Crossover Earth '98

Days of Pain
A Battle in Pennsylvania - and many elsewheres
by Scott Bennie

I don’t like losing, especially to psychotic animals. It had been one of the hardest fights in my life, and in the end, I was face-down on the pavement in a pool of my own blood, and worst of all, out the ten grand I would have gotten if I had beaten that deranged mutt. Mastiff. He’ll be stiff all right, once I’m finished with him.

But determination doesn’t keep promises by themselves - only losers think they do. No, as much as it hurts to admit it, Mastiff had kicked my ass because he was better than me. I couldn’t handle his natural quickness; I couldn’t quite land the blows I needed during the fight. He was too tough for a guy like me to walk over, and my plans to use my force fields at a distance didn’t work out the way I intended. No, I needed to improve, and sooner rather than later. I needed to find an expert who’d give me the edge I needed to deal with Mastiff, or Skein, or the Guardians, or anyone who crossed my path.

I was too busy blaming myself and feeling pissed to do anything for two days after the fight; I don’t even want to think about my hotel bill after what I did to that place. New York was beginning to feel like a real pile of crap. I needed to find a martial arts expert, someone good enough to train me. I didn’t want to come crawling back to Chariot, even if he wasn’t still in the early stages of recovery. But Chariot had mentioned a Master Marakami, a master of nearly every martial art imaginable who lived in some dungheap in Pennsylvania. It sounded like as good a place as any to train.

It took me about a day, but I found him in a gym in a small town on the outskirts of Pittsburgh. Seemed like as good an excuse for a workout as any.

I’m pretty noticeable in a gym, given my build; imagine a powerlifter without a gut and not much fat elsewhere, and that’s me, the king of mass. When I was a kid, I used to really get off on showing off my body, but now it’s a bit of an embarrassment, except when it helps me get laid. And occasionally I find other kinds of fun. I look for the biggest guys in the gym, and start doing some monster curls as close to them as possible, looking to embarrass them. A bit of attitude goes a long way. Especially with some of the female trainers, the ones who look like they’d fit on "Aerobic Lesbians" on ESPN2 every morning. It can be pretty cool.

It didn’t take too long to draw plenty of attention. A few guys offered to spot for me, and tried to start completely vacuous gym conversation. I happily ignored them. By this time, a self defense class for women had started. There wasn’t much eye candy bouncing around in those leotards, except for the instructor, a lean, well-muscled long-haired Japanese women who looked to be in her early 20s. I decided to spend a lot of time on the stationary bicycles, which looked into the self-defense class. A Japanese man, a pretty impressive guy in his early 20s who looked like a cross between a bodybuilder and a gymnast, got on the bike next to mine and began to pedal. Our footing quickly gained an unnerving synchronicity.

"Like what you see?" he asked me with a smile, looking into the aerobics class..

"The instructor’s a babe." I answered.

"She’s my sister. Sort of." The man did not seemed to disapprove of my interest. I found myself liking him immediately, which doesn’t happen very often. "I’m Don Marakami."

"You got an older brother or a dad around here?"

"I’ve been expecting you, Mark," he told me, ignoring the question . "There are demons who are very interested in you."

"Yeah. Do any of them have big tits?" I joked.

"A few of them, I’m sure." Don smiled back. "Let’s cut the bull. You need me to train you. I’m really bored. We can mess up each others lives, and still have time to cut loose and have fun."

"Sounds like a plan." I said, dismounting the bike. Don also dismounted. We climbed a small, creaking set of wooden stairs. Odd, I hadn’t remembered a second floor in this building. I followed him into a large room covered with grey-white tumbling mats.

"If you are to improve your skills, you must listen to me and do everything I say. You must pay attention to my every word. *Every* word. You got it?"

"Don’t think so." I said. "Repeat it again."

"Now, for your first test." Don circled me, eyes flashing. "Take off your clothes."

I cocked an eyebrow. His voice became very sagely. "You must become one with your animal self. You must divest yourself of human trappings and embrace the beast within."

Six months ago, I would have probably decked him. This whole line felt like a complete piece of crap. But maybe it was Mastiff’s bestial nature that had given him the edge over me. Maybe this wasn’t such a stupid idea. Reluctantly, I disrobed and let my clothing fall to the floor. Don whistled and laughed. I felt like slapping him. I felt a rush of hormones, the pre-fight injection, which I barely kept in check.

