by Lucian Bane
They drove back to the farm and the conversation flew. “I can’t wait to meet Gramma,” Steve said. “Is there anything I should know ahead of time that would save us all any awkward moments?”
“She’s just an old timey angel,” Tara said.
“With shotguns,” Lucian added. “Or her steel barkers, as she called them.” Lucian laughed and stole a kiss from a grinning Tara.
“Steel barker, wow!” Steve shot a glance over his shoulder. “So she’s an authentic mid-western gal!”
“Ohhhh yes.” Tara nodded without stop. “She’s not short of wise old sayings.”
“And wise-ass,” Lucian said. “My favorite.”
A single laugh shot out of Steve. “We’ll get along just great, I think. And so we’re what… four days from the big day?”
“Yes sir,” Tara said.
“You both nervous?”
“Nah,” Lucian said. “Maybe.”
Tara regarded him. “You are?” she mouthed.
“It’s a big deal!” Steve said. “You are joining souls for a journey unlike any you’ve ever journeyed, my friend.” The laugh he gave had a maniacal ring to it, the, you’re in for a real ride, kind of ring. A ride you’ll never recover from.
“You sure your wife is okay with you coming early?”
“Uhhhh, I’m not going to lie buddy. She wasn’t all that thrilled over me staying after, and working. Until I told her the amount of money.” This time the laughter he rattled out held a bit of mischief. Like he’d won a spar. I bet they had plenty of those. “By the way, when will I get the details of my job description? I want to begin a master plan to be most effective and productive employee you’ve ever seen. You will not be wasting a single copper on me, that’s a fact.”
Tara eyed Lucian with wide eyes and he shrugged. She pointed to herself and Lucian shrugged again. “I’ll do it,” Tara mouthed.
“Well, Steve,” Tara began. “As you know, we won the million in Dom Wars.”
“That you did!” Steve raised a triumphant fist.
“Yeah well…”
Steve shot a few panicked glances in the mirror and then over his shoulder. “What? What happened? Oh my God, did they-what did they do, are they giving you trouble about it?”
“You could say that,” Lucian muttered.
“I need to pull off.” Steve brought the vehicle to a pretty speedy stop along the side of the country road and Tara gave Lucian a worried glance.
Steve put the vehicle in park and turned in his seat only to run into the seatbelt. A few moments later, he faced them, an elbow propped on his seat, his other hand on his knee. The look on his face was a good sign. Like shit was going to get real if anybody messed with his friends. “Please tell me they aren’t scam artists.”
Chapter Fourteen
“No, not scam artists,” Tara said. “Just… well there were things in the contract if you won that we… may have missed.”
“We just never looked into the little asterisk next to the “win a million,” Lucian clarified.
“Oh my God,” Steve gasped. “There was a catch.”
“You can say that again.”
“Tell me.” The constipated look on his face along with the horror in his whisper was classic Steve and a good sign.
“You want to tell him?” Tara asked.
“I can if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t mind, but I don’t want to misconstrue anything.”
“There isn’t really anything to misconstrue,” Lucian assured.
“Hello?” Steve said, eyes wide. “Still clueless!”
“I’ll tell,” Lucian said.
“No, I’ll tell.”
“Mother of the precious baby Jesus,” Steve hissed, “Spit it!”
“Fine, you tell,” Lucian said.
Tara sighed with closed eyes. “I feel like you’re upset with me now.”
“Are you…” Steve looked between them, “Are you serious? I’m begging. One of you, any one of you. Tell me what is going on.”
“It’s really not that big a deal if you think about it,” Tara said. “All we have to do is train five couples within five years in the art of Dominance and submission.”
Steve jerked his head back a bit. “Teach? Like how? You mean write a manual? A book or something?”
“Now, wouldn’t that have been much easier?” Lucian said impressed.
“They want us to actually have “classes”.” Tara shot a hand up when Steve’s eyes popped. “Nothing kinky or weird. Although we do have to have cameras in the actual class for proof “or for the purpose of studying to develop the best method” she quoted in the air with fingers.
