, but I know it could be different and I think you are the one to show me,” he petitioned.

It was Thomasin’s turn to chuckle, “Be careful,” she cautioned.

“I trust you,” Cam said, repeating his earlier statement.

A stab of conflict touched Thomasin. She wanted Cam. Should she accept his offer? Could she restrain herself? Glancing back to the table, she saw Agnes standing at the edge.

Having observed the whole event unfold, the tiny woman pursed her mouth and nodded once.

Cradling Cam to her bosom, Thomasin rose to her feet and padded down the hall to her room. Walking across the floor to beside her bed, she set her tiny passenger down atop the patterned duvet cover and switched on the decorative lamp beside the bed, the lined shade pushing a soft glow toward the ceiling and weakly lighting the room. “Welcome to my boudoir,” she offered, spreading her hands apart.

Finding the soft material under his feet challenging to stand on, Cam shifted to one knee and survey the elegantly appointed room. “Very nice,” he verbalized, genuine in his compliment.

Taking a step back from the bed, Thomasin looked down on him with an alluring smile as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse.

Gazing up at her, Cam felt a moment of serenity, clarity. Gone was his fear. “You are incredible,” he praised, rewarding her with a broad smile.

Letting her blouse fall to the floor, she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, freeing firm magnificent breasts, each crowned by an erect rose pink nipple. Next, she unfastened the button to her skirt and shimmied her hips to get it to fall, unabashed by the moisture slick mark on the front of her cotton panties. Slipping thumbs into the elastic waistband, she drew down her panties, the damp material clinging to her pussy before reluctantly letting go and exposing her private, plump mound decorated in short dark stubble. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting,” she expressed, eyes downcast.

Drinking in her presence with his eyes, mouth agape in awe, Cam shook his head, “No, it’s okay,” he assured. He suspected her sublime beauty a product of the stone, but in this moment, it did not matter. He could not believe how incredibly turned on he felt.

Moving deliberately, she climbed over him and onto the bed, reclining on her side facing him.

As her mass moved over him, the sweet smell of perfume and sex following in her wake, Cam watched her. While the events in the Omega Pi house happened just recently, it felt a lifetime ago to him. Clambering over the soft material of the duvet toward the depression where she lay, Cam could feel warmth radiating off her body as he braced his hands against her.

Slight goosebumps appearing on her skin, she giggled. “I forgot how ticklish it could be,” she stated, cupping him to her stomach and rolling onto her back before releasing him.

Getting to his feet, he glanced down her body and then back up to her face, “I’m not sure where to start.”

As heated as she felt, craving to feel him inside her, she deferred. “Start wherever you feel comfortable,” she encouraged.

Turning back to her mound, a slow grinned spawned on his face and he walked across her toned tummy.

“Hold on,” she warned, giving him a moment to brace. Parting her legs, she bent her knees slightly, the effect tilting her pelvis and granting him better access to her most delicate area.

Getting down, he slid his hand over the tender flesh and across the taut pearl of her clitoris.

A quick intake of breath, “Mmm,” she cooed.

“You’re so hot,” he marveled, tracing the fingers of his left hand lazily back and forth in front of his face while continuing to massage her button with his right.

Putting her hands palm down on the bed, Thomasin curled her fingers into the thick blanket and pushed her head deep into the pillow, allowing the pleasurable sensation to wash over her. It was hard not letting go and just surrendering, but she did not want to hurt Cam.

Whether a result of his handling from the girls at the house, or some innate previous unknown skill, Cam seemed to know exactly where to touch, the pressure to apply. He felt elated, like he had stumbled across some feral tigress and been allowed to pet it, caress it. Shifting his position, he got onto his belly, sliding himself between the dewy petals of her sex. The smell, the taste, everything, it was too much and he unloaded amongst her swollen sex.

Releasing her hold on the blanket with her right hand, “Cameron,” she murmured, placing a delicate finger in the hollow of his spine and applying gentle pressure, sliding him over the sopping folds of her heated womanhood.

Cam relaxed his body allowing her to set the tempo of the play, the experience so wonderfully different.

Bringing her left hand to her breast, kneading the supple flesh, her breathing quickened. Pressing more firmly against Cam, she could feel her urgency building, the storm of release hovering on the horizon.

With the rapid increase in fluid she produced, he could tell she was close. Suddenly he was waist deep inside her, her warmth suffusing him as the pressure of her opening squeezed his hips and midsection.

“I’m…going…to,” she gasped before letting out a small cry of pleasure.

Riding the waves of contractions, Cam smiled knowing this was only the beginning.

The Goddess Awakens

Oliver lay on the kitchen table, eyes closed as he tried to catch a few moments to rest. The sound of the backdoor to the house opening off the kitchen made him roll toward the sound and open his eyes. He watched as Larissa entered the room. Pushing himself into a seated position, he yawned and stretched simultaneously before knuckling his eyes.

Head angled slightly to one side, she approached the table.

Looking up at her, Oliver saw her eyes, violet, like the ones from his dream.

Stopping at the edge of the table, she examined him, expression curious. “You are Oliver,” she said, her voice a blend of two different voices speaking in harmony.

Keeping his gaze on her, he nodded and rose to his feet. “Larissa?” he asked.

She inclined her head slightly to one side the movement almost birdlike as she regarded him, “She is here, but time is limited lest this vessel be damaged,” replied the dual voices.

Snapping his head in the direction Sam had gone with Stan, “Um, why do I get the feeling something is not quite what it should be, ah, to whom then am I speaking?” he asked, keeping his tone light-hearted.

Smiling, “You are my chosen. You are the key. I have awakened but you must find the lock to open the path,” she added. Reaching down with her left hand, she touched him lightly on the center of his chest with the end of her index finger.

The contact was electric, sending a sudden rush of energy through his entire body, images of star constellations and places flicking wildly through his mind as his breath rushed out of him.

Larissa took a couple of steps backward, the violet color in her eyes starting to flicker. Reaching to him with a beckoning hand, “Come to me,” she invited in the two voices. Then she was gone. Larissa remain, but Oliver knew whomever, whatever had inhabited the girl was no longer present.

Staggering to the table and using her hands to support herself, “Whoa,” murmured Larissa, voice hoarse.

Catching his breath, he looked up at the shivering girl looming over him, “Are you okay?” he asked.

Nodding, she blinked a half dozen times as if trying to focus her golden colored eyes.

“What do you remember?” Oliver inquired.

Larissa shook her head, blond hair spilling over her shoulders, “I feel so strange, so I don’t know,” she paused, a rose-colored blush coloring cheeks as her gaze drifted down her body.

Following her eyes, Oliver spotted the wet stain at the crotch of her pants, “Ah,” he noised.

Chuckling, Larissa let out a long breath, “It was like a dream sort of, I’ve never come so hard before,” she supplied, eyes becoming distant as she revisited the memory.

Oliver stayed quiet, trying to make sense of the odd barrage of pictures that filled his brain when Larissa not-Larissa touched him. Was it a place she was showing him, or was she trying to get him to go to a location?

Larissa frowned and glanced back to the door leading out to the back porch, “Wait a minute, I remember being outside,” she commented as if awareness were just coming to her.

“I need something to write with,” he verbalized, urgency in his tone.

Larissa looked back at him, “Huh?”

“I need something to write with, like a pencil lead or something,” he instructed.

“A pencil?”

“Please hurry!” he issued.

Shuffling over to the counter, Larissa pulled open a drawer, rifling through it and finding a small pencil as long as Oliver was tall.

“And paper, or something to write on,” he added as loudly as he could, hoping she heard him.

Larissa returned to the table with the pencil and a scrap piece of lined paper and set them down near Oliver, “Will this do?” she queried.

Looking at the log sized pencil, “Can you break the lead off the pencil?” he asked.

Reaching down she picked up the pencil and press the tip against the table, breaking off a piece of the graphite.

Collecting the nub, “Perfect,” he replied, dropping to his hands and knees, using the lead to try to replicate the mind pictures as quickly and as accurately as possible.

Leaning over him, Larissa rested her weight on her elbows, trying to see what it was Oliver was drawing but inadvertently blocking his light.

Pausing, he looked over his shoulder and up at Larissa, “Maybe you should go change your pants or something,” he suggested, giving her a smile.

Looking suddenly abashed, she nodded and hastily departed, leaving him to resume his work.

