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dystopia-fantasy · 3 years

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Always read the job description -Part 1

Max was a fit, well built man. He had been body building since he was 14 and now In his early 40s he has the body of a god, but is slowly getting to the age when he needs to find another way to make money. He knows he can't take part in his competitions anymore, and needs to take it easy. He got great grades in school and college, proving people wrong that you can't be a nerd in a jock body.

Max had some money saved and was able to keep up on bills for a few months but needed a job to keep his large house, in the rich area of the city. He got a call from a business he applied to a couple of days ago, telling him to go in for an interview tomorrow, and if it goes well he will be sent straight on a trip for the company. He gets his new blue suit ready to be worn the next day.

The morning arrives, it's 5am, and Max wakes. He does his normal morning routine, making breakfast, working out, taking a shower, then gets his suit on ready for his early morning interview. Driving to the office building in the middle of New York, it's at least 50 stories high, and is made of mostly glass, and is one of the newest modern builds in the city.

On arrival a large man in his late 60s wearing a suit greets him, "hello sir, you must be max, Sir Mammon is on his way down to collect you, may I say what an amazing suit you have on today".

Max looks the man up and down, seeing the man's huge belly flowing out from under his dress shirt, showing a massive W shape, "thanks mate, you might want a bigger shirt" then points to his belly.

"sorry if I offended you sir, but all clothing has been chosen by Sir Mammon himself" Mammon is the big boss of the business "if you would like to make a complaint I can print you a form".

Max laughs, "No thanks, I'm gonna sit over there, tell Mammon im there".

"will do sir, have a great day" the man says while max walks away paying no more attention to him.

About 15 minutes later a young handsome slender man walks over. "Max is it?" He says behind Max.

"yes.." max says confused.

"I'm Mammon, nice to meet you" he smiles holding his hand out for a shake.

"oh hello Mammon, is wasn't expecting someone so young, no offence of course" max shaking his hand.

Mammon let's out a little laugh, with a little grin "it's ok max, people don't expect someone like me to own such a remarkable company like this one would you like to follow me, we can go up to my office, this is Mark by the way, he's my Butler". Mark is another large man aged around 50, he has a massive belly stuffed into his suit, hes huffing and puffing, like he ran a marithon, "don't mind him, most of my staff are..."

Max cuts him off "fat?"

They both laugh, "you could say that Max" the elevator arrives and they all walk in, "now max, you did read the whole advertisement correct?".

Max didn't, it's was 48 pages long, who would read it all? He just looked at the wage he would get, it started at $100,000 per month. "Yes, I did".

"that's good, most guys are more keen to keep their body's but I guess if your struggling you'll do anything."

Max now confused just nod's and watches though the glass elevator as they fly up to the top floor.

"where here sir" Mark the butler says peacefully in his British accent.

They walk into the room, and Mammon sits at his desk pouring himself a glass of wisky, and Max one too. Max looks around in aww, the room was covered in art work, with the walls painted in golds and whites and had its own bar. "How do you have all this money?" Max asked.

"a mix of many things, this company, and a few investments paid for this whole building, I have many other ways but we're not here for that." Mammon points at the seat," take a seat max" Max sits the chair is made from leather and is very comfy. "So, max, I've gone through your file, I think you're perfect for the job."

"so, does that mean I have the job?" Max replies confused, expecting to be asked a question.

"well yes, if you agree to the terms"

"terms?" Max still confused.

"well yes, you expect to be paid 10times the amount the normal person for this job without any terms or conditions?"

"well I didn't know.." Max gets cut off.

"Max let me simplify them for you. You sacrifice your body to the company, and in trade you get, $100k X the amount you weigh paid into your account per month, So if you weigh 450lbs, you get $450k a month."

"what the fuck? That's sick, I'm not doing that, I'm leaving" and with that Max got up from the chair and stood face to face with Mammon, with the desk all that is separating them. "Your sick, you fa**ot".

With that Mammon's eyes glow a bright red. "I'm a what?" Max got through back against the chair by an invisible force. "Max you could have just left with your freedom, but now look what you've gotten yourself into".

"Let me go, What the fuck?" Max says while traped against that chair, it chreeking with the force of his muscle.

"I'm a fucking demon max, I'm never going to 'let you go'" he took a second break to mock max, "now, what did you say? Fa**ot, was it?".

"fuck, I didn't mean it" the force pins him down harder, trapping his arms against the leather chair arms, and pushing his legs against the underboard. "Please let me go home, I won't do it again."

"shut up max, the process is already starting".

Max looks down to see his body deflating, his pecs turning from mountain peaks to a flat surface, his giant powerful arms turning weak and light. And then looking up he sees a whole new man infront of him.

"Not as big as I thought I would get, but boy I'm big" he took a break to admire his new giant arms and pecs.

"what the?" Max looks in confusion, "how did you do that? Give me them back".

"what are you gonna do max? I'm an infinitely powerful being and you, your an old man, or at least your going to be."

"I'm only 42, what do you mean, going to be?"

"you see I don't have my infinite life span on earth, so to stay alive and in this fit body, I absorb anything a guy has and I want. In your case, these massive muscles, but then I need to absorb their life force as well, in order to make sure I don't age."

"what do you mean life force?"

"well, you have roughly 50 years, worth of life left, I'll drain about 20 years leaving you in your future crippled body at around age 60, force you to work for the company for another 20 years, then when your 80 drain the rest of your life, which after you get fat won't be much, then you got to hell."

"man your sick, let me go, LET ME GO!".

A bright red light shoots from Peters hand enveloping Max's whole body, and he starts to age, his face wrinkling, skin dropping, eye sight worsening, hearing getting muffled, and mind changing a little. "Max, you ok old man?".

"yes sir" max was confused in his mind, why did he say sir?

"max, you ready for your Cruise? You can have tones of food for the next 6 months."

"Yes sir, I'm ready" max lifts his head, opening his eyes to see a new blurry room from his new old eyes.

"you're gonna need these from now on" Peters eyes glow and a new pair of glasses appear on Max's face he can now see clear.

"thank you... Sir", max blinks seeing Peter infront of him, "what have you, done to me".

"Max, I've turned you into the perfect office worker, old, brainiac, who is soon going to get fat and live the rest of his life, in an office chair for me, don't worry for accomodation you live here now, we have apartments on floor 30 to 40, all workers live here, it's policy, we have also sent a team to your house to, well, blow it up, that way nobody is going to be looking for you, becuase we can plant a body"

"give me... My.... Body back, give me... My.. life back."