“Wow,” Steve said. “So, five couples in five years. That’s just one a year, should be easy?”
“We also have to sell products.”
His eyes popped again. “Products?”
“Yes,” Lucian said. “Let me spell it all out for him. We have to train five couples in the lifestyle using a type of standard provided by Gladiator’s Inc.”
“A handbook, basically,” Tara said.
“On top of that, we have to sell their products. The catch for us in all of this is where we have to do it.”
A moment is all it took for Steve’s mouth to drop as he pointed down with a finger. “Here? In Missouri?”
“You got it,” Lucian said. “Second catch is this. The town is extremely religious and up-tight. That means if we want to live here and not be ostracized, or ruin the family name, or possibly be run out of town—something we can’t let happen with Gramma’s roots being here—then we have to find a way to do this under wraps.”
His eyes were still wide. “Oh my. How do you plan to hide something like that?”
“Well my dear friend…” Lucian put an arm on the back of the seat. “We were hoping you could help us figure that out.”
“And…” Tara looked at Lucian then Steve. “Help us… maybe…. carry it out. Oh and, if we don’t do this, we don’t get the rest of our money.”
“Yeah, that,” Lucian said.
Steve’s eyes went back wide. “How much did you get?”
“Each fifty thousand. Which we already got. And we get twenty-five thousand every month for the next thirty eight months. Each of us.”
“If you do those two things,” he double checked, putting his finger across his lips, the wheels turning in his mind already.
“Correct.” Tara and Lucian both answered. “And I would prefer to train all five couples at the same time and be done,” Lucian added. “So we can get our lives back.”
Steve nodded while thinking. “So you want to train five couples in the art of dominance and submission in one go, and sell sexual toys, all in a town that will throw you out should you get caught. Which explains your need for an undercover operation.”
“Yes,” Tara said.
They both waited for his conclusion. “So there is a confidentiality issue here,” he said with eyes wide. “That’s bad.”
“Yyyyeah,” Lucian agreed.
“I still think if we pay the couples, they’d keep their mouth shut,” Tara said.
“Money can buy just about anything,” Steve agreed.
“I agree too,” Lucian said. “But what about the products?”
Steve’s face crimped in distaste. “How many do you have to sell?”
“One of everything in the catalog. They’re sending one of every fucking thing. At least we have thirty-eight months to sell it.”
“How many in the catalog?” Steve asked.
“No clue. But the first thing we need to do is find a place to conduct these classes and give them an address to hide the products.”
“Oh no, no.” Tara shook her head rapidly. “Have them send it to the farm, it’ll be easier to hide. If it goes to town, we’re more likely to be caught. They’ve got hawk-eyes at every corner there.”
“Wow,” Lucian said. “We’d better make sure and watch for that fucking delivery, then.”<
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Panic shot Tara forward a bit. “When are they sending it?”
“Fuck, we need to call and find out,” Lucian said. “I didn’t think of that.” He looked at Tara. “We said yes to the old man the day after we met him. Which was…”
Tara clenched her eyes, thinking. “We got here Tuesday. So we agreed Wednesday, the second of December.”
“And today’s the twelfth,” Lucian said.
“That’s nine days,” Steve said. “They must be sending it ground, could take up to fourteen days.”
Lucian scrubbed his face a bit. “The other problem is, they want address verification, contact names, phone numbers—so they can “establish future relations” with them.
Steve hissed in pain. “That’s going to be hard.”
“To hide, yes.” Lucian said.
“Why not set up fake addresses and identities?” Steve suggested.
Lucian nodded slowly. “We might be able to do that for a few.”
“Hey!” Tara snapped her fingers. “The students could be required to buy the toys, or we could gift some to them, whatever.”
“Okay, yes,” Lucian said, “and use their addresses for shipping verification.”
“Wait,” Steve held up a hand. “You mean to say they’re expecting people in a town like this to have synthetic sexual organs delivered to their door step? Can’t they use a-a P.O. Box?”