Scribbling away furiously, when he was finished, he leaned back on his feet, examining his handiwork. Not particularly well versed in celestial cartography, he did recognize The Big Dipper amongst a cluster of other starry formations. Also on the paper, a rudimentary rendering of some type of cave or passage maybe, symbols he did not recognize, some darker, some lighter. What did it all mean? If it was a set of directions, he certainly had no clue how to read it. What did the not-Larissa mean, ‘My chosen?’ The key to what? So many questions sprang to mind.

Cady emerged into the kitchen cupping Deacon in her right hand, a shy expression on her face and avoiding eye contact with Oliver as she made her way over to counter near the kitchen sink where she gently washed tiny Deacon before drying him and coming to the table.

“Somebody was in the bathroom,” Deacon explained, pushing fingers through his wet hair in an effort to slick it back.

“My mother is here, I think she is in there with Stan,” Oliver explained, glancing from Deacon up to Cady.

Cheeky grin appearing on his face, “Alright Stan,” snickered Deacon before looking at Oliver and pausing, “I mean they are probably just trying to figure some shit out or something.”

Rolling his eyes, Oliver shook his head.

Looking down on Oliver’s hodgepodge of scribbles from above, “What is that?” Cady inquired.

Pushing himself to his feet and stepping off the paper, Oliver shook his head, “I’m not sure,” he replied with a shrug.

Larissa appeared in the kitchen wearing stretchy black pants, “Oh hey,” she greeted.

Cady nodded.

Sam appeared moments later, Stan in hand, “Sorry, did someone need the bathroom?” she asked, while Stan just grinned like a bird fed cat. Walking to the table, she set Stan down, eyes moving to Oliver’s paper. Pointing her index finger at one of the designs, “That’s the symbol for the goddess,” she informed. “Who did this?”

Looking to his mother, Oliver pointed to himself.

Picking up the paper, Sam examined it more closely, “How?”

“Do you understand it?” Oliver questioned.

Setting the paper back down on the table, “Some of it, but certainly less than more,” she conceded. “You still haven’t explained how you came to draw all of this.”

“Okay, this is going to sound strange, but,” he started, sharing details of his dream and then his interaction with Larissa not-Larissa and touch induced download of visions much to Larissa’s own look of confusion.

Nodding, “We need to see Agnes, she will know what this all means,” she informed.

“Shotty,” Stan called, spreading his hands.

Looking at Larissa, then Cady, “We are going to need some type of travel container,” Sam requested.

Road Trip and Old Acquaintances

Prior to leaving Larissa’s house, Samantha phoned ahead to alert Thomasin of their intent and the urgent need to see Agnes. She shared the strange components of Oliver’s vision and the experience of Larissa not-Larissa.

While Larissa was a loose end, Sam had to take the girl’s assurances of silence on faith, as there was naught she could do.

Choosing to take her car, as Cady’s had more than likely been compromised, Sam put the girl in the passenger seat, the clear plastic container holding Oliver, Stan, and Deacon on her lap. They had lined the bottom of the container with tissue paper in the hopes of making it more comfortable.

Driving as cautiously as she could, Sam drove to the safe house where Agnes resided. Pulling into the driveway and p to the side of the house, she parked. Disengaging the seatbelt, she looked to Cady, “I don’t mean to be impolite, but could you wait here, maybe keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary?” Sam asked, extending her hand to receive the disposable container.

Cady looked down at Deacon then back to Sam, “Odd, like a container full of tiny shrunken men? I think maybe it would be best if I tagged along,” she replied.

“If we get nabbed in here, everything is lost, everything. Please, if you could just be our eyes,” Sam pleaded.

Looking down at Deacon, who offered the girl a nod, she relented and passed the container gently to Sam.

Giving the girl her cell number, Sam exited the call, circling around to the rear of the house where there was a secured door requiring a 4-digit code to facilitate entry. Tapping in the code, she opened the door and walked in.

Waiting there to greet her, “Sam,” Thomasin greeted with a warm smile, eyes drifting down to the clear container in her hands.

“Thomasin, it is good to see you. This is Oliver, Stan, and Deacon,” she introduced, naming each of the tiny men.

The raven haired beauty smiled, “Welcome, you are safe here,” she assured.

“We need to see Agnes right away,” Sam conveyed.

Nodding, “I know, this way, she’s waiting for you,” Thomasin replied, taking Sam to see the shrunken woman.

Agnes stood on the antique table in the private library, standing in front of the dollhouse.

Kneeling down, “Agnes,” Sam said, setting the plastic container on the table and opening it.

Looking at Sam, Agnes smiled, “It is good to see you,” she replied, eyes drifting on the men as they climbed out of their portable plastic conveyance before drifting back to the dollhouse. “While I know time is of the essence, I think it important for you to come out Cam,” she called.

At the sound of his name, Cam appeared.

Seeing his friend, alive and unhurt, Oliver nearly stumbled trying to get to his friend. Even though both boys were naked, they came together, fiercely hugging each other. “I thought you were gone dude,” Oliver exclaimed, breaking the embrace.

Jubilant, “That makes both of us man, I thought for sure I was a goner,” Cam replied, not ashamed by tears starting to spill down his face. “I thought once my wretched bitch of a sister got ahold of you, you probably weren’t long for this world.”

“I just can’t believe it,” Oliver expressed, the swell of emotion in him threatening to break free, “how, how on earth did you get out of Cerys?”

Shaking his head, “I chewed my way out,” he jested. “No, I honestly don’t know but I’m pretty sure she puked me up.”

Stan arrived, followed by Deacon. Oliver made the introductions.

“As much as I would like to let you get reacquainted, I need to know what you saw, experienced, spare no detail,” Agnes instructed.

Oliver shared everything he could recollect as Agnes furiously made notes and illustrations. After he was done, he was not sure what she might have made of the information.

Moving to the other side of the table, Agnes summoned Thomasin. Pointing at an ancient looking tome on one of the higher shelves, “That one,” she instructed.

Taking out the massive book, Thomasin set it cautiously down on the table. “What page?” she inquired, opening the aged manuscript.

“Four hundred twenty, twenty-five,” she stated. Turning to her four shrunken male companions, she looked at Cam, “This might take me some time to piece together, why don’t you take the others in and get some food,” she suggested.

Nodding, Cam took the guys into the dollhouse. Sam’s phone call provided Thomasin enough time to put together a platter of comestibles for the guests.

After a half dozen books and a handful of Google searches on Thomasin’s phone, Agnes looked up at the two enormous women and smiled, “I think I know what she was trying to show Oliver,” she said.

“Where?” Sam asked.

“Nova Scotia,” Agnes replied.

“Canada?” Thomasin inquired, a frown appearing on her face.

Agnes nodded, “Everything aligns with Inverness, Nova Scotia. There are legends predating the town to a fairy hill in the area called The Shean,” she replied.

“And you think it might be a barrow holding the goddess?” Thomasin asked.

Spreading her hands, “I cannot say for certain,” she cautioned.

“So what do you we do and how does Oliver fit into all of this?” Sam questioned.

Agnes paused for a moment. “If interpret this right, Oliver will be required to enter the barrow and lift the wards binding the goddess,” she explained.

Shaking her head, Sam frowned, “So what it sounds like you’re saying is that Oliver has to go to do this,” she stated.

“I believe so,” Agnes answered.

“Alright,” Sam acknowledged, “I’ll take him.”

“Given your mother’s involvement and how this is all unfolding, in my opinion, I think we would have an improved chance of success by having Thomasin take him,” Agnes suggested. “You would do well here to protect Stan.”

“He’s my son,” Sam countered.

“And you may very well be on a watch list, thereby increasing exposure and the possibility of putting your son at jeopardy. Thomasin can move more freely and we both know she is very capable. She will do everything in her power to care for him,” Agnes assured, nodding affirmatively as if punctuating her faith in the younger woman.

Letting out a big breath, Sam nodded slowly and turned her head to look at the beautiful brunette, “I trust you,” she said softly, her plea for safety of her son unspoken.

Thomasin nodded slowly, “Given the urgency, by airplane I presume?”

“Yes,” Agnes confirmed.

Hugging Sam, “I promise, I will get him there,” Thomasin pledged. Disengaging from the embrace, “I’ll start packing right away,” she responded.

Bosom Buddies

The expression on his face dubious, “So, let me see if I understand this right. You are going to smuggle me into a foreign country in your bra?” Oliver asked.

“First and foremost, our goal is to get you safely to the location where Agnes believes the goddess is interred. I can think of no other place to carry you secretly across the border unless you would prefer my panties?” she countered with a half grin.