"Max we both know that will never happen, now enjoy a life of gluttony, and prepare yourself for hell, that's gonna be worse then anything I can do to you." Peter snaped his fingers and a red glow enveloped max.

Recovering from the glow max sees two men infront of him with a trolly of sorts between them. "Is he awake" one says,

"I don't know" said the other.

"im- awake" max said in a much older raspy voice.

"good we can now start the feeding" the man on the left said, his body as muscled as a god, ripped from head to toe, and we can see everything.

Max rubs his eyes under his glasses and opens them again, "Fucking hell, put some clothes on both of you".

Both men where nude, one a ripped god, another muscled up but with a big gut. "Clothes are banned here mate" the beefy man said in a type of Australia accent, "you cant say much fella, look at that tiny pecker".

The men laughed pointing at Max's shriveled up old cock and low hanging balls, "what the fuck"max tries to move his arm to cover him but his arm doesn't move, he looks down to see him stuck in a chair, with a cut out hole under his ass, and straps tying him down, trapping him. "What... Are you gonna do to me?" Max asked sceared.

The men laughed at him again, "no need to act to sceared, we're here to feed you for the next 6 months".

"but... Sir said..." Max get cut off.

"he said you'd be going on a cruise? Fucking hell are you dumb? He's a demon, you shouldn't trust a demon" The muscled guy says.

"bro let's start the feeding we have 50 other guys to see and I wanna watch football Tonight." The beefy guys says, and in unison both their eyes glowed a bright red, showing they where demons too.

The trolly between them had several items on top, one long tube, which floated in the air for a few moments before shoving itself down maxes nostril and deep into his stomach, his head flipped back trying to wriggle it out, but it was stuck. Another item moved into his frame, a IV bag holder, holding a giant barrel type object made of glass, and two large bags floated of the table again and started to drain into the barrel, and the tube connected itself to it, starting a flow of the liquid into maxes stomach.

"done" the beffy guy said. "Now we'll be back tomorrow to refill your barrel, and clean you up if you make a mess, but youll basically be unconscious for the next 6 months, due to the drugs were feeding you."

"so enjoy your sleep mate, you'll litterally wake up a different man." The two men laughed and walked out, max tried fighting the restraints but in his crippled form could do nothing. The door slammed and locked, and the room fell dark, max screamed begging into the darkness to be let free, and to have his life back, which he had only an hour before, but nothing happened, nobody came. He felt the drugs taking effect, but tried to fight back, but it was useless, his body slumped and loosened. His mind fell blank as he drifted of into his 6 month hibernation.

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rivka-kopelman · 3 years

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Delivery Lemur Logbook : 7

December 32nd, 3431

Rainy night. Hi I am Delivery Lemur (deliveremur). I stopped at Luzlork to deposit my compost and hopefully get some cheap groceries. There was a great sale on algae cakes here last year (the triangle kind), so I often stop by but never see the same deal. No luck tonight either. I just know if I buy a pack at full price, they'll go on discount tomorrow. The drizzle became a deluge and I got drenched (buy an umbrella). It turned out not to be a wasted trip though: As I'm hurrying back through the port, a voice bubbles up from the submerged side of the amphibious road and gives me a box to deliver. The customer, invisible in the downpour and the gloom, said it was urgent that this parcel get to defense minister Franz Welker right away. “Blub – he will – blub – reward you generously – blub blub.” Good enough for me. Mission accepted.

I hop aboard my ship, trying not to drip water everywhere but tons of rain comes through the hatch with me. I put the parcel down on the counter and start the launch sequence. At its point in orbit right now, the capital is Luzlork's nearest neighbor so I should be able to find this defense minister guy in no time. After dialing in the coordinates, I lean over the sink to start wringing out my fur. The live broadcast of my favorite podcast, 'It's Bullshit: Forever Countdown' comes on.

“Hello everyone ~ This time on It's Bullshit: Forever Countdown we have with us Willy Wows'em, who makes up unsolvable crossword puzzles on his website ~ wwwww.EazyCrozzwords.lmao ~ Willy your number is 50505050505123412341234123400505050505, good luck!”

“One, two, three, hehehe, four, five, six, hehehehehehe...”

Before he gets to 50, I'm faxed by border agents. They say every ship coming into the capital system's airspace has to be searched. I'm asked to power down my engine. The order looks like it was written in crayon. Well, I guess I'll comply. I can probably ask them for directions. I turn my engine off. An antique skiff arrives a minute later and latches on to my airlock.

I'm still in the process of drying off as six human brats stumble aboard, all in pink & white Space Military uniforms. They're armed to the teeth.

“Uh, identification please,” the oldest one said. I give him a limp wet Delivery Lemur business card from my pocket. The kid examines it critically.

“This is wet, I can barely read it. Deli Lender?”

“I'm Delivery Lemur (deliveremur) not Deli Lender,” I explain. I start looking for another business card. “I've got mail for your boss. Do you know where Mr. Welker is?”

“You mean Dad? We don't know. Uh, and we can't tell you.”

My tail's been tracking through all the water on the floor. “Oh jeez.” I whip it back and forth to shake out the drops. I accidentally knock the parcel into the garbage chute. It cycles the thing out into space. We all turn to the porthole and see it floating away. The soldiers start laughing.

“I guess you ar-”

The parcel blows up. Huge explosion.

“Woah!” they shout. Their leader pointed his gun at me and the rest followed suit.

“You're coming with us, Lender!”

So I'm arrested as a terrorist and tied up with painter's tape. The soldiers can't decide what to do with me and bicker petulantly until a little group of battleships arrives at the site of the blast. My captors put a lunchbox over my head so I can't see. I hear a fax machine rumble to life and the brats stop arguing.

“Ahh! Alright, hurry or we're in deep shit.”

The skiff accelerates and we're thrown about by their pilot's clumsy maneuvering.

“Todd you suck haha let me drive!” someone jeers.

“Shut up dork! I'm doing it!”

We finally dock, roughly.

“OK Deli Lender, move your ass!”

Someone prods me out of the skiff and down a steep gangway (Lemurs have great balance, so I don't fall over).