“I can check again,” Lucian sighed. “He said we could work undercover. He said he understood the dynamics involved.”
“Who said?” Steve wondered.
Tara announced on a single nod, “The owner of Gladiator.”
“Oh shit,” Steve whispered. “Well, if he’s aware of the dynamics, maybe call him and explain the issue you have with your reputation and family?”
Lucian shot a laugh. “He’s a nice guy but he wants what he wants.”
“Which is?” Steve raised his brows. “To sell products and a lifestyle to people that will keep buying them. If you ensure him that’s happening, he may allow a variation, even if it is unorthodox.”
“But even if we do P.O. Boxes,” Lucian said, “we still need to find buyers. And he’ll want validation that real people bought them.”
Steve squinted his eyes with an angled look. “What if… you sell the toys but… not…as toys?”
Lucian and Tara looked at each other, then at Steve. “Explain,” Lucian said.
“Welllll,” Steve said lightly, “A lot of that stuff in the catalog is so god-awful strange, people really wouldn’t know what they were getting or even what it was intended for.”
“Oh my God,” Tara said. “You mean find other… uses for them?”
“Well some of them,” Steve nodded. “Like that nightmarish lady part,” he whispered. “A farmer would never guess what that is. He could use it as some type of… scarecrow, or… mop if you mount a stick in that devil’s abyss.”
Hysterical laughter shot out of Lucian and Tara at the same instant. “Oh my God,” Lucian finally managed.
“What about the blow up dolls?” Tara squealed.
“Well…” Steve contemplated, taking her question seriously. “The blow up dolls could very easily be dressed in normal clothes and called plain ole’ dolls.” Lucian and Tara bent over each other, unable to breathe while Steve continued, oblivious. “For the god-awful gaping hole on its face we could… maybe fill with candy or… each could have a special message saying they’re so happy and excited to finally have a little girl to belong to and call their own. A sister.”
Lucian kicked his feet and rocked in fits, his sides hurting now.
“Oh my God,” Tara squeaked. “Candy!” She held on to Lucian and peeped, “She’s so happy!”
“Well, let’s hear it, “Steve said, offended. “Top me if it’s so darn funny.”
“No,” Lucian gasped, holding up a hand. “You’re the man. I swear to God, you… are… the man.” He let out a loud groan in exhaustion.
“Oh, and that awful rectal pump,” Steve muttered. “Could be a kind of emergency, manual, fuel syphon. For like a motorcycle.”
Steve put them back into breathless laughter and finally huffed, getting buckled back in. “Let me know when you two are ready to discuss this maturely. I’ll get us to the farm. I think I can do that without being laughed down.”
Lucian and Tara fought to get their apologies out but laughter stole it every single time.
Damn, Lucian had missed Steve.
Chapter Fifteen
“Gramma?” Tara called, opening the front door. “We’re here,” she sang. “With Steve.”
“I’m a comin’,” she called from the kitchen.
“A comin’,” Steve whispered, tickled. “Precious.”
Lucian and Steve sat in the living room and Tara went to fetch her Gramma, meeting her on the way with a tray of goodies. “You can’t do one visit without carrying on, can you?” Tara whispered, taking the tray from her.
“Not offen we get company. Practicin’ my socializin’ is all, so I’m ready for the big day.”
Tara kissed her on the cheek, noticing she wore her Sunday best clothes. One of her favorites, the mint green skirt and jacket made of light wool. And a white satin shirt. “You even wore your nice shoes, I’m so proud of you,” Tara whispered, smiling at the white pumps with the square heels and toes.
“You should be proud,” she mumbled. “And these here aren’t shoes, they’re feet demons.”
Tara snickered and hurried into the living room where Steve and Lucian stood to greet Gramma.
“Ms. Reese!” Steve hurried over, embracing her briefly then stepping back with hands clasped. “It’s an honor to finally meet the woman responsible for our reigning Dom Wars queen.”