Oliver knew she was right. There was no way to sneak him secretly across in a purse without subjecting to x-ray screening. In a pocket, there was always the possibility of the customs officer doing a pat down or personal security check. Inside luggage was a definite no go so yeah, the choices were as Thomasin indicated. “Bra it is,” he confirmed.

Boarding the American Airlines Boeing 777, Thomasin secured her carryon in the overhead compartment and took her seat next to the window. As a precaution, they had also purchased the center and aisle seats making sure no one else next to her. She could feel Oliver nestled on the upslope of her right breast above the nipple, a subtle shift from him eliciting a pleasurable physiological response from her body. Having felt the swoon and experiencing Cam, she felt confident she could maintain her composure for the duration of the nearly nine-hour flight. Letting out a breath, she absented listened to the preflight safety talk by the flight attendant as the plane taxied out onto the runway.

Snuggled against the warm flesh of Thomasin’s smooth firm breast, Oliver tried to get comfortable. What if after all of the things he went through, the plane crashed? That would suck. Considering his own current personal floatation device, he grinned. Tracing his fingertips lightly over the alabaster flesh, the tightening of the tissue around her nipple responding to his exploration. He knew she was dedicated to seeing this quest through, but who was she? He likened his current predicament to swimming with a well-intentioned great white shark. The shark scene in the submarine from Finding Nemo came to mind. Before he left to go to Canada, Cam pulled him aside and said he could trust her. Trust for Oliver was definitely a hard thing for him to come by of late. She smelled good, clean, fresh. He could her the rhythmic beat of her heart. It was a pleasant distraction, soothing. What if this this was a one way trip for him. The roar and powerful vibration of the jet engines and sudden acceleration pressed him more firmly against her boob, goose bumps appearing on her skin. Again, he found himself gently caressing the

Gripping the armrests of the seat, Thomasin always found takeoffs and landing to be the worst part of flying. Having Oliver with her gave her an odd sense of comfort. Given the purpose of their trip, she felt nervous, more for him than her, though there was still some apprehension for herself. Once they had leveled out, she let out a breath.

About thirty minutes into the flight, a neatly attired attractive man appeared, stopping by her row of seats. “I couldn’t help but notice you were alone. Would you like some company?” he asked, giving her what she could only presume was supposed to be his game smile.

“No, thank you,” her tone firm and edged with ice.

Plunking into the aisle seat, “My name is Mark,” he said offering her his hand across the vacant center seat.

Looking at the hand and then at him, unleashing the Omega glower of disapproval, “I don’t care, so please Mark, I would prefer to be alone,” she said, holding his eyes.

Retracting the hand, “It’s a long flight. Are you from Halifax?” he asked.

Shaking her head slightly, she gave him a small smile, “I have tried to be polite. I do not wish to be disturbed. I would encourage you to return to your own seat, please,” she voiced.

Raising his hands, “I meant no disrespect. I only thought a pretty lady might appreciate an ear that’s all,” he explained.

Letting out a sigh, she leveled the full power of her gaze on him, “Thank you Mark, no, fuck off,” she growled, voice low.

The man recoiled as if slapped, “Whoa,” he noised. “I was just trying to be friendly.”

Turning her body away from him, she looked back out the window.

Leaning over the empty seat, “What a cunt,” he sneered under his breath.

Thomasin sort of half snorted and chuckled. It was circumstances like this she wished she could take reduce him, use him, before passing him off to her sisters for their amusement. “Run along now little man,” she urged, voice dripping with condescension.

Shaking his head, Mark gave her a smirk and got out of the seat before vanishing from her line of sight.

“Take a walk dick. What an asshole,” came a small voice from her chest.

The sound of Oliver’s voice surprised her, making her laugh reflexively before glancing around to see if anyone could have possibly overhead. “Shush,” she whispered surreptitiously.

“Just saying,” he replied, shifting in his cloth confinement and sending a delightful tingle through her.

Thomasin made another quieting sound, “I’m going to the bathroom,” she said, rising from her seat. Navigating up to the front of the plane, she entered the compartment, closed and latched the door. Hiking up her skirt, she lowered her panties before sitting on the narrow seat. As she started to pee, she reached into her bra and deftly plucked Oliver out, putting him on the counter near the sink.

Reaching his hands over his head, Oliver stretched.

“You need to be quiet,” Thomasin cautioned.

Glancing up at her, Oliver nodded, “I know,” he conceded, feigning contrition.

“I mean it, or it’s panties for you,” she threatened. “I’m not kidding.”

Oliver flashed her a mischievous smile, “If that’s the case, maybe I’ll do it on purpose. Give me something to do for hours,” he replied, lowering his arms and rubbing his hands together.

Arching a threaded eyebrow, “Be careful. I would have thought you might be a little wary of feminine attention,” she cautioned, dabbing herself with tissue and dropping it into the toilet.

Oliver hesitated, considering her words before responding, “It feels different in this situation, here with you. I don’t know. Those others used me with no real regard for me. I was nothing more than a disposable plaything. Neither of us really knows how all of this might unfold and spending what might be my last day or yours pleasuring a beautiful woman, on my own terms, well there are certainly worse ways to go,” he grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “I just don’t want to come off all douche like Mark.”

 Thomasin favored him with a sly look, “There are millions of Marks out there. I think I would enjoy a sharing with you,” she replied. “But.”

“But?”

Parting her legs, she glanced down to her private area, “I was not anticipating this happening and my situation might be a little prickly,” she confessed as she returned her gaze to him.

“I’m okay with it if you are,” he answered, giving her a wink.

Smile blooming on her face, “Alright,” she conceded, taking another tissue. Rising to her feet, she turned to face the sink, skirt still up and panties done, giving him a close up view of her slightly stubbly mons. Pressing the water button, she wetted the tissue and delicately wiped the crease of her private parts. Dropping the used tissue in the toilet, she drew her panties almost all the way up before parting her legs. Picking Oliver up around the small of his back and his waist, she set him in the gusset of her panties and pulled them up, adjusting his position to enhance access to her feminine flower. The sensation of him there sent a stab of pleasure up her spine. Pulling her skirt back down, she washed her hands and returned to her seat.

First Class Passage

Situated as he was between the petals of the outer lips of Thomasin’s pussy, his feet were situated near the entrance to her vagina, his upper body near her urethra and his face near the fleshy hood protecting her clitoris. The pressure squeezing around was fairly forceful and confining as he could feel her moving, presumably walking back to her seat. Once she sat, she parted her legs slightly, allowing him greater mobility and freedom of movement and dim illumination. Sliding his hands upward over the heated smooth skin under the protective hood covering her most delicate and sensitive area, he lightly kneaded the pearl he found there, teasing it, toying with it. He could feel her body responding, the temperature around him rising as blood engorged the area. Her essence was almost spicy, delicious as he inhaled her rising excitement. Again, there was something to be said about being a willing participant in this type of play and he relished in the subtle manipulation of this enormous woman’s erogenous zone.

Pushing the seat back into a reclining positon, Thomasin closed her eyes, delighting in the sensations Oliver was teasing out of her body. There was something very naughty about being sexually stimulated in a public area and the taboo nature of it served to enhance her want. Feeling herself lubricate, she was very glad she chose to wear a dark skirt. Reaching up, she depressed the flight attendant call button. A moment later an attendant appeared.

“May I help you?” she asked, the name on her uniform read Rebecca.

“Could I get a blanket please?” Thomasin inquired.

Rebecca smiled, “Of course,” she replied, vanishing and returning with the blanket.

“Thank you,” Thomasin expressed, laying the blanket across her lap.

“Your welcome,” replied the attendant.

Shuffling her bottom, Thomasin eased her skirt up under the blanket and parted her further. Using the blanket to cover her motion, she slid her right hand under it and lightly grazed the front of her moistening panties with her fingertips. Oliver’s massage was positively electric, and she bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out in pleasure. She so desperately wanted to push him into her, but stayed her hand, letting him choose the pressure and tempo of his attention.

A different female flight attendant, this one named Gloria appeared pushing the beverage trolley, “Would you like something to drink?” she inquired, giving Thomasin a practiced smile.

Thomasin nodded, “Juice, please,” she requested, voice slightly unsteady.

“We have orange or tomato,” offered the woman.

“Tomato please,” Thomasin replied.

“Cookies?” Gloria inquired, pouring glass of tomato juice from a can.

Thomasin smiled and nodded. Gloria leaned in and handed her the drink, a small package of two cookies and a napkin. “Thank you,” Thomasin said.

Gloria smiled and nodded before turning her attention to the seat across the aisle.

