Chapter 3
“Well Officers, here we are, the scene a the crime,” Jack said, leading the massive men to the spot in the forest where the strange corpse had been found once people had woken up from hibernation. “We don’ know much about what happened, other than the fact that Tristan Newbeary and Professor Erikson are missin’ but I was hopin’ the two a ya could help us with that.”
Jack was a big man, but even he didn’t really want to get on the bad side of Officers Leather and Rubber. The two of them were infamous on the force, not only for their imposing physiques, but also for their curious methods of punishing any wrongdoer who crossed their paths.
“Well, if the two of them are just missing, then there’s no crime for us. We have better things to do than run errands for you, Jack.”
“Well how do ya know there wasn’t a crime committed?”
Leather cocked an eyebrow, but looked over at his partner rubber, the muscle bound hulk, his huge cock crammed in the leather thong he always wore. “Rubber, why don’t you give the place a sniff–nothing can beat your nose at sniffing out a crime.”
Rubber chuckled a bit, but apparently Leather wasn’t kidding. The rubber clad hulk stepped into the middle of the scene, and took a deep inhale through his nose, a bigger breath than Jack had ever seen someone take before, and he held it for a good minute, his eyes clenched tight, before exhaling it in a large burst. “There’s something on the air alright,” Rubber said with a growl, feeling that familiar, lovely rage start building in his gut, “something happened here…murder? Kidnapping? and something…something foul. Fuck, something, really, really rank.”
Leather looked at his partner curiously, “What was it?”
“I…I don’t know,” Rubber said, taking another breath. “All I can say, is that it’s one of the worst crimes I’ve ever smelled, it’s horrible…it’s making me…really angry…” he said.
“Well then it’s settled,” Jack said, “Ya’ll can hunt the two a them down then.” He looked at Leather and Rubber, but neither one was listening. “Right you two?”
The growl in Rubber’s throat was growing louder, and he suddenly threw a punch into the trunk of a tree next to him, his fist bursting through the wood like it was hollow, and making the entire century old tree shudder, and nearly tumble to the ground. “We have to punish this, this is…this is…” Rubber managed to get out, but the rage was quickly consuming him.
“Well what was it, Rubber? What was the crime?”
“I don’t…I don’t know. It was an abomination here, someone did something unnatural…they did it…there,” he said, pointing towards the science building where Erikson’s labs were housed, “but the perpetrator isn’t there, he’s…he’s gone. He was the one kidnapped, but not the murder, no. We have to punish this, Leather, this should have never happened.”
“Well now hold yer horses fellas,” Jack said, “I just need ya tah find them, not punish them.”
Quicker than Jack had imagined him capable of moving, Leather had crossed the distance between them, “You don’t get to decide matters of justice, Jack–we do. That’s our role. It’s what we do–what we are.”
“Hey man, I know that,” Jack said, backpedalling, but Leather had caught a whiff of something off Jack, and it wasn’t just the redneck’s filthy musk, and he pursued it, sniffing a bit himself.
“You’d better watch yourself Grant, I can smell…intent. What are you planning later?” he said, “At the…at the gym? With…someone in the military? That mean anything to you? Maybe we should stake that place out, make sure you stay out of trouble.”
Jack did his best to play it cool, “I ain’t got no idea what yer talkin’ about, Leather. Ya know I’m a good, law abidin’ citizen.”
“Well then you won’t mind if we pursue the crime here as we see fit, since you wouldn’t want me to charge you with obstruction of justice, would you? Are you planning on getting in our way?”
“No sir, you do what you do best.”
“Good. Rubber, lead the way. Let’s find out what happened here, and make sure whoever did this gets their proper punishment.”