“Who's this?” an adult voice demands. The lunchbox is ripped off my face and I see I'm in a huge hold. I'm encircled by a ragged horde of SM folks with rifles trained on my head. A very fit and imposing human marches up and stands nose-to-nose with me. I recognize her from the news; this is the commander of the SM, Kelly Bookbean. The guy who arrested me hurried to her side and whispered the story of the explosion and my arrest into her ear. Her expression shifts and she signals her troops to lower their weapons.

“Uncuff the lemur,” she commands. The painter's tape around my wrists was already coming off but they made a great show of severing my bonds. “Sergeant, you and your idiot crew get down to the septic line and jog laps until I come get you, understood?”

“Yes sir.” They salute and promptly depart. The commander scribbled something on a tablet and handed it to a runner. “Fax this to the Murderkiller.” He nodded and sprinted off. Bookbean turns to me with a sigh and firmly shakes my hand.

“Welcome. I'm Space Military Commander Bookbean.”

“I am Delivery Lemur (deliveremur).”

“Sorry about this. Some of my warriors don't know a true hero when they see one. Thank you for what you did today.”

Today... What did I do... I was trying to get some cheap algae snacks. “It's what anyone would do, right?”

“Not just anyone would have noticed that the package was rigged to explode, and take immediate action.” Her face fills with emotion. “The defense minister might have been killed today without your quick thinking.”

She's talking about something different, OK. “Ah, well. It is what it is, ya know,” I say. Bookbean's aide comes back and holds up a tablet for her to read.

“Mr. Welker wants to see you,” she said, and ushered me onto a shuttle with no further discussion. I had to hop to keep up with her brisk stride. We launched immediately.

The flagship SMV Murderkiller was easily distinguishable in the fleet guarding the capital, but even that massive thing was dwarfed by the Space Beam cannons. After docking in Murderkiller's underbelly, Bookbean escorted me rapidly through a dozen security scans into a heavily guarded elevator and used a 36-digit password to access Deck X. We came out into a noisy office block where everyone looked like a high-ranking officer. The cubicles were interconnected by canals for aquatic personnel like Tactical Toads and Logistical Lobsters. I spotted my acquaintance Lopcorn nearby with a mop and bucket, being berated by his supervisor.

“You're doing it wrong! Don't mop back and forth, you have to go in a circle, like this!”

“Blub-blub – Commander!” someone yelled. Bookbean halted and frowned down at a catfish in the canal wearing a white clerical collar.

“What?” she demanded brusquely.

“Another Possum Patrol raid – blub – six dead,” sobbed the catfish, pointing to six black bags on the floor. Bookbean bristled. Her shoulders flexed.

“You brought them here? You're out of line, Chaplain Guct.”

“Welker – blub – shall look upon them!” Guct declared. “We are paying the price on the front lines – blub – for your careless leadership – blub! Wave after wave...”

Some of the officers stopped to listen, looking uncomfortable. Bookbean pointed an angry finger at him. “I'll deal with you later,” she promised, then spun and called to the nearest officer. “You. Round up as many troops as you can and go chase down the raiders.” With that, she grabbed my arm and directed me down the hall. “Don't listen to that stupid fish, Delivery Lemur. Mr. Welker got me out of I/V labor when I was an orphan. He's a great man. I used to work in a garbage liquifier under the landfills on Zaxylys. I didn't see the sky for six years. We slept in the vents, even though it was freezing, just to get away from the fumes. Mr. Welker got us all out.”

I'm taken to an adjacent boardroom. It's empty but for two people sitting together at the farthest corner of the table: A sloth and a human. The human was President Gault. She's about fifty. Both her arms are missing. One leg ended at the knee, the other at the hip joint. The brown sloth next to her wore an outsized suit jacket emblazoned with the seal of the Department of Defense. They looked up at me. Bookbean shut the door behind us.

“Yggulazagla ygzaazy lagzalay,” the sloth greeted me quietly in accented Lemurish.

I know some of the sloth language and replied “Yawawya waawa-yaw (deliveremur)”

Franz Welker held a finger to his lips and I saw he had a sleeping human infant in each of his suit pockets. I lowered my voice. “Oh.” Huh.

Welker indicated the chair next to him and I sat. President of the United Galaxies, Jen Gault, inclined her head but said nothing. Her expression said she had already completed her appraisal of me with one glance. It's stuffy in here.

“Delivery Lemur; let me express my gratitude to you for thwarting today's bombing,” said Welker, slowly. Bookbean fell in behind him and stood at attention. “We are relieved that you were not injured during this disturbing incident.”

“Same.”

“Furthermore, we regret the actions of our ignorant troops who arrested you. It was not warranted. The neutrality of Delivery Lemurs throughout history is well-known in civilized society.”

Yes that's the rep you get when you never know wtf is going on I guess. “Ah, no biggie.”

“From whom did you get bomb?” asked the President. Her voice creaked like an old wooden board.

“Uh, a customer.”

“Who? Where?”

“On Luzlork. I couldn't see who it was, they were underwater.”

President Gault and Minister Welker exchanged a look. “What did they say?”

“They said it was urgent that I get it to Mr. Welker ASAP, and that I'd get a big reward,” I recount. “But why would someone try to mail you an explosion?”

“You're not permitted to ask questions,” Gault informed me. “You are a clown. We have a lot of clowns around here. You jettisoned the package when you realized you were in danger. By happenstance, that might have saved my colleague here. We're fortunate you did. On New Year's Day, the Floom Empire will attack the United Galaxies. We'll all die, or Franz will cause the attack to fail.”

I have some questions about that but I remember I'm not supposed to ask anything. The D.minister looked weary. His face sagged.

“If it was merely death, Jen...” he began, but was cut off. The door slid open and a shoebill stork flapped in. His grey feathers were clean but ruffled. His talons were bedecked with jewel-studded gold bangles. It was Felix Rølvag, the finance minister. He perched on the chair across from the president. After him swam anglerfish Scott la Soup, wifi minister, through the canal entrance. This is some kind of major meeting. "Madam President," hailed Rølvag, with forced deference. "Franz." He grinned insolently at Welker. "Minister Rølvag," answered Welker with perfect composure. "Minister la Soup. You have completed your inspection?" "Yes, your strays and orphans gave us a splendid tour," squawked Rølvag, rolling his eyes. "What big long cannons you have. Very impressive. Very very expensive." "Expensive---aye, but---vital," said Scott la Soup in a weird & fucked up voice. The door opened again and a squirrel scampered in, alongside an obese crocodile and menacing ibex; Dr. Anna Siong, Mal McFang, and Zank Zeetlock, representing the departments of health, agriculture, and energy respectively.

