The New Sanning Promise Ch. 04

When Brandon awoke in the Moore's house the second time, he was not alone. On his left, Misty Henning slept restfully with her head tucked gently against his arm. Her makeup was smeared by the events of the night, her short yellow hair a mess of tangles stuck in place by the last remnants of hairspray. On his right, Lana Moore was already awake, on all fours and staring down at his morning wood. Her bottom lip hung loose and drool slid down the corners of her mouth. The young woman's eyes were unblinking, and obsessed.

"Good morning," Brandon said gently, trying not to wake Misty too suddenly.

"Morn'," Lana said lazily.

He did enjoy that look whenever she laid eyes on his hardness, though it was beginning to grow tiresome. Having her nearly shut down like this would grow stale if done too often. "Lana," Brandon told her, trying to sound observational, "your brain works a little faster when you see a hard cock now. Maybe not at full speed, but faster."

Lana's head shook a little bit, like she was shaking herself out of a daze. Her hand lifted from the mattress and wiped the saliva off her chin. She looked at Brandon and smiled, then turned a more pleased expression back to his erection. "I thought so too," she said. "I mean don't get me wrong it's still... beautiful..."

She's mine now, Brandon realized. This whole thing is real. How the hell did I get here?

There were so many more questions he needed to ask, all about where the power came from and what the dangers were or could be. He wanted to know how many more people were like this, why something so outlandish was still hidden from the public, or at least scientific study. Brandon was raised with faith, though this seemed too concrete to be of religious make - divine or unholy.

Most of all, he wanted to know just how much he could really do with this ability. The way Henning described it, everything revolved around this idea of "The Truth" and what words they chose with it. Melanie said she knew someone like this. I should ask her more about that, see if that person had The Truth as well. He had to be careful, though. Henning was clear. "I want to tell you everything, but I have to make sure you're on my side first," he'd told Brandon.

I can get answers, he told himself. I just have to play ball. Figure out this Melanie and Sabrina thing. And I can't use The Truth on Mel, and probably not Sabrina either, unless I... god damn it. I have to do it the normal way.

He recalled some of his more cringe-worthy failures at courting women in college. Not only had he failed to attract them into his bed, he could scarcely get a phone number. And now here he was, tasked by the mayor of his new home not only to fuck two of the women in town, but to be sure they received a fresh dose of his cum, swallowed or otherwise. Brandon had never finished inside any part of a girl until two nights ago, when Lana mounted him and begged for it.

"Brandon..." Misty groaned, awakening slowly. A weak little grin spread across her tired face, though her eyes remained almost entirely closed. "Or should I start calling you Doctor?"

"If you'd like," Brandon said. "I will start work soon."

"I'd love for you to examine me," she joked sleepily. Standing up slowly for a morning stretch, she gave Brandon a full view of her bare body. A few things about Misty gave away that she was in her mid-30's, though none of those things were her body. Her skin was smooth and unmarred, with scarcely a blemish or scar. From behind he might even have guessed she was younger than he. She bent over at the waist, touching her toes and revealing a lingering wetness between her legs. Brandon wasn't sure when they'd fallen asleep, but certainly hours had passed since he'd been inside of her.

"Misty, you wanted to tell me about your masturbating habits," he said, playing at figuring his powers out.

"Oh that's right!" she said, remembering what she'd never promised to tell. "Well, to be honest I don't need to very much. Arthur loves to fuck me every day that he can, period excluded of course. But sometimes he goes out of town without me and I'll play with myself three or four times a day," Misty admitted.

"You were going to show me how you do it," he falsely reminded her.

"Gosh, I am so forgetful!" Misty turned to face him, shaking her head and laughing at her own scatterbrain. She took a moment to get comfortable, lying down next to him again. All the while, Lana stayed on all fours, chin resting on her hands while she gazed lovingly at Brandon's hard-on.

"So I start nice and easy on my back," Misty said, lifting a leg to rest on top of Brandon's. She wasted no time in letting her fingers get to playing, and her breath rose quickly. "I get especially hot... being watched."

"I can tell," he joked, seeing how her hips wiggled with her pleasure.