"Now, I want to see you impress me without touching me. Try to intimidate me."

I closed into his personal space and glowered. He just smiled for thirty seconds. I began to pose, showing off my muscle, and feeling incredibly embarrassed. I wanted to hurt someone bad. Don stepped back, grabbed a camera from a pack on the wall, and started snapping pictures.

"What the Hell…"

"I need to show you your bestial self. This is very important." Don assured me, smiling and chuckling.

I had grave doubts as to Don’s sincerity, but for some reason, I didn’t immediately try to tear his head from his shoulders. After two minutes of playing male model, I finally decided to quit. Don took his last few shots. "I’ve had it with this." I muttered. "So when do I get to see my bestial self?" I asked, sarcastically.

"Depends on when I can sell the pictures to Playgirl. You’re a real hot commodity in the media right now, Mark. I figure I can get at least fifty grand for the spread."

I screamed and rushed for the camera. Don ran through the door, and began running away, laughing hyena-style at the top of his lungs. Still naked, and operating solely on anger, I followed. God, I was pissed.

I chased him, like an enraged kid whose favorite toy had been stolen by a schoolyard bully. We ran through the weight room, through the self-defense class, and in and out of the sauna. People treated it like a big joke, yelling at us (actually, at me) as we ran. Some guy began calling out his telephone number. The only person who seemed disgusted was the instructor in the self-defense class. Maybe she’d sympathize more with me if I was being humiliated. Chicks like to appear sympathetic to an underdog.

Don was just plain fast; his footspeed put me to shame (though he’s not as fast as Chariot) and he was as agile as Hell. Several times, I cornered him, and he rolled out of my way, slapped me or pinched my ass, and then continued the run. He never stopped laughing. The chase lasted for nearly an hour before I gave up. We were back in the mat room, watching our chests heave. Don handed me the camera with a smile.

"I’m gonna kill you." I promised as I ripped out the film.

"You can’t kill something that isn’t alive." Don laughed, and then he groaned. "But man, my sides are hurting. You’ve got pretty good endurance for a big guy, and you’re determined as Hell."

"Is that what this was all about? A test?" I yelled.

"Nah, I just wanted to see you run around naked. Thought it’d be funny. And it was."

"You son of a bitch."

"Never let anyone order you to do something you know you don’t want to do, unless you’re sure it’s worth it." Don said. "That’s Rule Number One. Never give yourself completely to anyone."

"I knew that one."

"You forgot it today." Don said. "And it’s important. I’m not here to show you the latest in kung-fu, or to help you obtain inner peace, or teach you how to ying your yang. By the way, that’s a pretty big yang you got there." He was looking at my dick.

"That’s the lowest form of humor." I growled.

"Nah, the lowest form of humor are fart jokes."

"Somebody’s going to combine a dick joke and a fart joke one day, I just know it."

"I think that’s Pauly Shore." Don said.

"Nah, needs a dick." I countered.

"Anyhow." Don began to poke his finger in my chest. "You’ve got an important destiny, kid. And you’re here to take the first step toward it. And I’m your guide."

"That is such a load of bull." I burst out laughing.

"Don’t argue with the sensei, naked boy!" Don snapped. "Bad karma. Now, we should probably teach you some meditation techniques, prepare you for a journey of self-exploration."

"Do I get to smoke some weed?" I joked.

"Do I look like a spirit animal to you?" Don replied with mock annoyance. "Geez, Mark, get your cosmologies straight. I’m Japanese, with quasi-Buddhist overtones, not native American. The best I can do is to give you some really bad sake. Actually, I’m supposed to be completely Shinto, but I figured out that was crap centuries ago."

"Centuries ago? Let me guess, you’re immortal." I said, remembering his words. Not alive.

"Actually, I’m an immortal spirit. A wandering kami, though that’s something of a contradiction. This is my male form. Crystal, the instructor, she’s my female form. And Old Thomas, the guy who’s sleeping upstairs, is my wise elder form."

"This is just too weird." I said, beginning to pick up my clothes.

"It works for me." Don smiled, and he flexed his biceps. "The ladies love it."

"Please, let’s not have a pose-down." I was pretty irritated by him. "Besides, I can get laid more times than you any day."

"That much is true, alas." Don laughed. "Unfortunately, there’s this little thing called a vow of chastity that some priest made me swear a few centuries ago. All this beauty’s going to waste."