Zeetlock's curling black horns and wide glossy eyes freaked me out - but not as much as the next to arrive, Baron Armando el Mago. The justice minister was the tallest human I've ever seen, over 11 feet high, in a tailored silk suit with jade buttons. He was trailed by an entourage of ten Litigation Koalas who were clearly terrified of him. Baron Armando met my gaze and smiled. I looked away. Something is off about that dude. Rølvag sighed. "Berg is last again I suppo-" "OOOOO" someone roared, just as something whooshed past me in a blur that blew away Dr. Siong's stack of notes. Welker's pocket babies woke up and started babbling curiously. A cheetah was about to crash into me but changed direction at the last nanosecond and landed in the next chair. “Oh you childish, unprofessional...” muttered Dr. Siong, frantically gathering up her papers.

Berg Lazerson, Minister of Transportation, doffed his cowboy hat to her with a wink, and addressed the room at large. “Why is there a Delivery Lemur in my seat?” he turned to me. I got a wink too. “You're lucky I'm so agile. See how I fast I turned? A 9/10 landing, I'd say.”

“You ought to look before you leap, Minister Lazerson,” breathed Franz Welker. He procured milk bottles from his baggy sleeves and fed the children. “This lemur doesn't concern you. Deliveremur, why don't you...”

Berg tossed some papers out on the table. He straightened his back and folded his arms.

“Lemurs aside, then. We're here to talk about your weapons project. I'll start. My position hasn't changed, besides thinking you're an even bigger fraud than I knew an hour ago. You want me to reassign 50% of my heavy freighters and 33% of public M.Transit vehicles to shipping scrap metal and reactor mass to your artillery assembly site? In your dreams. Why would I do that? Fax out your dossier on the aliens if you want anyone to help you.”

“You may go,” Welker said to me, his face rigidly calm. I tried to push my chair out from the desk but Berg Lazerson was holding it down with his foot.

“Nah. You don't take orders from him.” Berg stuck out his chin. “Importers, exporters, and shipping entities, including private couriers, are regulated by Commercial Spacefaring Commission, which is regulated by the Civil Aeronautics Administration, which is regulated by me. So -”

“This is a military vessel, Minister. Civilian visitors are under military authority,” Welker said flatly.

“Gragarag garragagra raragar,” growled crocodile Mal McFang. “Gargagarararar!”

“Do we have time for this?” Demanded Dr. Anna Siong.

“No.” the President decided. “Wifi Minister la Soup, your report.”

“Yes---” the anglerfish buzzed. “We—are--maintaining--the data blackout around possum_patrol_territory, just as_requested... No uploads, no downloads---though, the--service-providers---are--not--happy-with---me-ha-ha.”

“We appreciate your continued assistance,” Welker told him. “I regret putting your department in this position. Put the blame on me; I will take responsibility for the ISP's losses.”

“Ah_no_need, n-no_needdd” stammered la Soup. “A---matter--of public security. The Wi-Fi_Dept is happy-to-help. We will contain the—Possum_Patrol's lies. Just tell_us_what---to---do--next.” Dr. Siong raised her paw. “If I may?” she squeaked. “I have new metrics on the famine. Illnesses relating to malnutrition are up everywhere, even in the capital system. We have scurvy in 3% of galaxy 1 and 17% of galaxy 7 citizens. Rickets is spiking in galaxy 6 like we've never seen before, and-”

“Grarar graagag! Franz Grrrrrrraaa!” McFang snarled.

Welker bowed contritely.

“The soldiers must eat. I ask too much of them to deny them square meals,” he said.

“Rarag gararga Stackland gagraga, grrr gra...”

“That has not escaped our notice.” President Gault assured her.

“Yes. Well. With regard to the most recent funding cuts,” picked up Siong. “I'd like to request our budget be revised before next quarter. You can't ask me to resolve this crisis with pocket change!”

“The President says Space Beams are the top priority,” sighed Rølvag, shrugging expansively. “So Welker gets his way. The treasury I've nurtured so well can sustain his spending until spring. A recession is inevitable, even if we shut down the cannons today. I've made you all aware of my projections...”

“You will continue to handle the expenses as we have agreed,” said Gault.

“Whatever Rølvag tells you, the opposite is true,” the ibex Zank Zeetlock alleged in rumbling monotone. “Triple-check your ledgers, Welker. Rølvag could be skimming trillions right under your nose. Or embedding loopholes in the hastily restructured budget to undermine your entire department. He is not going along with this out of kindness. There is something in it for him.”

Rølvag laughed openly. “That's right. It can't be the expanded authority to make up new taxes, the manufacturing boom, and ironclad tenure. I must be a Floom saboteur.”

Welker's hands slipped and he dropped both bottles of milk to the floor. They broke. The two babies he'd been feeding started crying.

“Oh no, the delegation of infants agrees with you, Zank.” The shoebill quipped, smirking sidelong at the ibex.

Welker was trying to console the young humans. I lifted my tail up to see if any milk landed on it; looks clean. “Kelly, could you...” said Franz.

“I'll get someone to clean it right away,” Kelly Bookbean said, and loped out of the room. Welker was changing the babies' milk-splattered bibs and caps for clean ones. I noticed both of their scalps were disfigured with huge bulging white veins. Zank Zeetlock was furiously castigating Felix Rølvag. Baron Armando's retinue of koalas were staring at the floor uncomfortably.

“That is enough,” cut in Gault. There was silence. The door swung open and Bookbean returned with a hare janitor – Mr. Lopcorn, whom I met on Gallagalla a few weeks ago. The disgraced ex-commander of the S.Military dipped his mop in his yellow bucket and started wiping up the spilled milk.

Berg Lazerson twitched.

“Someone help me out with this mystery,” he began, simmering with anger. His tail stiffened unconsciously. “With the threat of alleged aliens coming to get us, why does Welker demote and denigrate the best commander and fighter of all time?”

“Berggg---- it's more complicated-” la Soup interjected, but Berg talked right over him.

“The Lazerson dynasty has dominated the Land Olympics for a hundred years. Even among cheetahs, we stand alone. I am the greatest son of that line. I finish the hundred-meter dash in under one second,” he proclaimed, and looked to Lopcorn who was still cleaning, giving no sign that he was listening. “I can't even approach this freak. We enlisted at the same time. I thought I'd blow everyone's mind and become the ultimate hero. But when I met this guy, I knew I'd always be in his shadow. So here I am doing this. It's buffoonery for our d.minister to set aside Lopcorn. If he can't beat the aliens, no one can.”