"When I get closer..." Misty continued, flipping herself over prone. She pressed her cheek into the pillow and pointed her ass up into the air, a hand reaching underneath her body and between her legs. "I get into doggy and really go to town."

Brandon's hand wandered over to Lana's hair, scratching at her head gently while Misty played. He would never even have dreamed of a scenario like this, and yet here it was playing out in front of him. And if Henning was to be believed, he could have done this any time, so long as he'd given someone his "seed." To think I could have just told a girl to be in love with me after I'd slept with her...

But that sounded dissatisfying. Brandon did not like the idea of tricking someone into loving him. The morality of the entire situation still tugged away somewhere in his head, but beyond that was a desire to be truly wanted. Lana was nice, and very pretty. But she'd been conditioned into her current state. Misty was already happily married to the mayor. An unusual marriage indeed, but a happy one nonetheless.

He's asking me to have two wives, Brandon thought. And I haven't even met one of them. I guess he didn't really consider the thought that I want to love the woman I keep close... or women.

Misty dug two fingers into herself, half screaming and half groaning into the pillow. Lana giggled a little, but never took her loving gaze away from Brandon's cock. When Misty relaxed from her orgasm, Brandon stood at last and found his clothes on the floor. "I'd love to stay," he said to the two naked women fawning over his figure. "But I have some town business to attend to."

**********

NEW SANNING - THE COCK WORSHIP CAPITOL

Sabrina finished the outline of each letter and took a step back, wondering whether it was worth busting out the gold paint. The statue in reference was brass, but she supposed gold would be good enough. The brick wall of the grocery store had been bare for long enough, she decided. Now it was time to put some color on it.

"Maybe blue?" said a voice behind her. Sabrina seized and turned slowly, ready for Officer Graham to begin escorting her toward an hour of paperwork. But instead she found a tall young man standing there, eyeing her graffiti with something that looked like interest.

It was the new guy. Something Harper. He had that horrible plain look that a lot of stiff college boys had. Short brown hair, tussled lightly for style. Long beige pants, befitting for a man of his career. The only piece of him that didn't look straight out of a stock photo was the eye catching rod in his pants, pressed against one of his legs and straining against the fabric. He had a hand in his pocket next to it, probably trying to hide it somehow. But there was no hiding something like that. Shit, she thought. Why must that belong to such a dull man?

"Say again?" she said after a good long look at his pants.

"You can fill in the letters with blue first," he said. "And then use the gold."

Sabrina scoffed and began to pack up her cans. "No use now, is there?"

"What do you mean?" the guy said, and without hesitation he bent down to pick up her can of blue spray paint and began to fill in the letters. "It'll go pretty nicely, I think. It'll help the gold pop a little more. Better than the bricks on their own."

Sabrina's jaw almost dropped watching him graffiti the grocery store. This man, who'd just begun his third day here. Whom she'd heard would be the town's new optometrist. What the fuck does he think he's doing?

"Sure," she said suspiciously. "You do this kind of thing often?"

"Not really," he said. "But blue and gold were my high school's colors."

"Uh-huh." When Sabrina leaned against the wall a few feet away, she could still see the erection trying to break free. There was something she loved about this image. A guy dressed for church doing the work of the deviant. She'd tagged a few walls back home when she was with Zack, but once his tie went on that was all over. This guy, whoever he was, didn't care what he wore or who he was seen as, apparently. He just wanted to tag this wall.

No way, Sabrina thought. Henning's using him. He's already trapped.

"So," Sabrina said, testing the waters. "How you liking it here?"

"Pretty fuckin' weird," he said, spraying the W. "Kinda feels like some Twilight Zone shit, to be honest."

Sabrina played dumb. "What do you mean?"

"Well, feel free to turn me in if I'm the only human left in this town," he started. "But I think that whole statue business was a little less than ordinary. Didn't you? I mean, I heard rumors that you glued the cock on - but I mean everyone just bought what that guy said. Am I crazy?"

She could have cried just then. She could have fallen to her knees and begged him never to leave her alone in this town. But something still smelled off. Some little echo of Henning lingered in her head. "No," she admitted. "You're not crazy. He does stuff like that all the time and I'm the only one who notices."

The guy gave her a smirk and finished filling in the blue. "Well now there's two of us," he said. "And let our protest be known here forever."

