The Bridge -- Chapter Ten -- Locked and Loaded
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This work is copy written by the author.
This work has been a slow burn, but will contain instances of pregnancy, interracial sex, lesbianism, romance, intrigue and affection. There is some Dominance and submission, and a fair amount of heroism and family love and fun.
Don't expect a ton of sex in this one, but given the contents of this chapter, it's in the Lesbian Sex category, but has spent time in the Romance and Interracial categories and will probably move around if it progresses. Which it will do if enough people like it. There is more than sex by reference in this chapter, In, time, there will be more orgasms, and some pretty rough sex. I expect Chapter Twelve to be in the NonConsent/Reluctance Category.
This is one of my shorter chapters, and it really moves the story forward. Please comment, if you are of a mind. I live on the stuff.
Locked and Loaded
When the kids came in to wake me, I was thanking God it was Saturday. I looked at my supercell and it said ten-thirty. No wonder I feel so good. Thanks to the ladies I got a shit ton of sleep. Just when I needed it. Georgia and George were all over me. They ate their breakfast hours ago and wanted me to get up so they could make me my breakfast as well. My children want to make me breakfast. I'm terrified. There it goes, that pounding in my head that I was so expecting.
When I stepped, or rather should I say I was dragged into the kitchen, there was Herman munching on one of Bertha's scones. Now that's what I want for breakfast. And coffee. I smelled the coffee all the way upstairs and it helped to draw me into Bertha's office. I was surprised to see Herman as I expected Duane would be on duty. He always seems to be. We were supposed to meet and go shoot some guns. It would be my first time firing a weapon and I was both excited and frightened.
When Duane came walking through the front door it was time for me to extend an olive branch to Holly. I would ask her to come with us so that she could be qualified in the use of firearms. It would give us that first opportunity to communicate with each other without getting too close. And there would be a strong, neutral party present in case things got out of hand and someone had to break up a girl fight. When Duane walked in, Herman walked out to be with the kids, scone in hand.
"Holly, Duane is taking me out this afternoon to learn how to shoot a gun. Please come with us so you can learn too. Concerns have arisen and I think all adults in our house should be prepared to be armed should the need arise."
"That's the goofiest thing I've ever heard. We have the best security of anyone we know. Why do we need more guns in the house? I know I don't want my Celeste around guns. What if one of the kids got their hands on one and an accident happened?"
"Of course we will take every precaution. I am calling Linnie on Monday and having her process the paperwork to get my gun registered and insured, me licensed to own and carry, and I'm going out with Duane and buying myself a gun."
Before Holly could get a word in edgewise, Duane spoke up.
"I brought five different weapons for you to try out. Let's see if we can find the best one for you before we go out and buy one. Bertha tells me we are having mushroom cheesesteaks for lunch. We can go after then. Are the kids taken care of?"
"Under control. They will be spending the afternoon with Bertha and Lizzie. And Herman, of course. They're down at 'The Farm' now picking some produce for Lizzie to take home with her. After that they are going to take the kids down to Kennett Square. Lizzie wants to pick up some exotic freeze-dried mushrooms and give the kids a tour of the Mushroom Capitol of the World."
I looked over at Holly and just as she is getting ready to speak, but before a word could come out.
"Come with us to shoot. And then we will have a nice picnic lunch and talk."
"Talk about what?"
"You. Me. The future."
"The future? What are you talking about?"
I tried to remember that Holly had no idea I had seen the videos of her with two big black cocks in her; she had no idea of the thoughts running through my head of her being enslaved by a man who wants nothing but to bring us all harm. But my blood was boiling, and I was set to jump over the table and strangle her. Instead, I slapped my palms down on the kitchen island and shouted out, "Just come with us, Holly. We need to do this, and we need to do it now."
"What about the kids?"
"You heard me, the kids are going to Kennett with Lizzie and Bertha. We have the whole afternoon to do this."
"And we start right now," Duane said. "There's lots to know about a gun before you take it out and shoot it." And he went outside to his car and fetched a satchel. When he came back in, he opened the satchel and started pulling out holstered guns, one after another. There were small ones and big ones. With the guns all laid out, he began to lecture us on gun safety and the maintenance of firearms.
He laid a towel down on the kitchen island while Holly and I looked on as he drew a pistol from its holster and took it apart right in front of us. We never said a word as he oiled pertinent parts and reassembled the gun. He cocked the gun, and pointed it into space. "Click" was the only sound it made when he pulled the trigger. "Expect a much bigger sound when it's loaded. For that reason, I'll be bringing sound canceling headphones. Believe me, you will thank me later. Now, I want each of you ladies to disassemble and reassemble the gun. Miss. Todd."
I took the weapon from him, gingerly, and started to flick levers and push buttons and, surprisingly enough, the gun came apart and I laid out all the pieces on the towel. He looked it over and beamed with approval. "Okay. That was the easy part. Now you have to take all those pieces and make them into a gun again. Think you can do that?"
"Watch me." With a bit of fumbling and a bit of help from Duane, I managed to get the gun back together. When I had completed my task, I pointed it straight up and pulled the trigger. "Click." And instead of handing the gun back to Duane, I handed it to Holly, as if daring her to get it done.
Well, she'd seen him do it and me do it, so she'd better be prepared to get it done. And she did. It's the way that beautiful brain of hers works. She took the gun apart much faster than I did and although she fumbled a bit putting it back together, she got the job done and also made the gun click when she pulled the trigger. And then she gave me a look. As if she is trying to convey to me that she is taking this seriously. Well, we'll see just how seriously when we get her out on the firing line.
Duane then gave us an interesting test. He pulled two of the other guns out of the satchel, both different than the gun we'd been working with, and gave one to each of us. After pulling out another towel, he laid down a gun on each of the towels. "Okay, ladies. I want you to take your guns apart and lay the parts out on the towel. Let's see who can do it the fastest."
"But we've never seen you take these guns apart. How are we going to know what to do," Holly protested.