Gault looked ready to spit. Welker just looked exhausted. “You don't know the first thing about the Floom Empire. None of you do.”

“Of course we don't,” cawed Rølvag. “You're the only one who's ever been there.”

Emergency lights flared red. An ear-splitting siren wailed. Holographic warning codes blinked to life everywhere.

Wifi minister la Soup understood it or just panicked and disappeared through the canal.

Commander Bookbean frowned. “Radiation alert! What the hell...” She started typing furiously on her phone.

Rølvag was anxious. “Meltdown?”

“Impossible. The MurderKiller has a brand new reactor enclosure,” said Zank Zeetlock. His phone came to life on the table, with peripheral attachments spinning and flashing and beeping.

“Six sources. Right outside this room.”

“Bad bad bad bad!” chittered Dr. Siong.

“We're evacuating,” Kelly Bookbean decided. She went over to the doors and threw them open.

In the hall outside, the six black body bags stood up. They gurgled and wheezed and stumbled toward the boardroom. Six hairy hideous things tore themselves out of the black plastic; their too-long tails thrashing, their eyes glowing, their jaws dripping with bright foam. Possum Patrol rushed into the boardroom.

“S-s-security!” shrieked Bookbean, her whole frame shaking in horror. A hundred Commando Chameleons detached themselves from the walls and ceiling and sprayed the possums with bullets. It did not injure them. The six nightmares tore through the commandos in a frenzy, splattering them with overwhelming, unbelievable strength. They attacked with tooth and claw, breaking swathes of chameleons into pieces with each cruel lash of their tails. The last line of defenders were breaking and trying to get away. Possum Patrol ravenously smashed through them. The view into the boardroom opened up.

“IT'S HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM!” the possum at the front howled. He got a gun and shot. Kelly Bookbean dove in front of Welker and her ribcage popped. Pandemonium swallowed the world. The cheetah Berg grabbed Dr. Siong and pulled her under the table then came back up for me. Litigation Koalas were scrambling in all directions. Rølvag and Zeetlock frantically searched for a way out. Mal McFang lunged onto the table and was bellowing something in crocodilish. Gault hurled herself to the ground. I made myself go numb, like I do. Franz Welker was up but not moving. His lips parted and I saw that his teeth were clenched really hard. The possums converged on him.

With bitter regret in each syllable, Welker said, “All hands, engage.” Instantaneously, six red lumps appeared in Lopcorn's bucket and the possums thudded to the deck, headless. Gore and hot blood covered everything and everyone.

Lopcorn kept cleaning as though uninterrupted, mopping systematically with circular strokes. He went wide around Welker, leaving him in a red puddle. “Save them,” mouthed Bookbean just as she died.

The cabinet ministers were recovering themselves. McFang was helping the President back into her chair.

“How could they have gotten in here?” she rasped.

“Nuclear hearts,” answered Zeetlock. “It's decades-old abandoned technology.”

“No pulse. No body heat. A standard cell scan would read them as corpses,” said breathless Dr. Siong. “They can put themselves into hibernation and self-activate. But that operation severely shortens your lifespan. The original heart is destroyed. They're desperate...”

“They had to be carted in by someone,” Rølvag pointed out. “As long as they were playing dead.”

Oh, this I actually know. I say, “It was the Clerical Catfish, Chaplain Guct.” They seemed startled, like they forgot I was there.

“How do you know that?” demanded Gault.

“I saw him with the body bags on my way in.”

She looked imploringly at Welker who still hadn't moved. “The Catfish are in league with Possum Patrol, as we suspected.”

Welker's eyes were on Lopcorn for a long while before he abruptly looked over at me.

“Yes, yes” he was saying to himself. He took out his phone and when he spoke into it, his voice came through the ship-wide intercom. “This is Welker. Lock down the ship. Detain all Catfish.” He put the phone down. “Guct will have fled, but the effort should be made. Lopcorn, Delivery Lemur, come with me please.”

The sloth led 2 of us past the mass of ripped limbs and bursted guts in the corridor to an empty office. We watched quietly while he wrote down a short message, sealed it in an envelope, and pressed it into my paw. “I have a job for you,” Welker said. “Please take this letter to the library on Planet Clockmarsh.”

His blood-damp paws left gross stains on the envelope. “Uh, okay,” I say apprehensively.

“Lopcorn, I promote you to the rank of private. I am ordering you to escort this Delivery Lemur as bodyguard until the delivery is complete.”

“Yes sir.”

