Ch. 6: Preview #4

Still gotta add a couple renders for this chapter, but here's the next bit of writing.

***

Jen felt wryly satisfied when her finally-dressed teammate flew into the kitchen a full four minutes after she’d left him.  Geez, he’d gotten dressed slow, and now the shortsighted little twit had to bust his ass just to cram a few handfuls of cereal into his mouth and pour some milk down his gullet as a chaser, spilling on both the floor and his shirt.  What a ridiculous slob.  He wasn’t exactly impressing her so far today, what with his frantic self-inflicted scrambling and melodramatic flailing.

“H…How much time’s left?” he had the gall to ask her – and then to get impatient when she sat calmly sipping her coffee and didn’t reply.  “Ugh!  You gotta tell me!  It’s no fair if you don’t.”

Wow, he was still in a mood; still pushing her buttons.  You’d think she’d get even angrier this time; but weirdly, she didn’t.  Something about his spastic, shrill behavior just seemed so over the top; so ludicrous.  And honestly kinda beneath her.  Like now: clearly frustrated, he threw up his hands and literally stomped to the fridge, muttering under his breath and scowling at her as if she’d done something wrong, as he snatched an apple and started chomping into it like a feral child.

Huh.  Rather than making her upset, this scene was actually quite eye-opening for her.  In the past, his angry whims had the power to make her life a living hell.  Which they so often did.  But now, even his angriest and most venegeful efforts couldn’t do a damned thing to her!   Nothing.  Nada.  Completely harmless.  She had the awesome luxury now to treat them as what they are: temper tantrums, which would change nothing.

She took quite a lot of pleasure, actually, in ignoring his disgruntlement as she calmly set down her coffee cup and started for the living room.  He seemed hell bent on making his frustration known through gripes and groans, but she simply looked right over him toward the wall clock, waiting for the the last of his five minutes to expire.

Ding  Her phone lit up with a text.  It was Alice.  << Hola chica – big news for ya.  Café again, to chat? >>

Hmm.  Jen was about to visit her school.  << I’m heading out in a half hour.  How bout right now, my place? >>

<< Perfect.  Be right there. >>

Jen looked past her miffed teammate to see there were just seconds left.  She could kinda sense him getting quieter and more tense as she stood, stretched, and strode to the living room.

And as the five minutes expired, she raised her fingers – and snapped.

She looked down in time to see him gulp and stand up ramrod straight.  Yesssss!  She’d trained him on Rule Seven several times last night, and already it seemed that training was paying off.  Damn—and just two seconds after she stuck her hand out in front of her, he’d already set his own hand atop hers!  Oh, this was great.

Theo cringed, embarrassed by how quickly he’d given his hand.   But that was one thing she’d harped on a lot last night, saying she would be “keepin’ an extra close eye” on his reaction times for Rule Number Seven.  As if this one was of added importance to her even above the others, for reasons he couldn’t fathom but hadn’t worked up the guts to ask.

But by far the worst part about Rule Seven: jesus fuck, she always held him so close to her.  Aggressively, mind-rattlingly close.  This time, her other hand had already circled behind his neck and was angling his head up at her – with his chin on the very brink of brushing against her left tit!  Did she not realize how wildly unsettling this was, and inappropriate, and--!!

“Got that outta your system yet?” she asked.

“H… Huh?  What?”

The towering teenager rolled her eyes.  “Makes me wonder if I shoulda added ‘No griping or whining’ as an eighth rule.”

Griping or--?  Oh god.  He hadn’t reacted his best to the ‘five minutes’ thing.  Or the barging into his room.  But … but … “Y-You don’t understand!” he countered plaintively.  She couldn’t know how angsty he was; how addled and worked up and Jesus Christ her tits in his face were making his dick aaaaache so bad!  Of COURSE he was on a short fuse!

She seemed half indignant, half amused?  “Explain it, then.”

Ohhh no.  No way.  He shook his head.

“You’re not gonna explain?”  Her brow furrowed.  “Not gonna open up to your Mighty and tell her what’s got you cranky?”

‘Cranky’?  He’d have lashed out at her if he weren’t so all-consumed by the incredibly squeezable-looking tits hovering right there.

He managed another head shake.  Surprisingly, she didn’t blow up at him; just huffed and rolled her eyes.  “Why’m I not surprised?  Pfff… guess we got lots to work on.”

With that, she swung him around and herded him toward the TV, keeping him tight against her side as she grabbed the remote and opened the YouTube app.  A new list of ‘Watch Next’ videos showed up – ones he definitely hadn’t added himself.  “Knew I’d miss our team workout this morning, so I picked out some solo cardio workouts for ya.  Was gonna start you on the Beginner level, buuuut …”  She flipped right past Intermediate and onto ‘Advanced Mega Glute Blaster Cardio Extreme! Whip that Man Into Shape – FAST!’  “This should help with that lil’ attitude you’ve got,” she said ominously.

Whaa--!?  A crushing force descended on his shoulders and crumpled him to the ground on all fours.  “J-Jesus!!” he yelped.  “Y--!”

“Oh, chill out,” Jen snorted, her hand making it impossible for him to rise.  “Just watch the vid and follow along.”

As he raised his intimidated gaze to the TV, four men were shown prostrating themselves just like him, atop exercise mats.  Holy shit, a very well-built woman strode forth between them, dressed in severe black lycra that reminded him almost more of a dominatrix’s attire than a fitness instructor’s.  She stopped in front of the camera and glared, and he was embarrassed to say that even her pre-recorded likeness through the TV screen made his blood turn cold.

“This will not be an easy class,” she said in crisp, acerbic tones.  “Some women may find it challenging.  For you boys, it will be … much more.  But you’ve selected the Advanced class for a reason.”  The instructor leaned closer, a wry smile tugging.  “Or perhaps the woman of your house has selected it for you.  If you’re watching, ma’am: be sure to keep a close eye.  He will try to cheat or slack off before long, I assure you.”  She straightened, rolled back her shoulders, eyed the camera sternly.  “Now: let’s begin.”