Lester's Keeper

7) Secrets Revealed

Lester followed the direction of her outstretched hand and vaguely made out twin silhouettes descending the steps before it.

"Damn," he whispered

Good timing, you stupid bitch.

He stood and approached the railing that ran along the seating area. As he strained his eyes to better make out the pair, he saw them make their way toward a station on the gloomy floor. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Mrs. Knight. She smiled and regarded him intensely.

"Watch," she said. "This is why you came after all."

Lester turned again to the floor and glanced at his watch. The hour and minute hands remained at the same positions they had occupied two hours earlier in the car. Between the two still hands rested a tiny lens. God bless the Chinese, he thought as he leaned on the balcony and allowed his hands to hang limp over it. Tentatively, he reached across with his index finger and pushed the button on the watch's side.

Let's get on with it.

The twin silhouettes increased in clarity until he could clearly make out Maggie, blank-faced and staring upward and across the floor at him. He raised a hand - Smile! - but she remained expressionless and staring. The dearth of expression seemed an active thing, crafted and broadcast. Her look seemed to urge him to intervene, but interruption was not an option. He had worked too hard to get her this far. He had endured too many days of insincere affection, too many evenings of counterfeit passion. He was treading the home straight now. His reward was in sight.

The dimly lit station consisted only of a large ottoman. A single bulb glowed weakly before it. The figure behind Maggie became only sufficiently visible for Lester to see that he appeared morbidly obese. Lester's eyes grew wide and he snorted laughter. "Holy shit." He turned again to look at Mrs. Knight but she only continued to stare at events on the floor.

The overweight figure approached Maggie and placed a hand on her shoulder, reaching for the base of her neck with the other. The hand dropped to her waist and the shoulders of her dress fell limp. As the figure retreated a step once more and began to work at his own clothing, Maggie allowed her shoulders to slump and the dress fell free about her feet. She stood now, topless in the gloom, plump breasts hanging and still before him.

As the person behind her revealed his own flesh, the light caught him. His gut hung and sagged about misshapen thighs and above it the chest drooped like something melted. Lester continued to watch with morbid fascination as the figure approached Maggie again from behind and jerked her underwear down and loose. She stepped out of the laced garment, leaving her clothing abandoned in a wrinkled pile. He pushed her forwards and she fell onto the ottoman.

She climbed onto all fours and now the glowing bulb lit her face sufficiently for Lester to clearly see the stillness of her features and the blankness in the eyes. He shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't have dreamt it could be this good. Maggie dropped to her elbows and raised her plump behind in the air. The figure pushed forward. He had to reach beneath the folds of his gut to retrieve a penis that remained unseen with darkness and distance. He shuffled forward on unsteady feet and Maggie winced. The thing released the hold on his flab and Lester saw with perverse delight that the bundle of fat was resting upon Maggie's buttocks as he began to thrust at her, sending her and his own breasts and stomach fluttering amongst the gloom.

Lester stole another wide-eyed and smiling glance at his watch before returning his eager gaze to the dark scene of degradation unfolding before him. The thing behind her continued to thrust and Maggie appeared stoic as her breasts danced and shivered, framed by her tensed arms.

There was no enjoyment in it, he was sure. Not for her at least. For him, it was wonderful. This footage would be priceless. The thrusting gained pace and the figure began to groan loud enough that he could be heard above the others on the floor and above the gentle classical symphonies.

Lester realized his prick was solid, throbbing in his pants. Another minute or two for this to end and Mrs. Knight was going to have to take it, he thought. If she was lucky maybe he would even vary up orifices. Don't mention it. The pleasure's mine. As if seeking confirmation, he turned to look at her, pelvis thrust forward to broadcast the sight of the pulsing bulge pulling the fabric of his pants leg tight.

His display was cut short. Suddenly a painful cramp flared through the muscle of his neck. He grimaced and began to roughly massage the knotted flesh with a stubborn hand. As the bolt of pain began to subside he lifted his eyes to Mrs. Knight.

Her eyes were wide and fixed on him, observing him with hungry curiosity. Lester regarded her demeanor with budding confusion. He began to open his mouth to ask her what she was looking at but his jaw locked hard. The beginnings of panic began to bloom in his knotting stomach and accelerating heart.

His wide eyes absorbed the image of her as her hand went to the table and then to the candle that burned upon it. His legs began to tremor beneath his weight and he spun to the railing at his back for support. Before his head could turn back to the floor, he saw that the candle on the table now burned red within another of the glass cylinders.

Suddenly, Lester's head felt leaden. It dropped forward hard, like a hinge had been released between his upper vertebrae. A tremor coursed through the muscle of his neck and sent the head bobbing as it rolled loosely and erratically atop his body. He perceived a disproportionate weight bearing down through his forearms and the thin railing they rested on. It felt like an unseen load had been slung roughly across his shoulders. The metal railing cruelly resisted the bones of his arms and set bright bolts of acute pain through him. His balance was maintained only by inertia. Any movement threatened to drive him either backwards into the floor or face-first into the railing.

Oh Jesus, I'm having a stroke!

He fought to move but his body was paralyzed. He strained to scream but his lips only parted for his failed calls to expel between them in a silent gust.

His wide eyes rolled upward, darting about the floor before him, desperately seeking the sight of anyone who noticed his plight. He summoned all the strength in his failing muscles and tried again to scream but only a dense string of saliva spilled from him and hung, viscous in the air.

His desperate eyes continued to flick about the distorted scene they conjured at their extreme angle, and within the alarm of his mind Lester became aware of a changing of the view before him.

One by one, the candlelights floating in the layer of darkness above the floor began to turn red. Then came the sound of her voice in his ear, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath settle upon him.

"Mr. Latroy," she whispered. "You confused me when you put up so little fight over your phone. For a moment I even thought there might have been some decency in you."

She laid a hand on each of his shoulders and gripped him hard enough that he felt her nails in his flesh. She jerked him backwards with surprising force and his limp body crashed heavily to the floor. Bright white light flashed in his vision as his head connected with the unforgiving wood beneath him. She glared down at him. Her eyes were wild, the face contorted in a mask of rage.

"It was your wristwatch all along. You are a man alright. A pig, bastard, man."

*****

Uh-oh.  What's going on here?  Things might just be about to turn sour...

Please remember to vote, share and comment!  It's great to hear your thoughts and reactions!!  G.H.

******