uh end of log 7

#Delivery Lemur

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lucaslooksbrown · 5 years

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Harvey

Date: Wed, 22 May 2019 13:39:09 -0500 From: gwen uni <[email protected]> Subject: Harvey Was A Bitch by Cutter09 gay adult/youth Please remember to donate to Nifty. The thousands of stories available for your reading pleasure is provided by Nifty, so give a little and get a lot. Cutter09 http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html You can find more of my stories listed on the prolific authors page under Cutter09 Harvey Was A Bitch To say that we were surprised by the impact of Harvey would be an understatement. Being in Houston for years, and having worked on oil rigs in the gulf, I had survived many bad storms. But Harvey was a real bitch. In my area of town there had been flooding a few years earlier that had come to within a couple of blocks of my highrise apartment. They had said at the time it was a once in five hundred years flood. So, with Harvey imminent, I stocked up on food, water, batteries, etc., and planned to hunker in and ride it out. I was even smart enough to get coolers filled with dry ice for perishables. I expected power outages, and not being able to get out of the area for a few days, but Harvey decided that wasn't enough of an inconvenience. I watched the storm from my window on the sixth floor. The wind and rain were incredible. The lights went out fairly early in the storm, and with the flashes of lightning I could see the trees swaying as much as a forty five degree angle. Across from my building is a very nice subdivision with large houses set on large lots. Many nights I would sit on my balcony and watch the residents around their secluded pools, thinking they weren't being seen as they did all sorts of fun things. A lot of the women liked to sunbathe topless during the day too, and with my binoculars, I got some nice views. As I watched the storm, I happened to look down at that subdivision. One house in particular, I had seen the lady of the house blowing her hubby poolside one night. I couldn't see the pool. I thought the storm was just distorting things, so I got out my trusty binoculars. That's when I realized Harvey was a bitch. I couldn't see the pool because it was under water. The car in the driveway was only half visible too. The last flood hadn't even come close to these people's house. I don't know what the difference was, but within five minutes, the half visible car was no longer visible at all. The water was rising rapidly. I didn't have a lot of time to consider the situation because another situation knocked at my door just then. "Oh thank God. I was afraid the whole building was empty," said the young teen boy at my door. "What are you doing out in this storm?" I asked, opening the door to let him in. He was a full foot shorter than me at about five feet two inches [1.55 m] tall, maybe a hundred ten pounds [50 kg], tousled light brown hair, big brown eyes. "I live on the second floor. I didn't know how bad it was, until water started coming under the door. I tried to stop it by putting towels under it, but soon that was useless. It was up to my ankles when I decided to leave, I opened the door, and the water in the hall was already knee deep. I knew the first floor was flooded, so I decide to try and find someone else still in the building. I knocked on every door on the way up. Nobody's here. You're the first one to actually answer the door." "Where are your parents? Do they need help?" "No. My mom just married her boyfriend. They're in Paris on their honeymoon." "They left you alone?" "No. My grandmother was supposed to check up on me. When we heard the storm was going to be bad, she said she'd come pick me up.That was yesterday. I think something might have happened to her." "Do you know your mom's cell number?" "Yes." Surprisingly I got a signal, and handed him my cell phone. "Call her and let her know you're okay." "Mom?... Yeah, I'm fine... I don't know where she is, she was supposed to pick me up but I think something happened... I'm with some guy on the sixth floor... Just a second. She wants to speak to you." "Hello." "Hello. Uh... Who am I speaking with?" "Brandon Duncan." ""Mr. Duncan, how bad is it there?" "Well, I'm afraid your apartment is completely flooded. The power is out, and the storm isn't letting up. I have food and water to last awhile, so I think we'll be alright." "We've just heard about the storm, and were going to fly home, but nothing is landing in Houston." "Don't bother. It's going to be awhile before the water recedes enough to get here even if you were able to land. Just enjoy your honeymoon as much as you can under the circumstances. I'll keep you informed if things worsen." "Thank you Mr. Duncan." I handed the phone back to the boy. "Yes Mom... He does seem like a nice guy... yeah I'll behave... Ok, love you too. Bye." "So, what's your name kid?" "Blake." "Well Blake, are you hungry?" "A little." "I doubt that Domino's pizza is delivering tonight, so how about some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?" He shivered as he nodded his head. I noticed his jeans were soaked halfway up his thighs. "First, let's find you something to wear." Leading him to my bedroom by flashlight, I pulled out an old basketball jersey from my bottom drawer. "It might be a little big, but it will do," I said handing it to him. Blake wasted little time in taking his jeans off. Then he removed his tee shirt too. I had the flashlight trained on him, and could see his tight white briefs in it's glow. The jersey fit him like a dress, hanging to his thighs. It was then I realized it was mesh, and I could see through it. He either didn't notice, or didn't care. "Thanks. It feels good to get out of those wet jeans." I made the sandwiches and poured the last of my milk into two glasses to go with it. At least it wouldn't spoil. I lit a candle and set it on the table. In its dim light, I could still see Blake's chest and and briefs through the mesh material. After we ate, we stood at the patio door watching the storm ravage the city. "May I use your toilet?" "Sure. Down the hall on the left." I started to lead him there with the flashlight, then had a thought. "Wait. Uh... the plumbing is probably not going to work. We'll have to go down to water level and do our business in the water." "Won't it go into people's apartments, including mine?" "Afraid so. But they're already ruined, and that water is a sewer now too. You don't even want to know all that's in it." He worked it through his head, and nodded." I reached for some toilet paper. "Uh... I don't need that right now," he said. I led him down the stairwell till we reached the water halfway up the second story. "I never thought I would be doing this," Blake said as he tucked the jersey under his chin. The beam of the flashlight was soon joined by a stream of urine from Blake. I slowly trailed the beam up the stream to its origin. Blake had a thumb holding his underwear waistband down, as his other hand held his dick. It was soft, about three and a half inches [8½ cm], fairly thick, with a nice round knob. I could make out a few hairs at its base, and his balls were mashed against his cock by his underwear. I would imagine it being a really nice cock when hard. When he finished, I turned to go back upstairs. "Don't you need to go too?" he asked. "I might as well, since we're already here." I pulled the waistband of my sweatshorts down in front. It took me awhile to get my stream started since I wasn't in dire need. The whole time, Blake had the flashlight pointed at my cock. We headed back upstairs after I finished. Blake broke the silence by saying, "I've never seen a dick that big." "Your's is pretty big too for your age. How old are you anyway?" "I'll be thirteen next week. You're not mad about me looking at your dick?" "I can't complain, I looked at yours too. It's only natural. If someone is standing in front of you with their genitals on display, you're gonna look. Male or female, it's hard not to look." "At school if you're caught looking at another guy's dick, they call you names," Blake noted. "Yes, that does seem to be the case. It's the unspoken rule in any public restroom. But most guys are gonna look if they can get by with it." The storm continued to rage outside