Chapter #32Chelsea in Chains by: Seuzz  You gasp. A three-way? With Chelsea Cooper and Steve Patterson? You swallow, torn between the desire to run far and fast, and the desire to show how cool you are.
The latter impulse wins. Your hands jerk and tremble as you pull off your shoes and belt and shirt. Patterson just murmurs a word to Chelsea and raises his arms in the air and lets her undress him. Less than a minute later, all three of you are entirely disrobed.
You feel very conscious of your nakedness, and how badly you compare with the other two. Chelsea, of course, is a goddess. Steve is tall and rangy, and every bit of him seems long and lean. But Chelsea just smiles radiantly at you, and if Steve has anything thoughts about your twig-like arms and legs and chicken chest, he keeps them to himself. He just gestures you over to the gym mat and tells you to lay down. "Blow job," he tells Chelsea. "Take your time. You gasp and arch your back as her hot tongue slides up the underside of your cock.
The next ten minutes are highly awkward for you. Something like twin vision enfolds you. On the one hand, you are completely engrossed in the charged excitement of what's going on down below. Chelsea gradually moves from licking and stroking and kissing to softly sucking. Your breathing turns sharp and short; you want it to continue, to keep going, to never stop, and yet with each stroke and each dainty swallow you feel yourself rising, rising; it's like fizzy seltzer water bobbing and ebbing, but each time cresting a little higher. You struggle to tamp it down, to let it build until it can really explode.
At the same time, you are mortified to find you don't know what to do with your hands or legs. You keep wanting to grab onto something, to grip a solid piece of furniture to keep yourself from floating toward the ceiling with mounting excitement, but there's nothing to hold. Meanwhile, your legs keep twitching and jerking. You try to keep them still, for not long after Chelsea started on you, Steve knelt down behind her, apparently with the intent of doing her doggy style. You keep your eyes closed, desperate not to meet his eyes, but you can tell from the way Chelsea rocks back and forth that he is thrusting away inside her.
And then the moment comes, and everything disappears except the hard, foamy pulses of your cock.
After that, you crawl off the mat, to huddle and recover yourself, while Patterson lays down and cuddles with Chelsea. You can hear them kissing and caressing each other noisily and wetly, but you don't care. 'Tis very bliss to lay limply on the cold, hard wooden floor.
You don't know how much time passes, but eventually Steve calls you over and suggests a swap of positions: now he will take the blow job while you take her from behind. You're still not recovered, but you're not going to argue. Hairs scratch as you gently try to guide yourself into Chelsea, and then she's very soft and wet. But though you try manfully to work yourself back up into a state of excitement—You're doing Chelsea Cooper!—actually you wind up sagging weakly against her. Eventually you just pull out and curl up into a ball until an explosion of gasps from Steve tells you he's come again.
* * * * *
"Get a new lock for that basement in the school by your house," Patterson tells you as you exit the gym togther.
"How come?"
"We can't take a chance on Gordon finding our little score, or busting in on us if we've got her out," he replies. "We'll use your old bolt hole."
"But what'll I tell Caleb and Keith? Sometimes we hang out there."
"Who'd you rather hang out with, them or Chelsea?" Good point. "I don't care what you tell them. Tell them I told you I was taking it over and made you swap out locks. Make a copy of the key to the new lock and give it to me. This weekend we'll take your old golem—the one that you made—and move it in there."
Mentally, you file away the implied admission that he has made his own golem. Aloud: "Keith might try breaking in. Maintenance guys might try breaking in."
"So we'll keep the golem hidden in the back, and stash Chelsea's mask where no one will find it. Christ, what's your problem, Prescott? Why are you trying to piss all over things?"
"I just don't want to see things fucked up," you insist. "That was ... really awesome." You gulp. "Uh, thanks."
"Well, you're welcome." Patterson's eyes are still cool, but he does smile at you. "You did the work. And we got us a special connection now, you and me. Right?"
To your surprise, he holds out a hand. You take it, and he encloses it in a hearty clasp. And yet, even as he grips it tightly, you can't help but see the chill behind his eyes.