Sabrina stood next to him, a bit closer than she'd meant to, and looked at the drying paint. "Not bad for a newbie, Doc."

"Any chance you'll call me Brandon?"

Sabrina shrugged. "We'll see if I like you that much."

The abrupt blare of Officer Graham's siren killed the high that Sabrina felt. His modified patrol car eased into the alley at the back of the grocery store and came to a stop just in front of the tag on the wall. Sabrina closed her eyes and sighed, waiting impatiently for the lecture and the fine, and the rehearsed polite request to come down to the station.

"Okay, Sabrina. How'd you talk him into that?" Graham said, stepping out of the car and pointing to the can in Doc's hand.

"Just get it over with," she groaned. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you the sky was blue."

"I admit if you're saying it I'd at least have to look up first."

Sabrina hated Dennis Graham more than most people in this town. She hated how placid he was all the time, never laughing or scowling or even raising his voice. She hated his tan leathery skin and the way he always looked sweaty even on a cold day. The tinny voice, the bony wrists, the bored look on his face whenever he buried his dick into her mother -

"Sorry Officer," Doc said. "This one's all on me."

"Say again?"

"Pardon me," her accomplice said, stepping towards Graham with his free hand and reaching out for a shake. "I don't know if we've been formally introduced yet. I didn't catch you at the park and I don't think you were at the block party."

"I keep busy," Graham lied. "I'm almost all there is around here. In my line of work, I mean."

"Well, I'm sure you know I'm Brandon Harper," the Doc said. "And I did the handiwork here."

He'll never buy that, Sabrina thought. She'd already been accused of things she had nothing to do with, but of this she was clearly guilty. She still had paint on her fingertips.

Graham let go of the Doc's hand and pressed his lips together, the closest thing he could get to a frown. "That's disappointing to hear."

Then with a sigh and a scratch on his thinning hair, Officer Graham waved the Doc over to the car, opening the backdoor of the car to see him inside. Graham didn't formally arrest him or even cuff him. The whole thing was annoyingly polite.

Harper didn't quite smile as they drove off, but he did have an amused look in his eyes. That didn't sit well with her. Sabrina wasn't expecting to like someone in New Sanning.

**********

Melanie tried to keep her breathing even as she waited. Janelle was sitting behind her desk, postured perfectly and typing rapidly. She had a perfectly even expression on her face, like she was content to be doing just what she was doing without taking too much pleasure in it. That's what a good mood looks like, Melanie reminded herself. It had been a long time since she'd felt something besides anxiety.

A strange sound came from Henning's office that Mel couldn't quite understand. But Janelle just looked at her calmly and said, "He should be about ready for you. Go on in, I don't think he'll mind."

When Mel opened the door she saw a woman standing beside the desk, quickly adjusting her skirt and trying to look natural. She began to wobble out of the room on shaky knees, giving Mel a polite smile. It was Scarlett Tanner, one of the newer townspeople. She had a thin layer of sweat on her forehead, and her face was flushed pink all over. And to confirm the obvious, Mel heard the sound of a zipper closing from behind Henning's desk.

"Thanks for stopping by, Mrs. Tanner," he said. "We'll take that into consideration at our next budget meeting."

"Yes, um... thank you Mr. Mayor."

Henning's beaming smile calmed into a polite one when the door closed again. He didn't bother to stand. "Hi Melanie," he said. "Let's see it."

Mel huffed a sigh and did not show him the painting in her hands. "I tried to tell you over the phone."

"I know," he answered, already becoming impatient with her. "But I wanted to see what had you so upset."

"I just needed to paint what I saw," she said. "And it isn't what you asked for."

Henning said nothing to that, and just waited. Finally, she placed the canvas on his desk, allowing him to untie the twine holding the brown paper over it. "Brandon Harper," he said as he uncovered it. "You did very well with his face."

"Thank you."

Henning stood, revealing an intense erection straining against his pants. Melanie looked anywhere else, hoping that he wasn't about to try yet again after all his failures to seduce her. Instead he just picked up the painting and sat at the edge of his desk, making the whole meeting much less official. He had a weary look on his face. "I'm glad he left a good impression on you. But I don't think he'll be staying in New Sanning for very long."