as we watched from the balcony door. Blake seemed pensive, so I asked him if he was okay. "Yeah, I guess. It just seems like this storm is never going to end. Do you think we'll be alright here?" "We're about forty feet [12 m] above the water. If it get's this high, there really isn't anyplace safe to be. Most of Texas would be gone. If worse comes to worse, we'll move higher. This building has ten floors." Later I showed him to the guest room and left him with a candle. I had barely settled in my bed before the door opened. "Brandon, can I stay with you?" "Uh... sure." He approached the bed, and with the candlelight, I could see he had taken off the jersey. His briefs glowed in the flickering light as he sat the candle down on the bedside table. He blew out the candle and crawled in beside me. He lay perched on the edge of the bed as if he didn't want to invade my space. "It's okay to be scared, Blake. This is a really bad storm. A lot of people are scared right now, even grown men." "Are you scared?" "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little scared. But I know we're gonna be okay." Blake moved closer and drew my arm around him, laying his head on my shoulder. "Thanks, Brandon." He lay his hand down between our bodies, and discovered I was naked. "Brandon, are... uh..." "What?" "Uh... nothing, never mind. Good night." "Good night, Blake," I replied placing a light kiss on his head. *** It was still raining when I woke up, though some light was coming in the windows. Blake lay on his side, drooling on my chest. His morning erection poking at my hip, his hand on my own morning wood. I thought about removing it, but if he woke up at that moment, it might appear as if I was trying to place it there, not remove it. I decided to just leave it and let him figure out what to do. I lay there about fifteen minutes until Blake began to wake. I feigned sleep as he looked up at my face. He then squeezed my cock, checking how hard it was I guessed. His hand slowly made its way down to the base squeezing it along the way. Then all the way to the head, still squeezing it, checking the length. He stroked it a couple of times, causing me to moan slightly. This scared his hand away from me, and he rolled onto his back. So I rolled onto my side facing him. I still pretended to be asleep, as I lay my hand down on the front of his underwear. He let out a moan as my fingers lightly gripped his cotton encased erection. I released it, then moved my hand up to his belly, to slip my fingers under the waistband. He made no move to stop me, so I proceeded down to grip his young cock. "You have a nice dick, Blake." "Um..Thanks. I thought you were asleep." "I was until you played with my cock." "I'm sorry. I woke up and it was in my hand. I just wanted to see how big it was when it was hard." "Show me yours, and I'll show you mine," I said with a smile. He understood the schoolyard humor, and reached for his underwear. Once free of confinement, I could see his dick was a little over five inches [13 cm] long and thick for his age. On his tiny body, it looked huge. He only had a few hairs, and a set of balls that I couldn't wait to run my tongue over. He got impatient as I stared at his jewels. "Can I see yours now?" I pulled the cover off us, and got on my knees in front of him. Blake gazed at it for a moment, then his hand wrapped around it. He looked up at me and asked, "Can I suck it?" Thank you God for sending me this angel. "Only if I get to suck yours too." He leaned toward me and took it into his mouth. It had been twenty years since I had been with a boy. My best friend Aaron and I had messed around when we were about Blake's age. I have dreamed of being with a boy ever since. Now I had that chance, I was going to take full advantage of it. I could tell he hadn't ever done this before, but he was very enthusiastic. He knew what he wanted. A cock in his mouth. He yearned to feel it, and taste it. He also wanted what was soon coming his way. A full load of man sperm. He worked hard for what he knew was his reward. His lips and hand moved in sync, enticing the load from my cock. "Do you want me to cum in your mouth?" Blake nodded and picked up the pace. "I'm cumming." Blake's cheeks puffed out a bit as my first shot fired. He quickly swallowed, and coaxed the rest out with his hand. Swallowing twice more before slowing his motion. Then he just lovingly sucked on it. The kid was a natural, and liked it. I had just given him his first taste of something he would crave the rest of his life. Even after taking his mouth away, he still stared at it, wondering when he would get to do it again. That time would come soon enough, but first, it was my turn. I swooped down and swallowed his boy dick. My mind instantly flooded with the memory of sucking Aaron's dick. His silky hardness filled my mouth, reaching the entrance to my throat. Blake was so turned on by sucking me, he didn't last thirty seconds before I got a taste of his boy cream. The worst of the storm had passed, but it was still raining. We didn't bother to dress as we went down the stairwell to stand side by side and piss into the water below. We laughed all the way back to the apartment. Blake immediately reached for my cock. He already needed another serving of cream. Who was I to deny a budding cocksucker. We were sitting on the sofa, when his face dropped into my lap. His lips wrapped around my cock, and he slowly sild up and down on it. He didn't seem to be trying to make me cum, it was more like he just wanted to enjoy having a cock in his mouth. I leaned back and let him have his way. His head lay on my stomach as he nursed on my cock, almost like a baby with a pacifier. After a couple of minutes, he pulled it out of his mouth, and held it straight up admiring it. His hand slid up the shaft and swirled around the knob end before sliding back down. Then he put it back in his mouth to nurse on it some more. "You really like my dick, don't you," I pointed out. Blake nodded, then pulled away long enough to say "It's beautiful. And so big." As he put his lips around it again, I slid my hand down to his butt. I squeezed his little butt cheeks before slipping my middle finger into his crack. He pressed back into my hand as I toyed with his pucker. This got him excited enough to start sucking my cock in earnest. His head bobbed up and down my shaft quickly and when he felt my balls tighten up, he took me into his throat for me to explode there. I pushed my finger into him up to the second knuckle and worked it in and out. Blake grabbed his dick and stroked it twice before firing his load onto his stomach. "Are you ready for some breakfast?" I asked after we had calmed. I scrambled eggs on the side burner of my gas grill, and we sat down to eat. I had never sat and ate with a naked teenager, but hoped it wouldn't be the last time. Neither of us seemed bothered by it, in fact I think Blake enjoyed it as much as I. He had a constant smile on his face, and kept glancing down at my cock. We were cuddling on the sofa when I heard something. A motor. I stepped to the balcony railing and looked down. There was a guy in a bass boat looking for people who needed rescuing. I yelled down to him, "Hey! Is all of Houston under water?" "Just about. You need help?" "If it doesn't get any worse, we'll be alright. It would be hard to get down there anyway. We have food and water to last awhile." "Ok. I'll swing by again in a day or two to check on you." "Thanks. I'd appreciate it." Blake had a smile on his face as I entered the patio door. "What?" I asked. "Nothing. At first I thought you were going to ask him to rescue us. "Do you want to be rescued?" "You already did," he said, and threw his arms around me. Later I was teaching him to play the card game 'Spades', and he began looking a little pensive. "What's wrong?" "Nothing. I'm just worried." "We're gonna be just fine. The rain will stop soon, then the water will go down, and you'll be back with your mom." "That's just it. When they get back we're gonna move in with Lucas." "He didn't live with you here?" "No. He's rich, and has a really big house north of here." "Oh? What's Lucas's last name?