Soup Style Bk. 06 - Deputized Posse

Chapter 1: Snatched At Home?

As Ashley's grandfather returned from dawn fishing at the municipal pier, he set the few fish on a cutting board and gutted them, collecting what would not be parts of the meals to go as scrap into the garden composting.

"Oh, eww," said a girlish voice that he recognized and responded to with an eager grin. Alexandra was at the other side of (and barely showing herself, quite coyly, at) the interior doorway. She appeared to be naked. Happily (both to find her here and also to find her undressed) but also with curiosity, he attentively waited as she pretended to be shy while she slowly and sensuously approached him. She took him by the hand to the shower and cleaned him more so than he had cleaned the fish. They did not talk. This was not the first time for the two of them to silently and sensually shower together.

He had a high level of curiosity about what was going on, but, also, a high level of comfort and trust in Alexandra. She was careful to gently and thoroughly lather and rinse him in every crevice of every surface from the bottom of each of the soles of his feet to the top of his head. Gently, still in contact and without having transfer of roles from her initially leading him, Alexandra called out the word "towel" and from outside the shower and quite surreptitiously a hand reached up to place a towel for her to grab, but without revealing who had delivered in response to the call. Towel drying him gently, before placing the towel across the top of the shower door, Alexandra then called out the word "lotion." Again, an obvious though mysterious hand reached from the side, then up to the top of the shower door, which for ventilation had a gap large enough at the top for the container of lotion to be transferred from deliverer to recipient. He smiled, still not sure who was making these deliveries, and, he noted that the extra transom glass, what would make the opening far higher (and narrower) for when someone wanted to retain steam inside the shower chamber had already before they entered the shower been dropped down, opened, which was not how he had last used and then left it. The grin and the mystery were growing, as was his erection.

After Alexandra applied somehow actively warming lotion to way too many of the surfaces on his body exterior (except penis, ball sack, ass crack, eyeballs, ear canals, lips and nostrils which, each of which, she kissed lovingly) she turned the water on long enough only to wash any residue of the lotion from her own hands before he was hand led by her outside of the shower. To his quite sudden surprise -- but, he had no demonstrable physical reaction because he did not feel threatened -- he went into full hooded dependency on being led by Alexandra (if it was still her?) when the spa sized bath towel was reemployed as his head covering.

He had as a falconer tied hoods over the eyes of some of his past hunting partners. His hunting partners were birds of prey. He had outlived all of them, including the eagle for whom he still grieved daily; they had hunted together, across the pastures as well as in the mountains that touched heaven near the Himalayas.

He was loosely covered, as if his own head were an engine within a cowling. He had some sense from the gap between the lower edge of the towel and where his body had served as the other edge of his blinders, that the the room was being darkened. Daylight as well as any trace of its indirect natural sunlight vanished. How was she doing that?

Without normal vision, his other senses tried to discern more from what was going on.

Smell? The lotion had a kind of rosemary odor to it that was most evident, yet, it also had an undertone. He was wondering if this was commercial or something compounded for him to experience something Aida (we, as readers, have not yet learned in the books available to us that she is employed by a compounding pharmacy with a sister business of herbals as well as supplies of rare ingredients prescribed by alternative care providers) had dreamed up? He could not place what he was smelling but thought it probably an earthy yet somehow irritating one, perhaps capsaicin?

Hearing? He also noticed as if quite far away that there was a smell and sounds as if someone had started preparing a meal. Someone already working with the freshly caught fish? He was still tentative in his movements, still easily trusting to be led by hand, though he honestly had no idea if it was still Alexandra who was leading him. He noticed that there almost seemed on the barely audible signal over background noise some kind of faint scuffling, extremely soft. The pathway for his being led was circuitous, as if either trying to prevent him from recognizing his exact location within his own home, or, he thought silently, more likely, navigating around either mysteries from newly staged objects or perhaps, a wild stretch, other people participating in whatever was going on.

Suddenly, he experienced an increasing disorientation. Amidst unknown odors maybe he sensed a familiar smell that reminded him of the lambs wool from the yurt that Perizat used at some of her catering gigs?

Lightning striking twice? Suddenly, he experienced a higher sense of familiarity as he was placed on something like towels or blankets, (maybe sheepskins?) that were between him and his traditional spot to be in deep thought. He had an old fashioned richly featured barber chair. It was set in a metal frame in a concrete foundation. The occupant could be tilted to almost any direction, safely, and it was easily locked or repositioned almost like the modern day clinical balance disorder testing devices.

He went along without resisting as he felt his arms and legs being actually restrained. This was a first for he and Alexandra. They had not previously played at bondage in any fashion. His curiosity and his libido were both likely as aroused as each was challenged by this turning in their relationship. Except for the restraints and the large towel that was serving as a hooded head cover, he was still naked. And, he was still covered just about everywhere in a lotion that was unfamiliar to him, but not pleasant anymore due to making him feel overheated. He had gone a longer than usual time without any liquids. He was thirsty. Should he ask for water? He was still willing to go along with whatever was in mind for him, but he was wondering. What. Was. He. Wondering? He was lost in trying to have any normal thoughts. Was he drugged? Was there some topical administration of a drug within that lotion? Was he delusional? Was he paranoid? Was he hallucinating? He wasn't feeling okay.

He was then being repositioned. His barber chair was being reset so that he was changed to a pose as if to be having his hair washed. Maybe he was to be waterboarded? He could sense that there might be others present. He was frankly surprised not to hear giggling nor to feel sensual touches. This position had to be for some novel sex act, right? He had been snatched in his home yet he increasingly felt as if the surprise might be sinister rather than amusing.

The towel serving as a head covering was removed. All was black. As he strained to see he was stunned without warning, a blinding light was in his face. This was an interrogation!

