PSI Plague - Training Pt 2
Copyright (c) 2019 James Miehoff, All Rights Reserved.
This work may not be published whether for fee or free without this copyright.
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The following is a work of fiction and as such all characters mentioned herein are fictional and any resemblance to any persons living or fictional is coincidental.
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After saying our goodbyes to Leopold we walked back to the apartment in silence. Mostly. Mostly because I refused to rise up to the conversation bait Honey flicked my way like a fly fisherman who is sure there is a big trout out there just waiting.
It is not that I didn't want to talk to her and let her in, I just couldn't. Ever since that day the terrorists pulled the pin on that small nuke they stole from the Russians and my family shrank to just me, I get into these funks.
After we let ourselves in, Honey made a dramatic gesture of looking at the clock and announcing, "Look at the time. I need to get to bed so I am rested and ready for tomorrow. Tomorrow we are going to troll the electronics shops on the south side."
I nodded and made a non-committal grunt as I flopped into the recliner.
"Hmmph!" she commented and flounced off to the bedroom. When Honey flounces it is a sight worthy of an audience. Unfortunately tonight, her audience was sunk up to the armpits in a black miasma.
As I sat there despondently, a voice from the past crept into my consciousness. "Never let a night end angry or disappointed. Issues unresolved have a way of building up until they become overwhelming. Make your peace with your partner before either one of you goes to sleep." Sage words from my dead mother.
With those words ringing in my head, I got up and walked into the bedroom. Seeing Honey laying on her side on the bed, I walked up until I was next to her head. I bent down, gently kissed her and whispered, "I'm sorry."
The ghost of a smile caressed her lips as she whispered back, "Prove it by getting in here and rubbing my neck and shoulders."
I took the hint. My clothes hit the hamper in record time. I turned out the lights and snuggled up to her.
As with a lot of women who possess large breasts, she generally found it uncomfortable to lie fully face down on a bed. But she stretched out and rolled three quarters over as my hands found her neck and shoulders and began to massage. She began to purr.
It wasn't long before the purring turned into the long slow breathing of my sleeping diva. I ran my hands down her spine gently and then cupped her ass cheek. Without waking, she pulled my arm up and wrapped it around her waist and put her arm on it to make sure it stayed.
I was sure I wouldn't sleep, but the warmth of her body and the rhythmic sound of her breathing and I was asleep and deep into dreaming before I knew what hit me.
"NOW THEN, ALL THREE OF YOU CANDY ASSES CAN RUN 12 MILES IN LESS THAN 3 HOURS. SO IT IS TIME TO STEP IT UP. YOU SEE BEFORE YOU THREE PACKS THAT HAVE BEEN LOVINGLY AND TENDERLY PACK BY YOURS TRULY TO ADD A LITTLE MORE FUN TO YOUR FUN RUN TODAY.
"FOR OUR DELICATE LITTLE LADY, THERE ARE 20 POUNDS OF DAINTY LITTLE DELIGHTS CONTAINED IN HER HOT PINK LADYLIKE PACK.
"FOR MR. JOSEPHSON, WE HAVE A 30 POUND PACK TO CELEBRATE THE AMOUNT OF WEIGHT HE HAS LOST OVER THESE PAST FEW WEEKS. It is about 30 pounds isn't it Josephson?"
"SIR! THIRTY EIGHT POUNDS LOST! SIR!"
"WELL CONGRATULATIONS, JOSEPHSON! YOU ARE GETTING 30 OF IT BACK!
"AND FOR OUR STAR PUPIL, MR. SMITH, WE HAVE A 40 POUND PACK."
He didn't need to flash me that grin, but he did anyway. I hate that grin.
"NOW THEN. SINCE YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO GET THOSE PACKS ON WITHOUT SOME ASSISTANCE, TURN TO THE PARTNER ON YOUR RIGHT AND HELP THEN GET THEIR PACK ON. YOU BOTH CAN HELP MR. SMITH WHEN YOU ARE DONE.
"BY THE WAY, YOUR 3 HOURS STARTED TWO MINUTES AGO."
With that we all scrambled to get the packs on and get out the door.
It would have been too easy to just mark off a 12 mile course and make us run it. No, we had to be tortured further. On the track was an overhead sign board with four timer/counters. You slapped your button every time you ran under it and it registered your laps and flashed a colored light to tell you how well you were pacing yourself. Bright green if you were ahead of pace shading down to green if you on pace. Yellow, if you were falling off pace and red if you were behind pace. Bright red if you were really behind pace.
We all hated that board. I snuck out one night and set it on fire. Metalhead said he snuck out and knocked it over and stomped on it. Goth Girl wouldn't say what she did to it. But it was to no avail. Every day there was the board on the track looking like nothing had happened to it. Have I said we all hated that board?
I was flashing red on my last two laps after holding green for almost 8 miles. When I completed and headed for the door, Leopold looked at his watch and pushed the remote. The door swung closed. As I passed him, he grinned at me and said. "You almost made it. Don't feel bad. Nobody makes it on the first day with a full pack." I was just too damned tired to hit him.
If you didn't make it before he closed the door, you had to go to the front door and take the walk of shame through the building in your training suit. Everybody inside knew what that meant.
Plus it added about a mile to your hike that day.