Feeling the copious amount of sexual juices leaking out of Thomasin and around his lower body, Oliver slowed his pace on her clit, using only the tips of his fingers to gently caressing the protruding nexus of her hunger. God was she hot and humid. Reaching down his right side with his hand and closer to her hole, he felt the slippery fluid seeping out her coating his exploratory fingers. Bringing his fingers back to his face, he sampled her taste, savoring the nectar she produced. He could not remember ever being so hard before, so impossibly rigid. He felt her hips shift and arch, her body pleading for him to resume his efforts on her clit. Instead, he continued the slow lazy motion of his left hand on her hardened nub.

Draining the tomato juice in a single drink, Thomasin chuckled softly to herself. She wanted to come so bad but the little bugger was expertly toying with her, keeping her on the edge of release. There was no doubt she was going to leave a stain on the seat. She was so close. Slipping her hand inside the elastic waistband of her panties and shuffled her bum forward. It was easy enough to find Oliver nestled in amongst her slick folds. Using her index finger down his back, she nudged him gently, pressing his legs inside the hungry confines her sopping vagina, the molten interior trying to draw him inside. Sliding her hand back up, she danced her fingers over her clit before withdrawing her hand. Pulling her hand out from under the blanket, she touched her damp fingers to her lips. Goddess was she wet.

Oliver allowed her to guide him inside her body, his legs slipping easily inside her lubricated passage and volcanic depths up to his hips. The contractions her body made sucked greedily at him as if trying to devour his little body. His last solo session with Sersei where she completely inserted him into her pussy and then pleasured herself in the tub taught him he should refrain from allowing himself to be drawn completely into Thomasin when she finally let go. Bracing his body with his right forearm, he could still touch her velvet button with the fingers of his left hand. Squeezing the excited flesh and pushing at it in a circular type motion, he could feel the flesh under his hand beginning to swell and vibrate. She was going to come.

Thomasin’s breath caught in her throat. Oliver finally pushed her passed the point of no return. Clenching her teeth, she closed her eyes as orgasm enveloped her. Wave after wave seemed to roll through her. Pulling the blanket up to her face to stifle any moans or cries of delight that might escape her lips; she surrendered to bliss, delicious electric tingles dancing across the entirety of her flesh.

The intensity of her orgasm was directly proportional to the hour he spent slowly tending the fire of her passion. The force of her contractions squeezed him like a velvet vice, baptizing him the wash of her desire. Unable to hold back, Oliver released.

Leaning back in the airplane seat, Thomasin lowered the blanket from her face and closed her eyes, allowing her climax to subside, little after tremors of pleasure dancing through her somatic nervous system.

After a minute or so, she could feel Oliver moving between her thighs. It felt like he was trying to extricate himself from the folds of her spent her vagina. Setting the blanket in the empty center seat, she rose to standing on slightly wobbly legs. Using the seats along the aisle for support, she made her toward the nose of the plane and entered the small bathroom. In the tiny compartment, she delicately extracted Oliver and cleaned him then herself using he sink. Placing him back in her bra she returned to her seat.

Pineapple

The remainder of the flight passed uneventfully, with both Oliver and Thomasin enjoying some peaceful rest.

Landing at Halifax Stanfield International Airport in neighboring Goffs, Nova Scotia, Thomasin had no problem clearing customs and picking up the new Chevy Malibu rental car from Dollar Car Rental Agency. After the nearly ten hour long flight, the four hour time zone change, and the three and half drive to Inverness, Agnes had arranged for them to overnight At the Briarwood Bed & Breakfast in Elmsdale.

The hotel proved to an historic house with neatly appointed rooms. Once in her room, The Blackberry Suite, Thomasin removed Oliver and gently set him down on the down duvet atop the queen-sized bed. “I wanted to thank you again for the sharing on the plane,” she praised, rewarding him with a beaming smile.

Returning the smile, “Thank you,” he replied, twisting from side to side and stretching his muscles.

“Are you hungry?” she asked. “The proprietress said there was a night try out.”

Touching his lean stomach, “I am famished,” he said.

Nodding, “I’ll go get us something and be back in a few,” she said.

The room had a rustic charm, angled walls and filled with assorted antiques. The Victorian architecture reminiscent of the Omega house. Thomasin returned carrying a small plate with a sampling of some meats, cheeses, and some fruit. Setting the plate on the bed, she took a seat opposite him and together shared a simple meal.

Rising off the bed, “There is a bathroom across the hall for our use. I would absolutely die to have a shower,” she stated.

Oliver nodded, “Count me in if there’s room enough for the both of us in there,” he remarked.

Grinning, “I think we should both be able to squeeze in, might be tight though,” she joked then paused, a coral hue coloring her cheeks.

Oliver knew what she was thinking about and rather than taint the moment with something crass, he just grinned.

Getting herself undressed, she donned the complimentary robe and collected Oliver. They needed to cross the hall outside their room to the exclusive bathroom for The Blackberry Suite.

Setting him on the lip of the tub at the opposite end of the shower nozzle, she turned on the faucet, letting the water run before stripping off the robe.

With his future uncertain, Oliver paused to appreciate Thomasin. Although he knew what he was looking at was the byproduct of the rite, her sculpted naked body, full breasts, she was positively beautiful.

Bending at the waist, she tested the water temperature with her hand before pulling the knob on the end of the spigot. Water sprayed out of the wall mounted showerhead, releasing a cool mist for a couple of seconds before warming.

Grabbing the complimentary single serving shampoo and conditioner bottles, she set the two tiny plastic containers inside the tub and climbed in, pulling the plastic curtain behind her and ducking her luxurious raven mane under the jetting water. Turning toward him, her back to the showerhead, the water spilled over her immaculate body creating glistening highlights of her perfect contours. Cupping her left hand in the space beneath her breasts, she collected runoff water and moved closer to him, allowing the water to spill gently through her fingers and over him.

After their shower, she placed him on the counter and laid a face cloth near him to dry off while she used a towel. Putting the robe back on, she cupped Oliver, pausing to peek in the hall before returning to their room. In the room, she set him down on top of the bed and then pulled a hairbrush out of her travel bag.

Walking back to the bed, she began brushing her long damp hair. “Are you nervous?” she asked.

Oliver shrugged then nodded slowly. “I honestly don’t know what to expect,” he admitted.

Thomasin nodded in agreement. The uncertainty of how their journey might end filled her with a sense of foreboding. There was much in her past for which she felt she must atone.

Oliver grinned. “I don’t know about you, but I’m still on west coast time and not really tired. On the play you sort of just let me play,” he shared, tucking his hands behind his back.

A half smile appeared on her face, “Uh huh.”

“In the interest of reciprocity, I think only fair if maybe you also had the same opportunity,” he offered.

Smile widening, “Is that an invitation for me to take the initiative?” she queried. Although enflamed by the power of the stone, she had deferred to Cam in his fragile state. Oliver seemed cut from a different cloth and much more resilient than Cam had been, and he was the one offering.

Giving her a wolfish grin, he nodded slowly.

It had been a very long time since she had had the ability to indulge that appetite. She chuckled, “You might want to reconsider,” she suggested.

“Nope,” he replied.

Laughing softly, “You asked for this,” she warned.

“Do it,” he prompted.

Putting the hairbrush down, she slid of the bed and padded across the hardwood floor to carryon luggage on the plush chair. Grabbing the little travel bag, she returned to the bed and pulled out a small plastic square containing dental floss. Showing it to him, “Second thoughts?” she asked.

Although not entirely sure what she in mind, his smile never wavered as he shook his head no.

Picking him up with her left hand, she also picked up her hairbrush, sliding the black resin handle underneath his back and then held him there, arms by his sides. Using waxed dental floss, she wrapped his little body to handle of her hairbrush, making sure the binding was secure but not too tight; head toward the end of the handle. Holding the brush by the soft bristles, she brought him up in front of her face, “Is that okay?” she asked.

Now he understood. She was going to use the brush’s handle, with him tied to it, like a dildo. Testing the bonds, “Yep, I think so,” he answered.

Bringing him closer, she pressed her pillow lips against his face, kissing him. Drawing him back some, “If this gets to be too much, just let me know,” she advised.

“Pineapple,” Oliver said with a grin.

