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A Man of His Time

By NFalc


11
Personal


"I'd forgotten what meat tasted like," Raymond says as he picks up the hunk of turkey he'd carved for himself. He takes a small bite of it, chewing slowly, as if trying to analyze whether or not it's real. "Back when we still lived in villages, they'd give us cans of beef or turkey, smothered in preservatives. This, however... This has to be the best thing I've ever eaten."

"I've actually never had meat before," Dustin says. Raymond looks at him with renewed interest. "I'm Plant-born, one of the earlier models," Dustin explains. "Raised on synthetics."

"Garbage," Raymond says. "You were raised on garbage. Eat up, man. This is the best moment of your life so far."

"No," He says very seriously. "The best moment was meeting you two."

"Come on," I say. "Don't say that, that's just sad."

"I mean it. If you hadn't picked me for the team, Adam, I'd still be another face in the crowd, constantly worrying about being singled out by Cheryl or Toni. You did a great thing for me."

"And you saved our lives," I reply. "I had to pay you back somehow."

Raymond put a finger to his lips, and nodded his head outwards. There were clicking sounds booming around the room.

A few days ago, I would have been terrified at the idea of a woman entering the room I was in. It would have meant certain doom. Now that I was in Cheryl's care, I was more relaxed, almost to the point of not caring. Who did I have to be afraid of?

As if in answer to my question, Toni entered the kitchen. She walked in, swinging her purse, and sat down at the table. I felt myself shiver, remembering the last time I'd seen her up close. Now she was simply picking at her nails, not looking at us, acting like she didn't notice us. I half-hoped that she didn't.

Then she looked up, and made direct eye contact with me. I kept my eyes wide open, willing myself not to flinch. She leaned over, her huge frame pushing the table slightly as she did so. The three of us were sitting, and weren't knocked down, but the effect was still terrifying.

"Hello there," she said in that cutesy voice of hers, the voice I'd come to hate whenever I heard it around the house. "What are you little guys doing?"

To my surprise, Dustin stands up. "Leave us alone, Toni," he says. "Your mom wants us alive."

Toni's lips curl into a pout once more. The spoiled brat. I'm both happy Dustin said what he did and terrified of what will happen because of it.

"Who said anything about killing?" Toni asks after a moment of thought. "I just want to play." And with that, she reaches forward and wraps her massive hand around Dustin.

She lifts him forty feet into the air, until he's dangling right before her enormous face. "Let's see, what shall we play?" she says tauntingly, as she waves him side to side.
Dustin kicks and thrashes, but can't get out of her grip. I realize that's a good thing, though, as the fall from that height would surely kill him.

"I've got it," Toni says. "We'll play hide and go seek. I'll hide you, and your friends will seek you!"

She turns away from us, thumb positioned over his mouth to smother his cries, and moves her hands over her body, hiding him away somewhere around her. I shudder at the thought of what was happening to him, and then guiltily realize that the shudder wasn't entirely out of fear.

"Okay, boys, move out of the way," She says, spreading her hands and pushing us each to a different side of the table. Her palm slams into me like a truck with a mattress strapped to its front. Once we are separated, she turns and lies down on the table, her massive form causing the table to creak and shake beneath us. It is an awe-inspiring sight.

"Time to seek," She says, her voice containing the barest hint of a threat.

"Young lady," booms a voice from above. "What are you doing spread-eagled on my kitchen table?" Cheryl. Thank God. This isn't the first time I've been grateful to hear her voice.

"Sorry mom," Toni says quickly in a voice she must think sounds innocent. She fumbles at her breasts as if she were doing it unconsciously, but I realize that she must be trying to get Dustin out before her mother sees what she's done.

Cheryl, however, is looking straight at the table. "Where's the third one?" she asks. "There were three on the table."

Toni stops fumbling and puts her hands at her sides. "I don't know," she lies boldly. "It's not like I'm responsible for them."

Cheryl merely extends her hand. Toni stares back at her, and in her eyes there's a sudden, smoldering rage. She's even more dangerous than I thought she was.

A minute passes before Toni reaches into her blouse, plucks Dustin out and places him none too gently in her mother's palm. "Keep your hands off these three," Cheryl says evenly, "Or you will be in more trouble than you've ever seen in your life."

Toni stalks off without saying a word. Cheryl lowers Dustin back down to the table. "I'm sorry, guys," she says, leaning down to speak with us more intimately. "She doesn't know how to control herself."

"It's okay," Dustin shouts back up at her, as he steps back onto the table. "No harm done." And amazingly, none has. Dustin looks fine, with no visible cuts or bruises. He's even smiling.

Cheryl returns the smile. "Great. Enjoying the food? Eat up, because you have a busy day today. You three are going to be coordinating some projects I've had in mind for a while..."


"I can't help but feel like I'm working for the enemy," Raymond says as he watches ten men heaving a piece of plywood.

"These are things that would have happened if we were here or not," I reply. "We're just getting the benefits from putting them into motion. Plus, think of all the things we've done for the Underground. There's a bug in each room in this house, all of them well-placed. They'll be able to track everything the Establishment does."