Jack watched the two of them stalk out of the woods, back towards their squad car, which was still comically small for their massive frames, but the two of them made it work somehow, and he wondered who, exactly, the two of them were pursuing. Was it Tristan? Erikson? Who had kidnapped who? And which of them had committed a crime bad enough to make Rubber react like that? Hell, Jack already knew the answer to that question. It was Erikson–who knew what that crazy professor had been up to in those labs of his? Jack had never had much interest in science, preferring to focus on his Masters studies, but from the rumors he’d heard, it had been some pretty strange stuff. Still, the good news was that Leather and Rubber were going to find him. Of course, the bad news was that Erikson was going to get what sounded to be a pretty stern punishment. Still, Jack wasn’t entirely sure that was a bad thing–after all, that just meant there was one less person in his way. Still, Leather had been a little too exact in sniffing out what Jack had planned for later. He wondered, briefly, whether he should wait, but decided against it. The power struggle had already begun. He’d spotted Len getting three fists crammed in his hole the night before at the club. Jack didn’t know who had done it to him, but he sure as well wasn’t going to stand by and let someone else come to him. No, Jack would lead–and once everyone else loosened up a bit, they would understand that, and he knew just who to loosen up next.
***
Grant, wearing the Army tank top and fatigue shorts he always wore to the gym, let himself into the weight room with the key Coach Red had given him, and shivered a bit. Even though everyone was awake, and Spring was coming, there was still a definite chill of winter in the air, especially this early in the morning. Still, he’d rather work out now than have to deal with all of the jocks and amateurs getting in his way during the daytime. Grant was regimented above all else, and if he didn’t adhere to his workout schedule, which had been optimized for maintaining his body fat right at seven percent, he got angry. And for his cadet’s sake, he’d been trying to get angry less often. Most days, he had his cadet work out with him, however after the long sleep, they’d gone into their first work out a few days ago too quick, and he’d pulled his shoulder pretty bad. He was doing a five mile run instead of his usual work out, and Jack would need to time everything perfectly to get everything done without his usual spotter, assistant, and slave on hand to help him out.
However, when he walked into the weight room, he was surprised to find that the lights were on, and that there was someone there already lifting, and much to his surprise, it was Jack. Jack–big, slobby, redneck Jack, was working out. Grant had never seen him lift a weight, much less do any kind of real work at all, so what in the world was he doing here? “Hi Jack–I’m surprised to see you here this early.”
“Oh! Hey Grant,” Jack said, setting the dumbbells he’d been using down. “I wondered if I might run into you today.”
“I’ve never seen you work out before.”
“Ha, well, that’s cause we’ve never worked out at the same time!” he said, “I usually come durin’ the day, but I thought I’d try out the early mornin’, since you’re always talking it up.”
“Who gave you a key?”
“Coach Red, who else? He gave one to you after all, I just suggested that it’d be fair fer me tah have one too.”
Grant just stared Jack in the eye. His story was plausible, but almost too plausible for Grant. Something fishy was going on here, and he’d have to figure out what it was. Everyone in the masters program was on edge since Erikson disappeared, wondering what was going to happen to the college now, if he nor Tristan came back soon. Still, maybe he was trying something new. Grant didn’t really have any reason to be suspicious–still, he was going to do his best to keep his eye on him while they worked out. He trusted Jack as much as Jack trusted him–which was not at all. “Alright,” Grant said, “Just try and stay out of my way. I have a routine, and I like to stick to it, alright?”
“Ha, I know how ya is wit the sticks up yer ass. Ya really should try and loosen up, ya know.”
“Thanks, but I think you’re loose enough for both of us.”
Jack let out a big belly laugh at that, and went back to lifting his weights, leaving Grant to start his own workout. He checked the time, and headed over to the pull up bar, jumped up and started on his first set. While he started out keeping an eye on Jack in the mirror in front of him, he quickly became immersed in his own work out, and keeping up with his schedule. Trying to watch Jack while he worked pushed second onto his times, and he just couldn’t allow that. He was so focused that he almost didn’t notice the strange glow engulf him in the mirror momentarily before disappearing again, so quickly that he wasn’t even sure anything had happened at all. However, the next time he pulled himself up, he nearly lost his grip, when he caught a whiff of the stench coming from his pits. It was some of the worst BO he’d ever smelt, and he thought back, certain he’d put deodorant on. Had he forgotten? In his confusion, he realized he’d lost count of his reps, and dropped back to the ground, trying to regain his composure. Even with his arms down, he could smell himself, and he realized the smell wasn’t just coming from his pits. His entire body was suddenly sweaty, his tank top nearly soaked through, and while his pits were the worst by far, all of his sweat was rank. But that’s how it always was, wasn’t it?