Thomasin chuckled, “Pineapple it is,” she accepted.  Pulling him close to her mouth, she extended her tongue, licking him from his feet up passed his head, her breath sweet and fruity. Parting her lips, she slid the brush into her mouth onto her the surface of her tongue, copiously coating him in her saliva. Extracting him, she gave him a smile before lowering him down onto the bed, facing upwards. Climbing up onto the bed, she knelt over top of him, her sex positioned above him and on full display. Cupping her breast, she teased her nipples before sliding her hands down over her body to the wet place between her thighs

From his perspective, Thomasin loomed over him, the warmth of her hunger emanating from her heated sex. Skillfully, she touched herself, her breathing rate accelerating, her efforts teasing a long clear strand of fluid anticipation from her sex.

Curling the fingers of her right hand around the bristles, she raised him up through the vaginal drool and gently gliding him through the crease of her vagina.

Knowing he was only along for the ride, when she angled the handle of the brush to the opening of her pussy he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. As she applied pressure, the petals of her bloom parted, swallowing him into the garden of her pleasure.

Edith Unleashed

Climbing to her feet, legs unsteady, the space between her thighs tacky with orgasmic expulsion. Vesper looked over to Edith. The older sister still on her knees, hands in the residue that had been the weeping stone. There appeared to be odd currents in the air, little distorted ripples of energy and they seemed to be centered on Edith, floating down on her like ribbons

“Are you okay?” asked Vesper, her voice hoarse in her own ears.

Rising to her feet, Edith spread her arms, embracing the energy as it entered her, “It’s glorious,” she said, tone breathless and filled with wonder.

“What is going on? Are you sure you’re alright” Vesper inquired.

Turning to Vesper, Edith chuckled, face rapturous, her eyes glowing brightly, “Child I am better than alright. The untamed essence of the goddess flows through me and I am one with the power,” she said.

Involuntarily, Vesper took a step backward, “Goddess, your eyes,” she murmured.

Tilting her head back, “Goddess indeed,” Edith growled, lips curling into a sneer. “You could not begin to comprehend,” she scoffed, eyes drifting down to the cluster of unconscious sorority sisters lying on the floor.

Shaking her head slowly, Vesper continued to edge toward the door. “I think something has gone wrong,” she whispered.

Edith snapped her attention back to Vesper, “Wrong? On the contrary, I see now with such clarity. I know who has been true and who has been false. You’ve been a naughty girl,” she proclaimed mirthfully. 

At the door to the ritual room, in Vesper’s mind there was no doubt something very off with Edith, something very bad. Every instinct in her body compelled her to flee.  Turning, she bolted, her flight carrying her up the stairs, the sound of the elder sister’s laughter chasing her as she ran.

Edith was about to give chase when Sabina made a guttural noise. Turning her attention to the woman on the floor, a slow smile split her radiant face.

Rolling onto her side and climbing onto her knees, Sabina groaned, “Well that did not go quite as expected I presume,” she chuckled.

Edith snorted, “Long have you been a thorn in my side,” she stated.

Lifting her head to look at Edith and crack wise, the words died on her lips as she behind the other woman.

Spreading her hands, Edith smiled down cruelly on the white haired woman, “The time has come to atone for your insubordination, your lack of anything resembling loyalty,” she judged.

Raising her hands, “Edith, listen,” blurted Sabina, mind still fuzzy from the distorted swoon.

“No,” Edith replied, swinging her head slowly from side to side, incandescent gaze fixed on the kneeling woman. “What words could you possibly offer to defend or justify being an irritant?”

“I gave you something none of the other dared, I gave you honesty. I was no more no less myself,” she retorted.

“And therein lies the problem, for you are annoying, as a flea is to a wolf so are you to me,” Edith sneered.

Sabina laughed bitterly, “I know not what affliction possesses you now but I do know you have always been a controlling condescending bitch with an over inflated sense of self-importance. You are an insufferable hag. I should have devoured your precious little grandson when I had the chance,” she declared.

Edith’s smile contorted into a sneer. Moving forward quickly, she took Sabina by the forehead. The surge of power ran down her arm and out through her fingertips into the other woman. Sabina’s mouth dropped open, eyes filled with wonder then fear as her body began to diminish. “You can’t,” she babbled, words slurring.

Bearing down, the other woman’s energy filling her, igniting every neuron and creating a chain reaction of ecstasy. “Not only can, but will enjoy beyond measure,” she replied breathlessly, hovering on the edge of a rapturous release.

As the world expanded all around her, Sabina felt powerless, helpless under the sheer force of Edith’s hand driving her down and stealing her life essence. Powerless, she drained away until she was no more than a finger’s length, pinned to the floor by power of Edith’s hand pressing down.

Lifting her hand away, exposing the tiny nude form of Sabina, Edith groaned, barely containing the raging fire burning within her. Snatching Sabina up, she pressed the tiny woman firmly and abruptly to the heated furnace of her loins. Grinding Sabina against her swollen and ravenous pussy, she came hard, grunting and bucking against her hand and the tiny prisoner contained therein. “Goddess,” she moaned the act of coming all over tiny Sabina the ultimate expression of domination.

Covered in Edith’s sticky release, Sabina coughed and sputtered.

Shuddering from the raw intensity of the climax, Edith raised Sabina before her face, dangling the white haired woman by a leg. “The Awakening is now. You have been judged and your faith is found wanting,” Edith groaned, opening her mouth wide and extending her tongue.

“No,” Sabina cried, trying in vain to twist and squirm.

Closing her lips around Sabina’s upper body, Edith sucked the other woman into her mouth. Using her tongue to guide the tiny woman to her throat, she lifted her chin and swallowed, the motion pulling Sabina into her esophagus. Feeling her rival sliding down and into her stomach, a shiver of pure delight crawled up Edith’s spine.

Some of the other girls began to stir, pretty faces flushed and eyes slightly glassy.

Words drawn out, “Maeve take your plaything to the recovery area,” Edith breathed, forcing herself up to her feet.

Pushing herself up onto all fours, “As you will Elder Sister,” Maeve replied slowly, eyes drifting over to the tiny form of Kent.

Bringing a hand to her abdomen, Edith smiled, wondering how long Sabina might survive there. She would not be the first, nor would she be the last. The power from the stone had opened her eyes. She had not been lying when she told Vesper she knew who was true and who was false. She had been aware of Samantha’s allegiance with Agnes and that little enclave of renegade bleeding hearts. She would deal with her daughter’s duplicity in turn. Oliver. Stan. But those others who had worked to undermine would suffer the same fate as Sabina. Licking her lips, where was Vesper and where was Cerys?

Vesper Revealed

Vesper was at a loss to explain what had happened, but to her, it seemed as if the entire power of the stone had somehow entered Edith and it frightened her on a deep visceral level. Every fiber of her being compelled her to flee. Why Edith’s eyes glowing confused her. What did she mean when she said she had been naughty?

Rounding the turn outside the ritual room, she scaled the stairs to the main floor two at a time. First she quickly sloughed off the ceremonial garb and put on her regular clothes before hurrying up to the second floor and to the Cerys’s room. Grabbing the handle, she barged in without bothering to knock, startling the dark hair girl awake. “You need to come with me,” she urged, tone low but insistent.

Sitting up on her bed, “I don’t understand,” replied Cerys, a puzzled expression on her face.

“Things are happening. I know of your relationship to Agnes, I’m on your side. You need to leave now!” Vesper stated.

Cerys’s eyes narrowed, “I don’t know what you mean,” she defended, feigning ignorance. Was it all a trick to ferret out those sisters whose might be sympathetic to Agnes? Perhaps a test?

Glancing down the hall, “I do not have time for this game right now. If you want to survive you need to get out right now!” she hissed. “My car is parked out back, but you need to hurry.”

Cerys hesitated.

“Suit yourself,” Vesper growled before turning and moving further down the hall.

After Vesper left, Cerys clambered out of bed and closed the door. There was something truly terrifying in the older woman’s urgency. They knew she had saved Cam. Was her life now forfeit? Getting quickly dressed, she gathered her phone and purse. Exiting her room, she hurried downstairs, ducking out of the house.

Leaving Cerys’s room, Vesper went next to Harmony’s room. Given the girl’s relationship with her brother, Agnes and the others had identified her as a potential recruit. Walking into Harmony’s room, she stopped short when she saw the girl and her roommate Acacia seated I each of their respective beds.

Pulling the blankets up high, “You startled me,” Acacia said with a smile.

Ignoring the bespectacled girl, Vesper looked at Harmony, “You need to get dressed and come with me right now,” she stated, voice brooking no argument.

Nodding, Harmony got off the bed, “Do I need my shoes?” she asked.

Vesper nodded.

“How did everything go with Kent?” Acacia asked.