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't say Bishop. "Bishop." "Shit. He owns the company I work for. He's probably fifty years old. How old is your mom?" "Thirty. I guess she's like a trophy wife or something. She's really pretty." Now I was getting curious. "What happened to your dad?" "Never had one. Mom's worked for Bishop since she was sixteen. He got divorced last year, and started dating my mom." "Had you met him before they started dating?" "Yeah, he's been to our place lots of times. I can't remember when he wasn't around." Okay, things were getting clearer. There has always been rumors about Bishop and a young girl. So, putting the rumors with this information, I would guess that Bishop knocked up a sixteen year old girl, kept her and her son around, divorced his wife and now married the mother of his son, I also knew he only had two daughters by his first wife. Maybe he decided he wanted a male heir. "Well, after this storm, I'm sure you would have to move anyway." "You're right. I know. But now that I've met you, I don't think I want to move. I've never been so comfortable around anybody like I am with you." He reached for my cock again. "I've never been able to sit around naked with anybody, or play with their dick, and let them play with mine, like I can with you." "You know, I will probably have to move too. The lobby is gone, all resident services are gone, the elevator probably won't work for a long time. It will be at least a year before this building is habitable again. Maybe I'll check into a hotel near where you live, and we can still see each other." This brought a smile to his face. "Will you really? You will still want to see me after all this is over?" He seemed surprised that I would want to. "Of course I will. Why wouldn't I?" I asked. "I sorta thought this was like a convenience for you. You know. Like, 'I'm stuck with this kid, I might as well get my dick sucked' kinda thing." "I don't let just anyone suck my dick. You're a beautiful boy and I like you a lot. And you have a pretty suckable dick too," I laughed. My cock had grown hard in his hand. He was staring at it while lost in thought for a moment. "So... If I wanted to do more, would you?" he asked without looking away from my cock. "More? Like what?" He hesitated for a moment, then said, "I really liked the way your finger felt in me this morning..." "So you want to try something a little bigger?" Blake smiled and nodded at me. "I'm pretty big. Are you sure you want to?" "I trust you." I used my fingers, then a couple of different sized candles, to stretch him a bit. With each progressively larger item, he moaned and groaned as his hole was widened, but he never said stop. In fact, he seemed to enjoy every step of the way. His dick receded at each step, then returned to rigid hardness as I worked the candle in and out. Blake lay on his back, and I was poised at his opening when I gave him one last chance to back out. "Are you sure?" He smiled and pulled my cock to his hole. "Please fuck me." I leaned down to kiss him as I applied pressure. All the prep work had helped, and I popped in fairly easily. Blake groaned into my kiss, and wrapped his arms around me. I moved slowly in and out, gaining ground with every third or fourth stroke. He moaned as I took possession of each additional inch of his chute. At about six inches [15 cm], I tried just fucking him with that, but he wanted more. Bucking up at me, and wrapping his legs around me to pull me deeper, I gave in and slowly fed him the last three inches [7 cm] of thick cockmeat. As my balls banged against his butt cheeks, Blake screamed out, "Oh God!" I felt his dick throbbing between our bellies as he unloaded his cream there. When his orgasm passed, Blake's lips met mine again, and he humped his hips up at me wanting more fucking. I obliged, and started to pound him pretty hard. This kid was born to be fucked. I've never had a woman who was as enthusiastic and responsive as Blake was. His moans of pleasure in my ear were just as exciting as his tight tunnel gripping my cock. His second orgasm pushed me over the brink, and I unleashed my cum in his colon. I collapsed on top of him, and we both tried to recover. "Are you okay?" I asked after a couple of minutes. "Couldn't be better," he whispered. I started to pull away. "Please don't take it out yet. I like the way you feel inside me." Looking down at him I said, "Where have you been all my life?" "The first fifteen years or so of it, I wasn't born yet," Blake laughed, causing his ass to squeeze my cock. "Just for that..." I said, and jerked my cock from his butt. "Ooh... That was mean," Blake complained. "It's up to us old guys to teach you young whippersnappers a lesson." He pulled me back for a kiss. "Lesson learned. Now put it back in me." "Later. Let's get something to eat." Blake made his way downstairs to our toilet, as I grilled steaks and roasted corn on the gas grill. The rain had slowed, but still coming. "The water didn't get to the third floor, but almost. And I think it's gone down some." He sat with a big grin and watched me going to and fro as I prepared our dinner. His gaze never far from my swinging cock. When I sat the plates on the table, he stood on his toes and leaned up for a kiss. I leaned down to kiss him, and his hand grabbed my cock. "I feel like a girl on her honeymoon, and I can't wait till my husband fucks me again." I didn't make him wait too long. As soon as it was too dark to see, we went to bed. Blake was so anxious, he practically raped me. He pushed me onto my back, straddled me, and impaled himself on my pole. In the flickering candlelight, I watched his face. There was nothing but pure bliss to be seen. His dick was hard and drooling as he rode me. He soon squirted out his first orgasm, and I flipped him over and fucked him hard. *** The man in the bass boat returned, but we declined assistance. The water slowly receded, and we spent the time fucking and sucking as it did. As suspected, there was nothing in his apartment worth saving. The lobby area was even worse, and I knew I was going to have to move. When I heard the first cars moving down on the streets below, I told Blake he should get dressed. An hour later there was a knock at the door. Blake's mom and her new husband were happy to see Blake. "As soon as I heard your name, I knew Blake was in good hands," my boss said. "How is that sir?" I asked, taking his offered handshake. "I make it a point to know about my employees. I told Tammy to relax, that you would make sure Blake was safe." I wasn't aware that Mr. Bishop even knew my name. Blake's mom still had him in a strangling hug as Bishop said, "Pack a bag. There's no reason to stay here. You're coming with us." Blake told of how scared he had been and that I took really good care of him. He loved telling how we used the staircase as a toilet. "Just think Mom, you probably walked through my poop on your way to the apartment." She turned to her husband and said, "I'm throwing these shoes away." Which brought a laugh to everyone. Bishop's house is excessively huge and luxurious. I was assigned a bedroom next to Blake's. I was a bit apprehensive when Blake snuck into my room the first night. That didn't stop me from planting his face in the pillow and fucking the life out of him. It was two weeks before I could get my stuff packed and moved. Bishop gave me a condo in the building across the street from our company headquarters. I got the impression it was where he had taken sixteen year old Tammy and put Blake in her belly. Probably spent many a lunch hour there with her since then too. My new position as 'Head of Operations' pays double what I was making before, and Bishop never questions the amount of time I spend with Blake. He has however mentioned how well Blake fills out a speedo, then adds "As I'm sure you know." I suspect he knows about our relationship. He says Blake and I are like the two sons he never had. I know that I am the only one that isn't his son, and since Tammy is pregnant now, maybe he'll have another. Yes, Harvey was a real son of a bitch to Houston, but it was great to me. The End © Cutter09 Please send comments: Cutter09 would love to hear what you think of the story! Do you enjoy having access to all the great fantasy material and also having a place to share your own stories without having to censer them for a general audience? Please donate to Nifty and help support and maintain this free service. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

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