"I’m crying." I said sarcastically. Don gave me a mock kiss on the cheek and put his arm around my shoulders. I pushed him back - with his speed, I guess he let me - but he came back and took the clothes from my arms.

"Let me make this up to you." He handed me a kimono. "I’ll show you how to have a good time, Eastern-style."

We were in a whirlpool together. We’d been there for two hours, while several beautiful women scrubbed our bodies with soft sponges. Geishas, just like in the movies. The room was filled with the sound of bubbles and the chirping of birds over the loud speakers. I’ve had worse times. I saw Don lean back while a geisha stroked his chest and another brushed her fingers through his hair.

"Nice vow of chastity." I said.

"Loopholes." Don smiled and slapped me on the shoulder. "You relaxed?"

"Pretty much."

"Meditation technique lesson one. If you’re going to meditate, use it as an excuse to enjoy yourself. Meditation should never be work."

"Screw this meditation. When are we gonna fight?" I asked.

Don ducked into the water with an otter-like motion, and suddenly pulled me under. I was surprised by how strong he was. Very surprised; I was expecting to outmuscle him. Worse, he caught me off guard, and I hadn’t had time to catch my breath. He held me under for about six seconds before I managed to get a force field under my feet to lift ourselves out of the whirlpool. We were now fighting on the deck of the pool room, Don was sitting on my chest and hit me with six rapid punches to the face. I was barely conscious. He grabbed me by the hair, pulled me over to the pool, laid me on my stomach, knee to the back, and began dunking my head.

"Fight over yet?" Don asked. I mouthed an obscenity. He dunked my head again, held me for five seconds, then pulled it out. He did this five times before I could control my reaction enough to surrender. I began to cough.

"Let me guess, I’m a slow, unskilled amateur." I spat at him.

"Don’t be an ass, Mark." Don said. "You’re an awesome piece of flesh with incredible willpower. You’re just not on my level, but then, nobody is, except for a handful of gods and demons. But you might get there, provided you get some magical help and maybe a few mutations. Now let me know when you want to go at it again, I’m more than happy to beat you up."

I had recovered my strength. "Let’s do it." I said, and I suddenly found myself with a foot in my face.

A few days passed. It was pretty much Don and I, alone together, in a constant state of verbal baiting, fighting, and carousing. A few servants tended us, and I never saw any of his counterparts. Don explained that the gym was partly connected to his palace in some spirit lands, and had a lot of unseen space; I was never really much into this mystical crap, but I’d seen enough of the things that Sebastian had summoned that I didn’t dismiss it. I hadn’t been this badly manhandled since my first few weeks with Chariot, but my skills were slowly improving. I could anticipate Don’s movements a little better, and sometimes I got in a good shot. Don was many things, but he wasn’t invulnerable, and once, I managed to trap him in a force field and beat him bloody. I eventually lost that fight, but it was a lot closer than most.

"See, I told you that you’re good." Don smiled, rubbing my head. He had a liking for intimate body contact that annoyed the Hell out of me; I never cared for anyone in my personal space, except on my terms. But when it came down to basics, Don was a god of combat, and he could pretty much do whatever he wanted to do to me, and I had to accept it for the moment.

On the fourth day, I decided to try practicing my balance and my telekinesis. Don entered my room at six-thirty in the morning, seeing me suspended on an invisible strand of energy. I was trying to use the force fields to whirl me around at rapid speeds; people don’t expect quickness when they see someone as big as I am, and developing the talent might give me an edge.

"Nice." Don said. I grinned, grabbed him with an invisible coil of force, and sent him spiraling into the ceiling. Don hit with a thud; the force field cracked, and Don used his momentum to bounce from the ceiling, to the wall, down the floor, and then climbed up my force field and knocked me off. I braced myself with my force field, converted it into a slide, then constructed an invisible spiral turn that allowed me to make a last minute baseball slide that knocked Don off his feet.

Don regained his footing with a smile. "You know Mark, maybe you should be concentrating on developing this talent instead of your ‘put up your dukes’ skills."

"I can do both, right?" I said. "Besides, I like to fight. Man against man is just too big of a rush."

"Yeah, it is, isn’t it?" Don exclaimed. "I’ve been hearing rumors of a big fighting tournament going down soon. You should check it out."

"I’ll probably get my ass kicked." I said, remembering my fight with Mastiff. "You going?"