* * * * *
As you might have predicted, Caleb and Keith take the news about the new lock badly. "The fuck?" Caleb exclaims at lunch the next day. "He's already got his own place here, on campus. What's he need ours for?"
"It's not like we even really use it," you point out.
"We used it the other night," Caleb says. "When we changed. I don't want to be up in the fu— loft with Lynch or Black when we have to change out for a job."
"I can get us in there if we want," Keith says confidently.
"That's a really bad idea," you retort. "If Patterson finds out—"
"How's he gonna find out? How often is he gonna be there?"
"He's doing something with that book!" Caleb exclaims. "That's gotta be it. Remember how we had to use it to make our golem? It's something big and dangerous, and he can't do it up in the fuck room."
Actually, that sounds plausible, and you wonder you hadn't thought of it yourself. But you'll have a key, so you discount it. "Don't go snooping," you repeat. "He would get really pissed off."
The others continue to grumble.
* * * * *
Late that afternoon you meet up with Patterson at his house, where he has your old golem stashed under a sheet in the garage. You groan at the thought of trying to move that massive slab, but Patterson just smiles and drops a mask onto it; an instant later Caleb Johansson materializes, and Patterson tosses some old clothes at it. "I love how mobile these things are," he grins. "Tell it to get dressed, then meet me out at the school."
"The fuck is going on?" the fake Caleb asks after he's gone.
"Never mind," you retort. You feel very queer talking to the thing, and can't meet its eyes. "You're a fake and you know it. Just shut up and come with me."
It's an eerie but uneventful drive. At the school you take off the old lock and put on a new one; when Patterson arrives a short time later you give him the extra key, and then the three of you descend into the basement. "Like old times, huh?" Patterson joshes. From his backpack he draws out another mask and hands it to you with a wink. "Have yourself some fun. This set up will be convenient for you too, won't it? Don't let your schoolwork suffer because you're getting laid every afternoon." With another wink and grin, he saunters out.
You glance at the golem. Your "shut up" rule apparently is still in effect, for the thing doesn't speak but instead grimaces and gestures wildly. With a sigh, you tell it to take its clothes off, and when it is naked you rip its face off. That done, you glance down at the other mask: as you'd hoped, it's Chelsea's mask. You shiver in anticipation, and before you can change your mind jam it onto the golem.
The effect is again instantaneous. She glances around. "This is really weird," she says, then looks you up and down with vague distaste. "You again, huh? Lemme guess. You wanna take up what you couldn't finish the other day."
You twinge at the thrust—these things really do act like their originals. "I thought Patterson told you to think I was sexy."
"I don't know what came over me," she sniffs. "Whatever it was, it wore off."
It must be because of the shift from one golem to another. But before you can give it an order of your own, you hear muffled voices. For a moment, you think it must be Patterson returning, but as they continue, you panic at the realization it must be someone else. "Get down," you growl at Chelsea, and when she doesn't move you pull her to the floor, sit on her, and yank her mask off.
And as you return to your feet, the door opens and you look up at he astonished faces of Caleb and Keith.
For a moment you stare at your friends, and they stare at you. And then a sudden instinct takes over. "The fuck do you think you're doing, assholes?" you hiss, and try to fill your eyes with Patterson's distinctive kind of ice.
Tilley gasps, but Caleb glances over his shoulder with a frown before returning back to you. "Will?" he says.
"Yeah, you can call me that while I'm wearing this mask," you retort. "You'll call me something else after I'm out of it, and you'll scream when you say it."
"But we saw you ... drive off," Keith blurts out.
"Funny how I can be in two places at once. You'd almost think it was magic." You glare murder at him.
"I'm sorry," Keith says, turning very pale. "We thought— We were just—"
"Shut the fuck up and get out."
They both stagger back. Keith backpedals furiously, but Caleb keeps eyeing you; you do your best to stare him down, and continue to glare from the doorway after they've gone.
Afterward, you close the door and sink to the ground, sweating. You don't want to get them in trouble, but they're bound to say something to the real Patterson anyway.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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