Vesper’s stern gaze silenced any further questions from the girl.

Slipping on her running shoes, Harmony joined Vesper at the door. “Is everything okay?” she asked, daunted by the older woman’s demeanor.

“Come on,” Vesper commanded, practically dragging the shy girl down the hall by the arm, leaving Acacia with a perplexed expression on her pretty face.

“Am I in trouble?” Harmony asked, not resisting.

“Shush,” Vesper said, guiding her out the back door to the area near the lane where she had parked. Cerys was standing there, usually placid face awash with uncertainty.

Striding across the expanse of the backyard, Vesper unlocked the car, “Get in,” she urged, getting behind the wheel of her little four door metallic blue Toyota Camry.

Cerys climbed into the front passenger seat while Harmony got in the back behind Vesper.

Starting the car, “Text Agnes and tell her Edith Frost knows about my involvement. Tell her something happened to my weeping stone and also tell her Sabina is at the house too,” she instructed, putting the vehicle into drive and hurrying away from the house.

“What’s going on?” Harmony asked meekly.

Thumbs dancing across her phone, Cerys paused to look at Harmony and then Vesper, “I didn’t realize she was situated,” she stated.

“She isn’t,” Vesper replied.

Brow raising, “What?” Cerys questioned.

Without bothering to look at the confused girl, “You know what happened to Cameron Crawford and Oliver Haynes, right?” Vesper asked.

“Yes,” Harmony admitted.

“That’s what they have in store for Linus. That’s your brother’s name, right? Linus?” Vesper asked.

Nodding, “Yes,” replied the young woman. “But.”

“But what?” Vesper queried.

Harmony frowned, “She killed Cam,” she accused.

Turning sideways to look at the girl, “No, it only appeared that way,” Cerys interjected, explaining the ruse to get him safely out of the house.

Shaking her head, “I don’t understand,” protested Harmony.

Shifting her gaze to Vesper, “I have to agree. I don’t know what’s going on,” Cerys added.

Vesper did her best to recount the circumstances surrounding the disintegration of the weeping stone and the effect it had on Edith. She included the threat surrounding suspect loyalties.

Shaking her head, Cerys frowned. “We are nowhere near ready to buck the inner circle. Especially without your stone. We are so done for,” she lamented.

“Given what happened to Edith, there was no other way. I don’t think we would have got out of there,” she offered, taking a hard right at the intersection.

Cerys frowned, “Where are you taking us?

“I need to get my son, he’s with Teagan right now,” stated Vesper, an edge of concern in her voice. While she liked Teagan, the girl’s leanings definitely aligned traditionally.

Arriving at her place, nothing seemed amiss. She had Cerys and Harmony wait in the vehicle while she went inside. She found Teagan curled up with Aventus in his bed. Gently rousing her, “I’m home now,” she said.

“How did it go?” Teagan asked, sitting up, stretching and unleashing a big yawn.

“Good. Here?”

She smiled down at the slumbering boy, “He’s always good,” she replied. “It’s pretty early, but do you mind if I go?” she asked.

“No, you can go ahead if you like,” Vesper encouraged, giving the girl a warm smile. “Here let me get you some money,” she offered.

After paying Teagan for babysitting, Vesper saw her off. Hurrying, she woke Aventus and got him to change from his pajamas into proper clothes. Despite his grumbles and protestations, he complied in short order after she promised to hit a McDonald’s and get him an egg mcmuffin

Getting him out to the car, she honored her word and took him through the drive thru before driving over to the house that Agnes used as her base of operations.

Pulling up to the curb, “Wait here,” she urged. Getting out of the car, she walked up toward the house. The front door opened, and Vesper stopped dead when she recognized the woman standing backlit in the open door. To her horror, the figure was none other than one of the Omega Pi’s inner circle, Elder Sister Mathilda Featherstone.

Motioning with her hand, “Hurry yourself girl. You might as well bring the others as well,” ordered Mathilda, whom everyone called Tillie, the expression on her timeless face stern.

Vesper felt paralyzed. There was no way she could feasibly combat a sister from the inner circle. Tillie possessed a very strict reputation, tightly bound to adhere to the tents of the sisterhood. Had she been outmaneuvered?

Snapping her fingers, “Enough dawdling,” issued Tillie, tone reproachful.

Feeling defeated, Vesper lowered her head and smiled wanly.

Samantha Haynes appeared behind to the left side Tillie, “Vesper,” she said with a friendly smile. “Come,” she invited.

Relief surged through Vesper. Turning, she motioned for the others in the Camry to join her.

Aside from Tillie, Sam, and Agnes, there were two other surprise Omega Pi alumnus in attendance, Vesper recognizing only one of them as Eugenia Heatherington. Vesper relayed everything she could about the ritual and the effect of the stone on Edith. Agnes conceded things were unfolding very rapidly and that Oliver and Thomasin would arrive at their destination very shortly.

While Vesper was included in the gathering of senior sisters, Cerys and Harmony were not. Left to her own devices, Cerys decided to see if she could find Cam.

Lock and Key

Oliver awoke in the morning, his tiny body sore and aching but otherwise unhurt from his nocturnal adventures with Thomasin the night before. Sitting up in the facecloth he used as a billet, he glanced over at the gigantic woman on the bed beside the night table where he had slept.

 It was not long before Thomasin awoke, sleepy eyes, a pleasant dreamy smile on her face.

“Good morning,” greeted Oliver.

“Good morning,” she replied.

Neither spoke of the intricacies of their intimate play the night before as they prepared for the day. Thomasin went down to the kitchen area and ate a meager breakfast, bringing Oliver a few morsels of egg, fruit, and bacon.

Oliver spent the drive to Inverness in the cup holder of the rental car. Thomasin lined the cup holder with Kleenex to provide him some cushion. The weather started out slightly overcast, but as the day and journey progressed, the sun finally broke through and brightened the day. Given the gravity of the day to come, both were fairly silent, choosing instead to listen to the radio, channeling in classic rock through CFRQ-FM, The Mighty Q.

With GPS, it was easy enough to locate the coordinates Agnes provided. Getting to the location, a densely wooded hillock southwest of Inverness off Broad Cove Banks road, proved an entirely different problem. Although only a kilometer from the road, it took Thomasin close to two hours to arrive at the destination with Oliver safely stashed inside a container inside her purse.

Standing at the bank of a small arrowhead shaped pond, she removed Oliver, holding him in the palm of her hand.

“I don’t know,” she said, eyeing the pristine wilderness. A sense of dread filling her and making her desperate to leave the area.

Oliver saw something else, faint glowing markers pointing toward the tip of the arrowhead. “There, we need to go there,” he directed.

Following the direction he was pointing, she navigated the edge of the pond, swatting swarms of annoying insects along the way, “What is the national bird of Canada, the mosquito?” she grumbled.

Oliver pointed to a small cairn of moss-covered rocks, “The entrance is there,” he told her.

“How do you know?” she asked.

“I just feel it,” he replied.

Clambering over there, she crouched down beside the pile and examined what resembled the entrance of small animal’s den. “I don’t know Oliver,” she warned. “What if there’s an animal down there or something? You are awfully tiny.”

He shook his head, “No, this is it,” he replied, motioning for her to put him down. He could feel power emanating from the earth.

Placing him near the entrance, “Wait,” she instructed while she opened her purse and fished out a safety pin. Opening it, she handed it to him. “Just in case,” she offered.

Taking the pin, he stepped into the opening. The passage led downward, the descent steep but manageable. All around him, he could see bits and pieces of runic power glyphs binding magic to the ground, energy coursing through the very air and illuminating his path. Methodically, he continued downward until he encountered level solid bedrock. Moving laterally, he stepped into a large open space, a cavern to him. A haze of energy hung like a curtain or a veil in the air, making the hairs on his body stand up. Within the perfectly circular confines of the veil, he saw her, the goddess lying supine upon solid unblemished stone, save for a single hairline fault near her feet. The sight of her made his breath catch in his throat. To his diminished perspective, her nude body seemed massive though he would guess her overall height might be around six feet tall. Even through the indistinct shimmering of the magic, she appeared young, perhaps his age perhaps but immaculately perfect, flawless. Loops of braided white hair lay spilled around her head. His vocabulary felt inadequate, vulgar even.

Sitting down, he crossed his legs. “I’m not quite sure exactly what I’m supposed to do, but I get the sense I need to disrupt that lone symbol outside the force field near your feet. You said I was the key, but I don’t know how that is supposed to work.”