"It’s bad karma to fight in the rookie ranks." Don replied. "Besides I’ve been preparing to send you on your journey."

"So when do I embark on my grand destiny?" I finally muttered.

Don grinned, clasped my biceps until they hurt, and stared at me. "Just look into my eyes. Whenever you’re ready, okay?"

"How do I know I’m ready?"

"Oh just do it, you bald-headed monkey."

I frowned. "C’mon Mark, it’s for your own good. You can kill me when it’s over, if you don’t agree."

His eyes began to take on hypnotic overtones. I had to focus really hard. "Man, I wish you were a broad."

Don suddenly jerked, laughed, and turned away, tittering. It took him about twenty seconds to get back under control. "Sorry man. I thought about using my female form as your mentor, but you’d be too busy trying to hit on her to make any progress. It’s easier to accept combat training from another guy, and the Old Guy gets too tired."

"Just that all this homoerotic crap…" I muttered. I sometimes get really tired of being a sex object for people I didn’t want.

"It’s just friendly teasing, Mark. It’s actually a good way to bond us."

I grunted, not sure what I meant by that one, perhaps part agreement, part disgust. "Let’s just do it. Is this gonna be dangerous?" I asked.

"Oh yeah." The smile suddenly evaporated from his face.

"Cool!" I didn’t realize what the last remark meant. I began to stare in his eyes again, this time I grabbed him. He seemed surprised, but not displeased. I began to lose myself in them, in the facets of his eyes. The facets grew larger, and I realized what I was falling into. Into the atoms of possibility that shape a life.

"Mister Battle! Pull the switch" Dr. Cronos shouted.

I suddenly found myself dressed in a cool looking black uniform with Nazi symbols. We were in a big laboratory. I saw the Guardians in cages, and my hand was on a big electric switch. I got the impression that it would be fatal for them if I pulled it. "It’s you or me, I guess…" I said, as I began to throw the lever.

Chariot suddenly burst through the door and tackled me before I could pull the switch - no, not Chariot, but me dressed up in Chariot’s costume. My brother, dressed in a Chariot sidekick uniform, accompanied him and tackled Chronos. I was wrestling with myself.

"What the Hell do you think you’re doing, Mark?" we said.

"The wimp’s screwing up like he always does." This was a new voice, Mastiff’s. I turned around, and I found the lab had suddenly switched into a room that looked like a superhero headquarters. There was a circular table with a crossed swords insignia, like cavalry sabers, as its sole decoration. A number of costumed figures were standing around the table; monitors circled the room, showing many scenes of carnage in major American city. I was in a different, darker version of the Chariot costume. Mastiff was dressed in a different costume than his current one, a black bodysuit with a number of patches on his chest (perhaps the insignias of the superheroes he had killed, or supervillains, I had the odd feeling we were the heroes here).

"I disagree." Kayli rose and spoke up. Her eyes were gazing at me very sympathetically, and I felt an immensely strong attraction to her. "I don’t think it’s reasonable to expect anyone to remain coherent during the experience, especially someone with his biochemistry." Lady Arachne nodded and Vagabond also voiced his agreement. "I know it’s very difficult for you, Mark." Kayli came close to me and whispered, her tail flicking, and I felt the whiff of musk, an alien scent.

"Kayli? But your bounty isn’t high enough to make a run at you yet…" I muttered, barely coherent.

"Lord, he’s back in his bounty hunter days." Vagabond said, laughing. Angel put her hand on his shoulder and laughed as well. Vagabond. How did I know that was his name?

"I wonder if he remembers the ass kicking I gave him the first time we met." Mastiff snorted.

"This is good, it means he has time…" Arachne said. "Chariot, a lot has happened in the time..." Her voice faded into the wind, even though she was standing next to me. She seemed to be the leader of the assembly. The voice began to fade back in. "Most of the old heroes are dead. They finally got Avalon last month. There are demons everywhere. We needed to band together for our own survival."

"Even a weak link can be useful." Mastiff growled.

"What can I do to help?" I asked, and suddenly the world changed again. And I was naked again, and felt myself in the heat of sex. I looked down and found myself pumping Beguile’s loins.

"Don’t stop," she moaned in that terribly tantalizing voice of hers. Fighting every male instinct I possess, I pried myself loose from that magnificent body and rolled off her. "Hey!" she shouted.

"Not tonight, baby, I’m having a mystical experience." I said.