Raymond nods thoughtfully. "I guess. Maybe I just have some sort of guilt complex." He turns to a straggler who is sitting on a pile of plywood. "You, over there! Go help the others get that third wall in place. You're going to live in this building, it's up to you to make sure it looks good."

Dustin finishes placing a segment of the floor, then walks over to us, wiping sweat from his brow. "This thing is starting to come together," he says.

"Yeah," I reply. "If every job is as easy as this, we'll be living comfortably until it's time for the Underground to pick us up."

"About that," Raymond asks. "How, exactly, do we plan to make our escape now that Cheryl knows who we are, and watches us closely?"

I hadn't thought about that. Too focused on the present, not enough on the future. It reminded me of how I was ignoring my other plans as well. "We'll get to it when the time comes," I say, trying to sound sure of myself. "We'll find a way."

Dustin looks slightly nervous. "Um, about that escape..."

"Don't worry, Dustin, you're coming with us." Raymond says. "After all we've done together, it would be cruel of us not to bring you along. And we leave the cruelty to the girls."

I get a sudden feeling I'm being watched, and turn to see Cheryl's enormous bare feet behind me, her dark red nails polished to perfection as always. I wonder how much of our conversation she heard. "This looks like it's moving along nicely, boys," she says from her position high above our heads.

I can't see her face, couldn't even if I craned my head. As I look up, however, I notice she's changed outfits. She's wearing a tight black top, and well-cut jeans.

"We should have some men living in the kitchen in no time. I'm sure I'll be able to find endless uses for them there."

"Happy to help," I call up. What was that? Am I trying to curry favor? We already are her favorites. Surely, I couldn't have meant what I said...

"There are other jobs we need to work on though. Hop on," she says as she kneels and lowers her hand, palm up, to the ground. We do as we're told. Her palm is even softer than normal, and smells like lotion. She carries us to the bathroom, opens up the mirror cabinet filled with men. She speaks to the crowd. "Today, you little ones are going to learn a new skill, one which may be taught in the Plants. Raymond and Dustin, here, will show you how to do it safely."

She brings us level with her face, and whispers, "You remember that little seminar I gave you two on oral hygiene?" Raymond and Dustin nod. "Tell it to them, and make sure you tell it well. If they screw up, they'll die, and I lose more men that way. The guilt would fall on your heads, not mine."

Raymond nods. "Don't worry, m'am, we remember. We'll teach it to them."

She whispers, "James, you stay with me. I've got another task for you." Then the hand is lowering down to level with the bottom shelf. Raymond and Dustin skillfully jump off, landing neatly on the shelf. Then I'm rising up away from them, and we turn away, and Cheryl walks to a room I'm completely unfamiliar with.

There are no men in this room. The walls are covered in dark red wallpaper. The bed is a four-poster made from dark wood, the sheets are black. There's some odd quality to it, that makes it look like nothing I've ever seen before. Cheryl places me on the bed. I wonder what it is she wants me to do.

"I come here when I want a little privacy," Cheryl says. "Everywhere else in my house, people are free to roam. But only I have the key to this room. Not even Toni knows about it. These are my truly private quarters."

I look around, and realize that the room has no other furniture than the bed and a dim lamp in the corner.

Cheryl walks around to the front of the bed, then arches her back, stretching and sighing. "It's been a long time since I've come in here. Now that Toni's out of the house so often, I can do whatever I want, even in the living room, without fear of her seeing it. But, every so often, it's nice to just have one of you, and me, in a room together. By ourselves."

Why hadn't I realized it sooner? It should have been obvious from the minute we entered. This room was designed for just one thing. And it was clear who she would be doing it with today.

Cheryl slowly, teasingly eases out of her She then climbs onto the bed, going onto all fours. She still looms high above me as she crawls over the black satin sheets, her eyes locked on me. "Did anyone ever tell you how cute you are, James?" Cheryl purrs, coming slowly closer. "Because you are cute. Even handsome. Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise."

She comes closer. I don't know what to do, don't know what I'm doing, what I'm getting myself into. She begins to shrug herself out of her jeans, revealing firm thighs and red silk bikini underwear. "You have an eye for detail, James, you know how to get the job done. What if your job was to make love to me? Could you do it as well?"

She doesn't even know my real name. She's evil, she's one of them, a member of the Establishment. Hundreds, maybe thousands of men have died at those pretty hands. It doesn't work. I'm still stiff, fixated on her, almost bursting out of my pants. As if in a trance, I slip out of my clothes, and lay them beside me.

Still, she comes closer, her huge breasts barely contained by the bikini top as they pass over my head, larger than life. Then I'm staring up at her flat, smooth stomach, and finally at her silk-covered crotch. Her massive hands stroll down her chest and over her belly, until they find their way to the silk straps and tug them out of place, revealing her. Trimmed but not shaven. She's a natural redhead.

Thighs the size of buildings lower, and I can feel the warmth from her pussy above me as it comes nearer. I'm completely surrounded by her, she overpowers me. I have no choice but to surrender to her.