“Dom what?” Gramma turned a confused look from Tara to Lucian.
Tara swiped the air dismissively. “He just means the war in the work force, Gramma. It’s a man’s world and hard on women. But I conquered that.”
Gramma nodded in ready agreement while Steve stood frozen in oh shit. “That it is. I’ve heard right nice things about you Steve. And please call me Dorothy.”
Steve broke into a surprised face. “Dorothy? My mother’s name,” he said, grinning at Lucian and Tara as though relieved to have something impressive to cover up his slip.
“Is that a fact,” Gramma said, sounding a tad impressed.
“It most certainly is,” Steve said, crisply. “She was the expression of saint-li-hood, God rest her sweet soul.”
“She passed?”
“Yes ma’am, many years ago.”
“Don’t be ma’am-n’ me. I feel too old as it is.”
“Yes—” Steve stopped short and shot out a laugh. “Nearly did it again. Fair enough. No ma’am for you my lady.”
Gramma seemed pleased with that and sat on the single chair next to the couch, crossing her ankles.
“You have a lovely home, Dorothy.” Steve looked around. “Is this where you’re holding the ceremony?”
“Sure is. It’ll be a tight fit, but having it outside was out of the question in the dead-a winter.”
“Absolutely.” Steve nodded and shot a hand out and held it at Gramma. “You know, I was going to offer to sing,” Steve tossed Lucian and Tara a glance. “If you want, of course.”
“Ohhhh, my God!” Tara clapped. “Would you?”
“You can sing?” Gramma asked, skeptical.
“Show her!” Tara wiggled on the couch next to Lucian who jerked her close to him by the waist, wrapping her in his arms.
“What would you like to hear?” Steve asked Gramma.
“Well, I was plannin’ on a fifties selection.”
Steve gasped. “One of my favorite eras!” He turned to Lucian and Tara. “Did you guys know that was when music began to get really groovy?”
Gramma chuckled and blushed. “You got that right. Me and your Grampa went to the dance offen’. We won dance competitions too.” She aimed a twinkling gaze at Steve who
boomed his laughter and smacked his leg.
“Sing us something,” Tara said.
“How about The Lion Sleeps Tonight, the one sang by The Tokens.”
Gramma nodded and smiled. “I like that one.”
Steve stood and jumped right into the song, his voice carrying in the high ceilinged room. Lucian held her head and planted a kiss on her temple and Tara stole a look at Gramma. Oh boy, she was loving it. Her mouth hung open in awe and her foot was a rappin’ on the floor.
When done, Tara couldn’t stay still for all the excitement bubbling inside her so she gave him a standing applause, looking at Gramma. “I told you! He’s amazing!”
“Would ya… happen to know any of the love songs?”
Steve pointed at her. “What about Unchained Melody by the Righteous Brothers?”
Gramma put a hand over her heart. “That was me and Wilbur’s song.”
Steve placed a hand on his chest with eyes closed, head shaking a little. “It’s a classic,” he said with reverence. “Also, one of my favorites.” His eyes remained closed and he brought an invisible microphone slowly to his mouth, swaying to the music in his mind. The opening lyrics filled the room like a delicate silky thread, getting slowly louder as Steve raised his right hand in the air. Oh dear God, he could sing. His voice was strong and loud and he had the tune right on, the haunting melody gripping his vocal chords with its undying passion.
Gramma put her hand over her mouth as tears filled her brown eyes until they glowed and glittered. The sight stole Tara’s breath and clenched her heart.
Lucian suddenly walked over to Gramma and held a hand out to her. “May I have this dance, Dorothy?”
Excitement and joy had Tara grinning until it hurt. When Gramma shot her a wondering glance, Tara nodded and smiled. She put her hand in Lucian’s and he guided her a few feet. Tara fought not to sob at the beautiful sight as Gramma placed her hand on his shoulder and Lucian placed his hand on her upper back. Gramma said something up to Lucian and whatever he told her made her blush and nod.