Beguile seemed annoyed. "You’ve been a real disappointment to me lately, you know."

"Don’t try to manipulate me, not tonight, bitch." I said. "I want answers. What’s your story?"

"You… how dare you speak to me that way! You’re my employee! Genetically engineered muscleheads are a dime a dozen, boy! Titus…"

"Tight Ass is a loser and you know it." I replied. "I just want to talk, baby. I thought that’s what women really want."

"Screw the chick flick bull, Battle." Beguile snapped at me. "I didn’t hire you for your conversational skills, you Neanderthal. I hired you because you’re a good lay, and you’ve got enough connections to be the perfect mole into the Guardians, once you earn enough of a reputation that every hero group in the country will want you. Of course, losing to Mastiff…"

"I’ll get him on the rematch and look twice as good." I replied. "The plan’s on course…"

"What plan, Mark?" Chariot was behind me. I was now in the Tower, the rebuilt Tower, Chariot’s HQ in Miami, naked on a parapet, staring into space.

"I think I’m under a spell, Luis." I said, shivering.

Chariot hugged me and cradled my head. "That little bitch. What’s she doing to you?"

"I can’t think. Can’t concentrate. So many things happening."

Chariot held me with paternal tenderness, his jaw quivering. "Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked you to be my partner after all."

"And perhaps I shouldn’t have accepted." I said. "But, my friend, we have to see this through together. You don’t have much time left, Luis. I want to be here for you. I just wish more people would support you."

"You aren’t very popular these days, Mark." Chariot noted. "But of course, there is your brother."

"No way. Not until Marakami says he’s ready. What’s on the agenda?"

Luis brought up a slide. I recognized all of the figures, even the ones I shouldn’t. "The Mockery Brigade is up to eight members. And Mammon may be the most powerful of all of them."

"The power of money." I noted. "A battlesuit that transmutes objects to gold. Cute."

I suddenly turned around and there was a battlesuit behind me, but not Mammon’s. It was a big red white and blue thing, firing a sonic beam. A whole platoon of Quartz agents, on flying sleds, were swarming around me. Reynolds, sitting in the middle of the battlesuit, was beaming.

"Free of you at last, free of you at last!" He said. "You traitorous son of a bitch!"

"Seig heil…" I snorted, feeling my body being driven into the dirt.

And driven into a deep underground cavern. I was standing next to Leonard Deschesne, the photographer, who was now in a Nazi officer’s uniform.

"It is not a perfect solution." He said in a formal, clipped tone that wasn’t his own. "But your body will withstand the ravages of age much better than Mr. Deschesne’s. Already the cancer in his blood burns me."

"You bastard…" I managed to croak through bloodied lips.

"Your anger is understandable." A Leonard that wasn’t Leonard said. "But I alone shall survive to endure the shame…"

"…that these animals are doing to my kingdom."

A blindfold was removed, and I could see a small chamber with a single coffin. Six young teenagers, wearing Mickey Mouse ears, had large handguns pointed at me. The coffin was opening, steam rose out of the enclosure and a body came out of its cryogenic suspension and began to lurch to life.

"Small world." I snorted.

The elderly, extremely deformed figure addressed me. He looked like a cross between "Dawn of the Dead", and Mr. Burns from "The Simpsons". "Hello Mr. Battle, I’m Walt Disney. And I’m rather tired of everything that I built being attacked by terrorists. So I came back from the dead to hire you to put these two-bit hoods in their graves, so little children can once again enjoy the delightful pleasures of the Happiest Place on Earth. And given what I’ve got sequestered away in my Swiss bank accounts, I can pay you extremely well for this. Apocalyse now, my…"

"…I know it is difficult, Mr. Battle." Avalon said, standing over Vivian’s dead body. Things had changed again. We were in another cavern, stinking and almost unbearably hot. This cavern also contained high-tech equipment (there’s nothing these nutcases like more than their overgrown erector sets), which was completely in ruins, and an opening, a tunnel, was bored into the side of a small volcano. The volcano had risen into a city - Honolulu, I think - whose streets were covered in corpses. "But you must understand what is most likely to come."

"Help me, please!" I begged the sorcerer. It felt like I was being burned by a fever dream, and it was getting worse. "I can’t take this!"

"I know. I know. My wife told me you wouldn’t be able to." Avalon said.

Blur suddenly appeared in front of us, his costume dressed in military stylings. "Cadre Three reports some progress in holding the demon advance. The Traveller is… performing as well as we expected."