A soft hand slides under me, and carries me upwards, into her. If I squirm, it is not out of resistance, but pleasure. She enjoys it, too, as I climb or burrow into her, up or down no longer matter. Sensations bleed into one another. Sweet, warm, wet. I have never lost myself like this before.

Given in to her, I feel my self become meaningless. I'm a part of her, this enormous, stronger, more beautiful being. If this is what surrender feels like, if this is what it feels like then...

falling downwards into soft warm nothingness and i'm lying inside of her but next to her and who am I next to?

It's Kyra. Or is it Mary? The faces blur, shift from one to the other, but the body remains the same, and the body is my size, normal size. She's no longer huge. We lie next to each other, and it's with dream clarity that I know: we've just made love (but not to her).

Then there is a rumbling beneath my feet, and we no longer lie in nothingness, but in the middle of a street, main street. My old city once again. We returned here to live together and be happy forever after (but who's we? and how can you be happy?).

Then I stand up and see the crowds behind me, pushing and shoving away from us, struggling to get away. A man pushes through them, then he's there right with us, Raymond. "We have to go," he says. "It's time to leave." He takes my arm, his grip like steel, and pulls, but I have to take Kyra/Mary, and she isn't moving, she won't come.

It's too late anyway. The shadow is rising over us, covering us. The foot, but it's different. Bare, and so many times larger than before. Each toe rises up into the heavens, tall as a skyscraper. Her big toe moves over us, and it covers the city, blocking out all sunlight. Still, her toes pass over us, down to those soft soles that spread vast above us like the sky.

When they come down, there is nothing left. Raymond didn't survive. Neither did I. Your life afterwards is just a dream. A dream...


And I'm floating back towards consciousness, lying on satin sheets, sticky and feeling the afterglow die away. I lie between Cheryl's thighs, and think about how we made love. It feels like years ago.

I let Cheryl's hand slide under me once more, let it carry me over her and bring me to her lips, and press me against them. "It's been an hour since you fell asleep. They'll wonder where you are. We have to get going."

She slowly comes to an upright position at the side of the bed, then puts me down on the tableside, where I notice a small bottle of water. "We have to get you cleaned up. Are you ready?" I nod, and she pours a small stream down from the bottle, which slides over me, cleaning off the traces of our time together. They puddle at my feet. I take a minute to let myself dry, then pull my clothes back on, and step back onto Cheryl's waiting palm.


"I have one more task for you three today," she says, once we're clustered in her palm and she's walking. "My shoes need polishing. I trust you know how to do this?"

Raymond and Dustin nod, and although I've never polished shoes in my life, I nod as well. She thinks I'm so capable, why spoil that thought? She loves me because I do my job well, and I can't let her think otherwise.

She sets us down and opens the door to a closet. Inside, I see thirty or so pairs of shoes lining the floor. "With the three of you working together, this should take you, let's say... two hours? I'll come back then and check on your progress."

She sets us on the ground and walks away, closing the door to the closet behind us. The shoes stretch out for a mile in each direction, so many of them, each of them the size of a bus.

"Better get to work," I say.

I watch Raymond and Dustin as they go about polishing, try to imitate what they do. It seems to work, as the surface of the shoe gleams after I finish with my first. It's only when I finish that I notice that Raymond is on his fourth, and Dustin his fifth. I'll have to speed up.

This is no easy task, especially when it comes to the high heels, which require me to shimmy up the heel in order to hang one-handed from the lip of the shoe, polishing as I carefully shift my weight along.

Luckily, Dustin seems fairly expert at polishing, as he's completed half of them by himself after an hour and a half. I jump down off the high heel I'm working on, somersaulting to the floor. I call out, "Guys, let's meet in the front!"

They join me at the edge of the closet, rags draped over their shoulders. They look tired and are greasy with polish, but look pleased with themselves for a job well done.

"How much have we finished?" I ask.

"I did everything to the left of those flats, except a couple in the back" says Dustin.

"I did all the ones to the right," Raymond replies.

"So that leaves a few in the back left," I finish. "I'll take those, you two wait here 'till I'm done." I'll prove to her that I can get the job done.

I wander through the towering pairs of shoes, admiring the curves and thinking of how Cheryl's feet will look in them. They all look polished, neat and shining. I envy Dustin's skills. He works both fast and well.

By the time I'm getting towards the back, I still haven't seen any shoes that need polishing, and I start to wonder if Dustin was making it up. It's only when I get all the way to the corner that I see them.

The shock hits me in waves, first leaving me completely unable to move, unable to think. This can't be. My brain comes to a grinding halt. Then as it begins to start up again, I stumble towards one, putting a hand out to feel the leather. It's real. It's here. These are the ones. There can be no doubt.

I resist the urge to scream, to yell myself hoarse. I feel like I want to explode. I feel like I'm going to collapse.

I sink to the carpeted ground, going limp with the realization of everything this means. Then I get to my feet and run, run as fast as my legs can carry me, back to Raymond.
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