When Ladders Traumatize

Part 3

The gal patted him on his back and jokingly remarked how hot he was that her fingers were sizzling. The giggling didn’t make sense. They were acting like gals who had just seen the hottest man on the planet.

Focus Bret. Focus.

As soon as his hands touched the ladder, time froze, stood still, and panic gripped him within inches of his life. Eyes wide open, air no longer moving in or out of his lungs, Bret struggled to break the electric pull that was nearly breaking his arms. It was worse than a sci-fi vortex.

He couldn’t let go. His legs were shaking in protest. The rumblings of his tummy so loud that others were remarking on the strange burbling of an eruption coming. People were giving him plenty of room. Yet, he couldn’t let go.

The tension in his neck was forcing his head upward to the point of almost snapping it back off it’s pivot point. There was nothing but total blackness at the opening in the ceiling. The super gleaming white ladder just disappeared into nothing. There were lots of giggling and laughing of women’s voices coming from the hole, but no sight of anything.

The gal who had climbed before him had vanished in the hole. Only a single sandal had fallen and smacked his forehead. He could not pull himself off or away from the ladder. The pain in his gut was beyond excruciating at this point. He only wanted to curl up in a fetal position and die. It was the worse pain of his entire existence.

Without input from his brain, his other arm flopped up to the next run and started to pull his near limb body up. Step by step, rung by rung, Bret found himself being hijacked towards that black hole in the ceiling. Every single bit of will was focused exclusively on keeping all of his internal content safely inside him as the contractions were violently shaking his body like a rag.

Nearing the top, he vaguely heard a loud round of clapping and cheering. Too in pain to look, and not enough strength to overcome the strange pull, Bret started to say all manners of prayers and bible texts. He still couldn’t see what was on the other side of the black hole. There were male voices cheering below, albeit voices in various degrees of discomfort.

With a strange pop in his ears, as if on an airplane in rapid decent, heat rushed through his lower body. Tears were now flowing like a river. Between rushed prayers, Bret pleaded that his maker didn’t allow his insides to have flowed out of him onto the people below. The humiliation would be too much.

His voice was reduced to weak groans and whimpers as he tried to scream out for help. The cheers and clapping seemed to rise with each effort he made to scream for help. The ladder shook pretty hard. His testicles sucked themselves totally up to his Adam’s apple. Someone was on the ladder and climbing fast.

His mind was violently and rudely snatched from it’s state of panic to a state of shock. In complete disbelief, a very strong hand totally violated his tush and squeezed wickedly hard and lifted him clear off the ladder and propelled him through the entrance of the black hole. If he had not known better, that grip felt like one taking full advantage of his rear for personal pleasure and gratification.

Kneeling on an inclined board with elevated horizontal bars for traction, Bret tried his best to adapt his eyes to the very dimmed conditions of this new place. Was it the loft? Where was all that laughter and giggling coming from? How did that hand push him so hard into the hole? Why was his body shaking so much? Why wouldn’t the pressure in his gut not ease up, he was off the ladder, or was he?