"Poor fellow." Avalon shook his head.

Suddenly Vivian lurched to life, demonic possession evident in her undead eyes. I grappled her. No, it was Casey, my brother. We were on a wrestling mat in the wrestling room at Casey’s college, dressed only in shorts. Casey was now fully grown; he was an inch taller than me, and his chest was probably three inches thicker than mine. What a troll he’d become… I tried to duck under his guard and grab a leg, but he stood me up with brute strength and clamped a bearhug around my waist.

"I love you, big brother." He mocked me as he squeezed, putting pressure on my spine. The pressure was intense enough that any comeback line was lost in my throat.

I splayed my legs for leverage, but he was just too damn strong. He forced me down, grapevined my legs and arms, and pinned me. He jumped to his feet and danced around in celebration.

"I beat you, man! I beat you! I am The Man!"

"You’re still a kid," I said, rising to my feet.

"Let me go with you. C’mon, I’m ready."

"A wrestling match ain’t a fight, Casey…" I warned him, and then the matroom shifted, green padding to green grass, and I suddenly found myself in a strange cemetery, looking at a headstone. A coffin with an American flag draped over it, waiting to be lowered into the Earth. The name was blurred, the date was blurred, but I could see the inscription: Earth’s Strongest, Bravest and Best.

I’m not a person given to grief, but for reasons I didn’t understand, I felt overwhelmed…

"I know." The voice was comforting, but I recognized it as an enemy’s. I was now on a hilltop, somewhere in the mountains north of Los Angeles, standing with the Epee. The modern day Zorro had his sword pointed at my chest.

"Put it down if you want to talk," I said.

"You’ve sucker punched me once too often, you and that… woman." Epee said, almost swearing.

"Who the Hell are you talking about?" I snapped.

"You know who," the Epee said. "Why else have you hounded me at every turn? I made you, Mark Battle. I gave you your reputation. And I could destroy it, too."

"What’s your price?" I asked.

"The woman. Betray the woman, and help me…"

The hillside was suddenly in ruins, along with most of the rest of Los Angeles. A cloud of demons were retreating into the distance. I suddenly found myself shaking Armature’s hand. I was dressed in the Chariot’s costume again, this time with a flowing black cape. And epaulets?

"A pleasure to meet you. Wish I had time to talk. How about a beer at Dempsey’s when this is over?"

"If it’s still standing." I said.

"Yes, there’s always that." Armature nodded.

I blinked, and saw Marakami’s female form holding me.

"Whoa." I said, rocking slightly.

"Easy Mark. You’ve had a rough go at it."

"Where’s Don?" I said as I sat down. "What the Hell did all that mean?"

"My… brother… will reform some time in the future. That vision destroyed him. The power needed to open you to it nearly killed all of us. "

"And now I can’t kick his ass. Damn." Not very sympathetic, I know. But magic is just too weird for much sympathy. Wish he hadn’t done this.

"In time, he’ll return, or someone almost identical to him," she tried to explain.

We sat in silence for awhile. "I think I saw the future. Or possibilities, or a lot of other crap. A lot of Quantum Leap stuff, I guess."

"Want to talk about it?"

I shook my head. "Too trippy. Men don’t talk about those things."

"It cost us a great deal to help you think about those things." Marakami’s eyes flared.

"I’ll try to make an effort." I promised. "I just don’t think about the future. I’m about the worse person on Earth when it comes to that. There’s one thing I know for certain about tomorrow; there’s about a ninety percent chance it’s gonna suck more than today. And what I saw really, really sucked."

"Must not have had any sex in it." Marakami smiled. She nudged me affectionately, and my eyes lit up.

I turned to her. "Too bad about that oath of chastity." I said, shaking my head.

"But that applies only to my male form." Marakami said. "My female form is only a woman, and cannot be expected to honor an oath, given that women are naturally faithless creatures." She laughed, smiling brightly. "The oath was sworn way back in really sexist times."

"You wouldn’t mind comforting a guy who’s just been through a very horrendous experience." I said, advancing on her.

"I don’t think I’d vomit at the idea," she said.

Our lips met, our bodies entwined. We tumbled in slow motion, rolling on the floor like a statuette that wasn’t quite ready to crack, fresh from its sculptors hands. We touched, caressed, and well, if you aren’t a puritan or an idiot, you can guess the rest.

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