"No?"

"He seems very unhappy. Confused. To be perfectly frank, much like when you arrived. But I get the feeling he was never really attached to the idea of being here. No, I don't think Brandon wants to fit here."

"Oh." That sounded reasonable enough. Melanie felt compelled to stay despite her discomfort, and barring Henning's failed attempts to woo her, nothing had really happened to warrant leaving. But Brandon didn't own the house he lived in, he didn't come alone. And he surely didn't like what he'd seen.

"It's a shame. I want to help him, but... he just needs a reason to stay, and I'm afraid I can't give him that."

"No, I guess not," she said sadly.

"Melanie," he said. "Do you see where I'm going with this?"

"Hm?" Was he getting at something? It seemed more informative than suggestive to her. But maybe she was just used to ignoring Henning's tone as a defense mechanism. "Sorry. Could you spell it out?"

"He can pack up and leave very easily, but I would prefer it if he didn't. Brandon would make a nice asset to the community, he just needs something to ground him in our world. A friend, you see?"

"Oh. Yes, that makes sense. Is he really that important to you?"

"Allow me to be a bit morbid, Melanie. If I don't get young people moving into town, then it's going to be empty before long. A lot of middle-aged citizens, soon to be elderly. They'll die out -"

"No, I got it this time," Melanie interrupted. "You're right. The more people our age, the easier it will be for you. It's just that it sounds like you're asking me to... well..."

"I'm not trying to play matchmaker," Henning answered. "I know you and I got off on the wrong foot, and I'm sure I still make you uncomfortable. So I'm trying to maintain a respectful relationship with you while also looking after my community. All I'm asking is for you to try and be his friend. One relatable face to make it easier for him to stick around."

Well, I'm sure he doesn't mind living next to Lana. But... "All right. That's simple enough. He came to visit and it seems like we're getting along well so far."

Henning inspected the portrait of Brandon again. "Yes, I'd say so. To be clear, Melanie, it's okay if you don't turn in a painting. I'd rather have no work than dishonest work."

"I have the advance," she said, reaching into her bag to produce the several thousand dollars he'd paid her. "I know it wasn't exactly my fault about the statue, but the next time I promise I'll stick to the prompt even if Sabrina -"

"Melanie," Henning said sternly. "I said I would rather have no work than dishonest work. Your options were to paint what you saw or paint nothing. If you had painted the statue with Sabrina's little addition, it would not be true, would it?"

"No, it wouldn't."

Henning carefully wrapped the painting in its protective brown paper again, and expertly tied the twine around it, even without Melanie's instruction. "You chose to paint what you saw," he said. "So it's honest work. It won't do for the town, but I hope you hold onto it. Has Brandon seen it?"

"I think... it would be coming on too strong," she said, tacitly admitting some of her budding attraction to Brandon.

"I see. Well, maybe someday. It could help him stay put is all I'm saying. I don't know where else in the world he would get to be part of a Jarowski original."

**********

"You're really canceling?"

"Yupp! Can't stand this shit anymore. Huge mistake. I'd rather be stuck in the middle of nowhere with my dorky brother than spend another night here."

Brandon tossed the phone into his other hand to pick up his comb. He saw himself chuckle in the bathroom mirror as he touched up his hair. "I assume Mom and Dad have heard already?"

"It's all arranged. So you know, get ready to hang out with me a lot because I'm headed your way, and I'll be all alone in a strange place."

"Kind of like you are now," he said sarcastically.

"Sure, but at least Haley won't be crying all the time. I swear, Brandon, sometimes I think I hate women."

Tiffany pulled a laugh out of him with almost everything she said, but that one really took the breath from his lungs. She'd already made something of a reputation for herself, so much so that even her much older brother heard about it through the grapevine before finally hearing some of it firsthand. "Right," Brandon said. "I seem to recall that you once said, and I quote, 'Baby I'm going to eat your pussy so good you'll still feel it in the afterlife.'"

She giggled, a little proud of herself. "It's a miracle that girl didn't die of pleasure after what I did to her. You gonna start eavesdropping on me again when I get all settled, pervert?"

"You gonna have loud phone sex while I'm home again when you're all settled, horndog?"