The girl who had just rescued him offered her hand to help him up. What the heck. It’s not like she’d never find out that he lost all control of his bodily functions anyway. He took her hand and was immediately awash in testosterone and bliss that had his member instantly at full attention. The pain was not gone, but the pleasure was undeniable.
The lack of wetness around his legs failed to register and puzzle Bret who was trying to decide if he was experience hallucinations of infatuations.
Once back on his feet, it was hard to stand upright. The conflict of information to his brain was making him very dizzy. The lack of surety aggravated his confidence and left him at the mercy of the lady who had violated his rear.
She pointed to the one singular step that split the distance between the landing and the platform and nudged him forward. The feeling of love, sensuality, softness, tenderness, and caress that flowed from her nudge reminded him strongly of the time he had accidentally bumped into Zoe in the hallway the prior year. Love had never felt so good physically ever.
As she led him into the loft, he saw the teen looking at him somewhat relieved. As Bret walked across the floor, the other girls were giving very knowing looks, smiles, nods, and thumbs up of approval. Why did it feel like he was the main course that was just about to be eaten?!?
There was nothing romantic about feeling like a dying man in agony. He was not looking his best for sure. He could barely keep himself upright. The cramping was not going away. The other gals were looking at him like the biggest prized hunk of meat they had ever seen. Some were pointing to his erect member and licking their lips ready to devour him if his supportive helper didn’t have magical ways of keeping them away. What was she going to do to him though?
He could now see it.
The exit, that is.
His eyes had finally adjusted to to the dim loft. The exit was another hole in the ground. Difference, he could see the main room below. The usual activities. Gals having fun and guys doubling over in pain as they were attempting to get to the ladder leading to where he had just been.
Where was the ladder to come down? How was he to get down? The white ladder was on the other side of the room. Wait, how was this loft positioned? Time and space seemed to not be linked together in this weird place.
The girl leaned in and ask if he was OK as his head spun from the loveliest of lavender scent emanating from her presence. He nodded. There was still no strength to speak, let alone focus on walking without help.
As they neared the exit, he heard the voice of a boy protesting and complaining off to his side. There was terror and agony in the voice. He felt strongly compelled to help. Scanning the room, he saw the teen shaking his head while resuming the tapping of his S.O.S warning. The gal next to him said something he missed and tugged at his arm towards the exit.
Her hands felt so soft. Her hair had brushed his arm and sent shivers of anticipation racing through his arteries. Had his memories of being so violated mixed with the churning of his gut not been so top of mind, he’d consider this a welcomed overture.
Shallows of the Deep 