Chapter 2: Questioning Reality

A voice off to the side was loud, strident, demanding answers in rapid succession. He was disoriented, even nonfunctional. The voice was sort of mechanical. He couldn't quite pin down what was happening, but, it was not the voice of someone alternating between soothing and violent as when he had been interrogated back in the war. This was different, probably mechanical though he realized he was certainly delusional as well. Triggered by the interrogation techniques and probably drugged, right? He was having flashbacks to the war that might never have left him. He was experiencing multiple concurrent realities. The wound in the upper rib, below his left chest, ached as if fresh instead of decades old. His breathing became ragged. Mercy would come when he passed out. Would they awaken him?

When he awoke he was in his own bed. Cuddling him was a unique combination of lovers. He was sandwiched among three lovely women. The three were Alexandra, Aida, Elsebet. That was a new combination for him. He liked having the sense of someone near, but, he still felt as if he was living the life of a character in a Kurt Vonnegut story instead of ours or his own. He was concerned that he seemed to have a catheter in his arm. He did. He was on an intravenous drip! Aida was gathering a wet and warm washcloth in her hands and wiping his face. Alexandra was holding back tears as she tried to imagine what he was experiencing. They were trying to be brave but the fear was thicker than a deep marine layer in the atmosphere.

Was this another delusional episode? He tried to sigh but breathing deeply was suddenly quite painful. He was already laying down but he sagged in place. He wiggled his toes and fingers. All still there. All. Still. There.

New to his room, even more people entered. He sort of recognized who had entered but was so tired and so far along in having convinced himself that he was delusional, that he didn't even try to focus on identifying them as they entered. He might have blacked out again. He heard sounds and realized that he had at least closed his eyes if not returned to comatose. From hearing sounds to interpreting them took him a while. Aida was giving him a sponge bath. He sort of realized it was not his first from her but nothing was making enough sense for him to distinguish between reality or fantasy.

Aida covered him. Both Alexandra and, to his great surprise, Elsebet, were laying on either side of him and adjusting the covers. As they did so, he realized that he and both of them were naked. This was strange. Although Aida and Alexandra had easily fallen into a pattern of sharing him, the past of booty calls from Elsebet had always been exclusively hers. She might have joked enough about his also getting booty calls from her housemate, Sara, the policewoman, but, they had never even for a teased joke been together when intimate with him.

Aida then went to the door and returned with more people. His room had never had such high occupancy. First to follow Aida in to the room was Elsebet's roommate, Sara. Sara was pulling along, holding hands with, Perizat. Perizat. The woman with the Central Asian catering business who rented the house between his own and the one that was rented to Elsebet and Sara. A neighborhood get together in his bedroom? Someone unknown but somehow familiar was the last to enter and watched him but nobody else. He tried to absorb what was going on. Who? How? Why? But, could make no sense of what he was seeing.

Chapter 3: Rescuer or Vigilante?

Enduring silence effortlessly and endlessly was the last person to enter and then stand her ground, having eyes only for meeting the eyes of Ashley's grandfather. Samantha McLeod was not in a hurry to start. Not to start talking. Not to start explaining. Never to apologize for herself.

Sara, already towing Perizat (who was completely compliant), looked from Samantha to Ashley's grandfather as if trying to catch one of them in the act of starting. She was not comfortable with the lengthening time in silence. She did not have the stamina that Samantha used on her suspects. Sara did not know about the characteristic silence in the shower that was a trade dress for lovemaking among Alexandra, Ashley's grandfather, sometimes also joined with Aida.

Aida was standing to the side until she joined with Sara, taking the hand not already holding hands with Perizat. Sara, sandwiched between Aida and Perizat decided to end the silence. She wasn't yet sure what to say. She wasn't sure to whom to say anything. But, ending the silence was the call she was making.

"Ma'am," she said, addressing her superior officer. Samantha nodded. After yet another frustratingly long silence, Sara decided to speak again. Her voice started softly and went even softer, almost fading out as she finished saying "Ma'am, will you lead a debrief?"

Holding eye contact with Ashley's grandfather, Samantha introduced herself. She explained that she had gone off the reservation in response to the opportunity that Sara had presented when reporting on this case where the detectives had noted that they believed Sara herself to be a suspect. Sara had proposed to form a posse, to deputize the suspects and the victims, to find answers that ordinary policing wasn't going to find. There was already open warfare being waged by the investigators and lead prosecutors. The victims were greatly frustrated because the detectives were after a vigilante as the criminal, giving no comfort whatsover to the actual victims. The victims were clueless as to anything about their rescuer or rescuers. Surprising everyone though, as a sort of verbal footnote that was a total surprise, Samantha added "I have known of you all of my remembered life. My grandfather, when he was very upset or especially excited would talk about you. I remember when I was quite young telling him that you weren't there with us when my grandfather would lapse into imaginary conversations with you. Sir."

Sara again was the one to break the silence by asking as a question: "Your grandfather, ma'am?"

Ashley's grandfather, still holding eye contact with Samantha, nodded and then turned to face Sara to explain. "I remember well. Her grandfather was a great scientist who was responsible for the design of experiments in our wartime effort."

Chills. This was another in a fantastic turn of incredible events. It was Alexandra who broke the silence this time. In her patented way, the social influencer had everyone babbling instantly. Alexandra was able to even draw another admission out of Samantha, who softly whispered: "I never believed you existed. You couldn't have existed. You couldn't have been real. Yet, you were targeted as a suspect."

The question that Alexandra ultimately formulated with Aida's help was to ask: "Was this by design or at random?"

End of Book 6 and an invite for anyone to offer comments to the author by posting here.