Placing his hands on his thighs, “Before getting started, I feel there are a few things I need to say though I really don’t know if you can hear me or not. On the one hand, I could free you and you might use your powers to put an end to the Omega Pi practices. On the other hand freeing you could unleash a dread goddess upon an unsuspecting population. It has also crossed my mind that if you exist, there are more than likely other powerful entities or beings like you out there. What does that mean for humanity in general? Setting you loose on the world could be all Old Testament wrath of God stuff or examples of divine capriciousness described by Ovid in his Metamorphosis.”

Taking a breath, “In the core of my being, my visceral self, I feel I can trust you but that said I am not so sure I can trust myself. I would like to think I have a pretty good understanding of things and am grounded in common sense with a notion of reciprocal fair play, but Sersei ensnared me easy enough with her pretty face and honeyed words. So why would you be different? I don’t know why you picked me. Maybe to plant the idea of some manifest destiny bullshit in my head and make me feel far more important than I really am, when truth be told I might only be just a tool to be discarded once I am no longer of any use to you.”

Chuckling, Oliver shook his head, “What am I to think of all your lovely and ruthlessly amoral disciples? I know, by rights I should despise those girls. What they’ve done, not just to me, but Cam, Deacon, Stan, my mom, the countless lost sons. They’re vile and self-indulgent creatures perpetuating a legacy of destroying lives for their own gratification and vanity. They mimic human emotion only to fulfill their baser wants,” he shared.

Turning his hands supine, almost supplicatory, “If only it was that simple. They’re bad and need to be punished in the most fitting way imaginable. Except, I know nothing is ever that simple. Part of me, and I not quite sure which, thinks in midst of all of this, these harpies might be victims too. Born into a broken system and raised to follow this barbaric practice. Now hold up, I know what you’re thinking, right is right and wrong is wrong so on some level I believe they have to know what they’re doing falls in the latter. That said, the ones who’ve broken faith, not with you, but with the sisterhood and that for which it stands suggests redemption might be possible for many of them,” he speculated.

Frowning, he nodded and got to his feet. “I am not so crass as to attempt to barter with you or saddle you with conditions for your release, but when I finish this, I do have a favor to ask. If the girls can be saved, Harmony seemed so sweet and shy, even Sersei, Brooklynn, and the others, if there exists some redeemable quality in them, please give them a chance,” he petitioned, a wry grin appearing on his face.

“I don’t know if that request is me being all noble or just still entangled in their beauty and clouded by testosterone. Oh, and if it’s not too much trouble, please fix Stan and Cam and Deacon, and any other guy still under the Omega influence,” he requested.

Getting to his feet, his brushed his hands over his bottom, “I guess that is really all I have to say,” he voiced, circling around the veil and approaching the lone symbol.

Dropping to his knees, he examined the simple, two hand sized depressions inside. Leaning forward, he placed his hands in the hollow. A jolt of electricity shot up his arms coupled with a brilliant flash of light blinding his vision followed by a tremendous clap like thunder, the force throwing him backward and knocking the wind from his lungs when he landed. Despite the calamitous noise, he distinctly heard the sound of her breath as she drew in air.

Struggling back to his feet, the curtain of energy around her was gone and the chamber settled in gloom. The little light there was, seemed to be coming from around her. As the ringing in his ears subsided, he could her soft breathing, see the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

Moving forward to where the boundary of the veil had been, he reached out with a tentative hand. Encountering nothing, he moved closer to her, greeted by a subtle floral essence. At her feet, he raised a trembling hand to touch the side of her foot, the pale unmarred skin silky smooth. Circling around her right foot, he approached the binding near her ankle, the faint light illuminating the rune work on the beads. Using the safety pin, he pried into the knots holding her feet together. Little by little and with persistent effort, he unraveled the weave and liberated her feet.

Mopping his sweat dampened brow, “One down,” he murmured, moving up her right side. Climbing up her arm to her midsection, her flesh slightly cool under his feet, he approached her folded hands. Again using the safety pin to dig into the leather tie, he loosened the bonds. Getting them out from under her wrists was far more difficult. Sliding the draw up to the hollow under her wrists, he used his legs against her arm as leverage and finally pulled the binding free.

Not sure what exactly to expect, whether she might rouse slowly or become instantly alert, nothing happened. Walking over her stomach and through the hollow between her breasts, he looked at her face. Spreading his hands, “Now what? If I am the key, where is the lock,” he paused, glancing back over his shoulder across her tummy to the swell of her mons. “Oh,” he said bluntly, walking back down her body to her genitals.

Looking down upon the impeccability of her sex, he grinned then chuckled. Turning his head to the side to look back up toward her head, “Wouldn’t it be hilarious if all it took was some kind of Sleeping Beauty type kiss and instead I planted a smacker here. Talk about awkward.” Rather than risk earning her displeasure or anger, he moved back up to her head and pulled himself onto her face. Getting down on his hands and knees, he pressed his lips against the soft tissue of her bottom lip. Nothing. He kissed her again. Nothing.

Standing back up, he jumped down to her throat and scampered back to her downstairs area. Hesitating, he looked back to her. “If I am wrong and this turn out to be some type of molestation, I apologize in advance. You didn’t exactly give me a lot to go on,” he offered, hoping it was enough of a disclaimer.

Lying down on his stomach, “Volat sicut ad proterva tenera puerorum, et nos sumus in deos,” he said in Latin before tracing his fingers over the delicate tissue under him.

The Goddess

Instantly, the flesh under Oliver began to respond, growing warm as the labia majora parted slightly, revealing the rosy pink interior. “Well I’ll be dipped in honey,” he said nonchalantly. Given that her legs were together, he knew it was going to require a Herculean effort to gain access to her inner being.

The flesh was pliant, but the density made it exceedingly difficult for his tiny body and limited strength. If only she could part her legs a little more, or tilt her pelvis. “A little help would go a long way,” he growled, wedged between the labia minora near the vaginal orifice. Persisting, little by little, he insinuated himself into her feet first until he was embedded up to his navel. Panting from exertion, he took a few moments to catch his wind. Trying to get a little deeper, he encountered something under his feet, lodged near what he believed to be her cervix. “What is that?” he asked, trying to get some measure of the sizable object with his feet. Whatever it was, it felt smooth and round, about the size of a small beach ball. Despite being buried the furnace of her body, whatever it was felt incredibly cold. Trying to get his legs around whatever it was though proved an exercise in futility.

Undulating his body downward, he brought his shoulders through the opening of her vagina, fingers trying to grasp the smooth object, but it was too slippery and just rolled under his hands. Altering his strategy, he pushed his entire body inside of her, sliding to the side and under the object. Feet against her cervix, he wrapped his arms under the spherical object, suffering the cold as pushed himself back up, chest and shoulder emerging out of her hole revealing the reward for his effort, a perfect sphere of polished jet.

Examining the featureless ebon orb and rolling it in his hands, the surface so cold it felt like it burned the tips of his fingers. “Talk about the ultimate peach pit,” he chuckled. Giving it a heave to the side, gravity finished the task and it rolled off her onto the smooth stone floor.

The moment the object broke contact with her skin something happened. Instantly, she jerked into an upright position. The movement so swift it caught Oliver by surprise and immediately her abdominal muscles clenched his three quarters embedded body and dragged him back entirely inside her.

The force within her was unbearable as the walls enveloping crushed down on him from all sides. White spots danced before Oliver’s eyes as he fought to breathe. The walls bore down on him and he felt as though his bones might break. Something grabbed his left arm, tugging forcefully at it. He felt himself drawn up and out of her then he was swinging free, mouth open and desperately gulping air.

Laying his tiny body face up in the palm of her left hand, she smiled down upon him. Those astounding sunset colored eyes luminous and filling him with peace. “Oliver,” she said warmly, her voice soft and wonderful tinged with a whisper of an accent he could notplace.

Gazing up at her, words failed him.

“All is well,” she soothed, reaching to him with her free hand and caressing the side of his face, the touch sending electrical shivers down the length of his spine.

“I don’t know what to call you,” he babbled.

She paused a moment, expression pensive as if in contemplation, thoughtful, “Selene shall suffice,” she supplied.

“Selene,” Oliver repeated. “I like that.”

Getting to her feet, Oliver still in hand, she looked down at the obsidian sphere on the floor. Using her foot, she pushed it as far away as the chamber would permit. Stepping back from the round stone, she made a gesture with her free hand and the grating noise of stone and earth filled the chamber.

Oliver watched in rapt awe as the earth parted, reconstructing itself like a spiral set off stairs leading up toward the open air.