Grant shook his head, trying to clear it, and remember. He hadn’t put deodorant on, but then again, he didn’t use it anyway. Nothing could really cover up the stink of his pits, and he hated the scent of that stuff anyway. He’d much rather just go all natural–people could just deal with it, and he’d always sweated hard during his workouts, so why was that odd? He glanced over his shoulder, and saw Jack facing away from him at the pec deck, focused on his own routine, and he glanced up at the clock, cursing himself. He’d fallen minutes behind now–he couldn’t afford any more distractions. He jumped back up and grabbed the bar, ready to pull himself up when the glow returned. He was certain he’d seen something now…wasn’t he? Still, he couldn’t let it distract him, he had a workout to do.
He tried to pull himself up, but found it surprisingly difficult. Huffing and puffing, he could only squeak out eight reps before dropping back down, breathless. What in the hell was up now? He’d always been able to max out closer to twenty-five, not at eight. Still, considering the weight he was packing, he had a lot more weight to haul up there than other guys, Grant thought, giving his small, but firm gut a pat, so maybe it wasn’t that surprising. Still, the only way to get better was to keep at it. He jumped up again, missing the glow this time, and grunting and groaning, fought with the bar, desperate to get just one rep out, but there was just no way he could get his fat frame up, and he dropped down again, a bit unsteady on his feet.
Hell, what it the world was he thinking, trying to do pull ups? He’d never been able to do a pull up once in his life, he thought, giving his gut a good shake. It’s firmness was gone, and it sagged out the bottom of his sweat soaked army tank quite a few inches. That was embarrassing–he could at least dress in clothes that fit him when he went out, for Christ’s sake, what had he been thinking? His shorts were stretched uncomfortably tight around his thighs as well, and turning around, he could see that the top of his ass crack was actually showing over the waistband. It was disgusting, surely he wouldn’t go out looking like this by choice, what was going on?
His worries were suspended for a moment by a sudden cramp in his gut, followed by a massive belch which nearly rattled the equipment around him, and he clamped his hands over his mouth in shock and mortification. That was definitely not normal, what the fuck was going on? He was staring at himself in the mirror when he caught sight of that glow again, but forgot about it as soon as it disappeared. Ah hell, he thought, who cares what he looks like? He doesn’t have to be ashamed of himself, so why should he care what other people think of him.
“Dang man, that was an impressive belch. I didn’t know you had it in you,” Jack said, catching Grant off guard, and he blushed. Jack had liked that? Well, maybe…maybe he did care a little bit, about what people thought. Well, he cared about what Jack thought, at least. He’d always liked Jack, even…admired him a bit.
“Ha…you, you really think so?” Grant said, a bit giddy, “I bet…I bet I can do another one.”
“Oh? Let’s see.”
Grant started working the gas in his guts around, opened his mouth for another belch, when the gas erupted out the other end, with a nasty, wet fart that stank to high heaven, the shock on Grant’s face even apparent to Jack, who erupted with laughter.
“Holy fuck, Grant, that was awesome!”
“Ha, I wasn’t expecting it, but yeah, I guess it was, wasn’t it?” There was that giddy feeling again, or was it attraction? No, there was no way he could be attracted to Jack. That was just…gross, right? I mean, the guy didn’t shower, and from the state his pig was always in, he was into some pretty filthy stuff. Still…there was something Grant couldn’t shake. He liked getting compliments from jack. He wanted Jack to like him–that made him feel really good. He shook his head a bit, and realized he’d completely messed up his workout schedule, but who cares? Jack didn’t have a schedule, so why would Grant need one? Still, if he couldn’t do a single pull up, he really needed to work on his back, so maybe some rows would be a good choice.
He headed for the rowing machine, setting it for his usual weight, but found it surprisingly difficult to reach the pull bar with this gut in the way. Again, he was struck by how odd it seemed to him, that he was fat. Still, he’d always been fat, right? But then why was he working out? There was something he was missing, something odd going on here, but he couldn’t figure out what. Still, lunging forward, he managed to grab the bar without hurting himself and started rowing, when that glow came back. He wasn’t facing a mirror now, so he caught it just outside the field of his vision, but nothing seemed different when it faded, so he forgot about it, as he leaned into his pits a bit, enjoying the smell wafting off them. He could still smell that fart he’d let off earlier, and the rank stench was so hot, he felt his cock start to harden in his shorts.
Bracken's Corner 