Holding Oliver close to her body, she ascended the stairs, stopping at the top. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, sampling the fresh air

While waiting, “You are probably going to need some clothes,” Oliver recommended, noting her sublime nakedness.

She regarded him with a quizzical look.

“I am sure a whole lot has probably changed since the last time you were out and about,” Oliver commented.

Squinting in the late morning sun, Selene nodded slowly, “Undoubtedly.”

“You are going to need clothes,” he repeated. Standing up in her palm, Oliver scanned the surrounding wilderness. “Thomasin should be somewhere near,” he advised.

Unsure how long the process could, should, might take, Thomasin resolved herself to stay as long as necessary despite the incessant buzzing of flies and other insects pestering her. Slapping her neck for the umpteenth time, she muttered under her breath. Why were the insects so bloodthirsty? She wondered if perhaps some enchantment might have been lain over the area to keep curiosity seekers away. Looking down at her right hand, she spied three mosquitos in mid suck. Slapping her hand and leaving crimson streaks, she cursed under her breath. Wiping the remnants of dead mosquito remains from her left hand against the side of an Eastern Hemlock tree, she looked at the discolored white bumps appearing on her right hand.

From else place amongst the dense thicket surrounding the pond, she heard an unusual sound. Cocking her head to the side, she strained to listen. Were there bears in Nova Scotia? Some other animal? Either way she felt compelled to at least investigate or if need be, defend Oliver. Edging in the direction of the noise, an odd calm settled over the area. Thomasin stopped; all the insects were gone and everything possessed an eerie quietude. Pressing forward through the brush, she stopped short spying a nude woman standing in the open space amidst a copse of trees. The radiant grace, beauty, and sheer physical presence of the woman overwhelmed Thomasin. Dropping to her knees, “Goddess,” she said reverently.

Turning her head slightly to the side, Selene looked down on the woman, brow narrowing.

“Thomasin,” Oliver introduced hastily. “She’s a friend and without her, you would still be in the ground.”

“Please forgive my transgressions great goddess,” Thomasin pleaded.

Nodding slowly, “You may rise,” Selene permitted. Turning to her side and indicating the newly created path leading into the earth, “There is a little obsidian colored sphere in there, fetch it if you will,” Selene requested.

Nodding, Thomasin got to her feet and quickly descended the stairs. As she neared the bottom, she took out her phone and brought up her flashlight. Spotting the orb on the stone floor, she scooped it up. Startled by the surprisingly chill temperature, she rolled it in her palm.

Thomasin reappeared, “I have it Mistress,” she said, extending the hand with the absolute black sphere toward the goddess.

Selene shook her head, free hand extended in a warding off gesture, “Be cautious, it is a void stone. It must be contained,” she warned.

Oliver made a little face, “That was, um, inside,” he said, making an up-and-under motion with his hand.

Selene smiled, “As were you,” she added.

Oliver blushed.

“I have some spare clothes back at the car. We’re fairly close in size. They should fit,” Thomasin offered.

The Times, They Are a-Changin’

Still keeping possession of Oliver in her hand, Selene seemed unperturbed moving through the forested area naked, stopping here and there to touch or smell different plants and species of trees.

Emerging from the bush near the rear of the car, Selene stopped, eyes on the Chevy Malibu parked off the side of the dirt road. “What manner of conveyance is this?” she asked, wonder in her violet colored eyes.

“It’s a car, an automobile,” Thomasin replied, using the key fob to disengage the trunk.

Walking next to passenger side, Selene trailed the fingers of her free hand over the Northsky Blue Metallic paint. “Astounding,” she remarked.

In the trunk, Thomasin opened her luggage and deposited the void stone before pulling out a pair of slacks, panties, and a blouse. Looking at the perfection of Selene’s breasts, she figured the goddess more than likely did not require a brassiere’s support. Handing the clothes toward Selene, “With what you did to get out of the ground, do you think you it possible to restore Oliver?” she asked.

Handing Oliver to Thomasin, Selene accepted the clothes, fingers feeling the textures. “It is not that simple. The movement of the planet generates considerable energy. Using that, I channeled the latent energy to transform the ground into stairs. It is much more complex with Oliver’s situation and it requires significant precision,” she replied, a puzzled expression on her face as she examined the panties.

Closing the trunk, Thomasin mimed donning the underwear.

Nodding, Selene copied her, slipping on the panties then slacks followed by the shirt. “The under garment is confining,” she complained.

“It’s a thong,” Thomasin replied, moving to the passenger side of the rental car and demonstrating how to use the handle to open the door.

Getting Selene into the car and strapped in, Thomasin handed Oliver back to her and got in on the other side.

Marveling at the interior of the automobile, “The craftsmanship is truly phenomenal,” the goddess commented appreciatively.

“I suppose I have no right to ask, but I am very curious about who put you in the ground? It looks like whoever it was, they put considerable effort into making sure you couldn’t get out,” Oliver said.

Shaking her head, Selene’s face darkened, “I was betrayed by two of my sisters,” she replied in a low voice.

“Why did they do that to you?” Oliver questioned.

“That is a tale for another time,” she replied, voice cool.

Rather than provoke her, Oliver changed directions. “How did you inhabit Larissa?”

“A geological disturbance fractured the altar stone, temporarily disrupting part of the spell holding me,” she answered, distracted by the passing scenery outside the car.

Recollecting the crack across the smooth floor, he presumed that is what she was referencing.

Looking up and over to Thomasin, “You know we might have a bit of an issue trying to get her across the border,” he commented.

Without bothering to look down, “I thought about that,” Thomasin replied. “We could fly domestically in Canada to Abbotsford, British Columbia. I have a contact in the area. We could try to cross the border into Washington State there. Bellingham is just across the line and we could fly the rest of the way from there,” she suggested.

“Like put her in the trunk of the car kind of thing?” he asked.

Thomasin shrugged, “We have moved a handful of liberated males through there,” she countered.

“Cam said he was originally from Bellingham, meaning there might be an Omega Pi presence, namely his mother, there on point for anything or anyone out of the ordinary there,” he offered.

“I’m not sure, Sharon Crawford’s mother Eleanor does not seem particularly enamored with Edith Frost which is why we were exploring inviting Sersei into the fold,” Thomasin replied.

Shaking his head, “Sersei is tried and true Omega Pi. It would be like inviting a fox into the henhouse,” he replied.

“I don’t think we orchestrated this part of the plan very well. I should contact Agnes,” she stated. Pressing the green phone symbol on the steering wheel of the car, “Call Agnes,” she instructed.

“Calling Agnes,” announced the car in a female voice, the response putting a look of consternation on Selene’s face.

Looking down at Oliver, “Whence came that voice?” she asked. Startled when the car’s speakers made a ringing sound.

Raising his hands, “It’s okay, it’s just Bluetooth,” Oliver soothed,

Selene frowned.

“Thomasin, it is good to hear from you. What news?” the disembodied voice of Agnes inquired.

Shaking her head and frowning, “I find this most distressing,” remarked Selene.

“Who is that?” Agnes asked.

“That is Selene,” Thomasin answered, glancing at the woman and giving her a smile.

There was a moment of silence.

“What has happened?” the goddess asked.

“Blessed Goddess,” Agnes addressed, voice filled with respect. “My name is Agnes York and I am your most humble servant.”

“Where is this woman?” Selene questioned.

Seeing the perplexed expression on Selene’s face, “Agnes is far away from here in a place called California. We are able to use devices called telephones that allow us to communicate with one another across vast distances,” Oliver explained, knowing that someway, somehow he and Thomasin were going to have to give Selene a crash course on the technologies of the modern world.

“Things appear to splintering rapidly throughout the sorority. I have had a number of sisters from other chapters reach out in the wake of the dissolution of all the Weeping Stones. While there is considerable confusion, I believe it is imperative for Selene to come here. According to Vesper, Edith seems to have absorbed a considerable amount of power and may have had an unforeseen effect on her,” Agnes explained.

Raising his voice to be heard, “Problem is Selene has absolutely no identification. We can’t even board a plane here let alone cross the border,” Oliver stated.

“Alright,” Agnes relayed. “I will see what arrangements we can make from our end.” With that, she expressed gratitude to Selene and ended the call.

“I think we need to find a library or something to try and expose her to knowledge,” Oliver offered.

Thomasin nodded in agreement.

Becoming animated, “Wait, your phone, we could use your phone to teach her about now,” he suggested.

“In my purse,” Thomasin replied.