Before:

​     He must have turned over in his sleep. That's all Trevor could figure. He'd jammed his right leg somehow, though, that was for sure, because sharp and intense pain ripped through him, tearing him from sleep. The dimmed glowbulbs told him that the Club District slept, probably including the ladies he lived with. 

     Where's the bucket? he asked himself. Where's my pain bucket?

     He left a half full bucket next to the cot for emergencies like the one that had just jolted him out of a sound sleep.

     He reached for it. 

     He found it empty.

     Damn! That's right. He'd emptied it when he realized the water it contained had lost its potency and was waiting for one of the women to take the bucket and fill it with special water. He'd fallen asleep waiting, and now...

​     It would just be too rude to insist they wake up merely to fill his bucket.

     He'd have to wait until they woke up.

     But could he? He very seriously asked himself that question as the pain refused to stop intensifying, intensifying until he thought, I can't stand this for even one more second.

     That was another thing. Agony made time slow to a drip. Seconds became minutes, minutes an eternity. 

     "Aagggh!"

​     Had he yelled that out loud? He was so far gone, he really had no idea. He felt nothing within himself save for a frantic animal in fucking ​pain.

     He sensed movement.

     At the door leading to the rest of their home.

     A shadow entered.

     "I hurt so bad right now," he said to who he didn't yet know.

     The shadow disappeared with the bucket and returned with it half full.

     "Myveth?" Trevor asked.

​     Whoever it was, she handed the bucket to him so that he could soak his wound. 

     "Thank you. Thank you."

     It was only after the pain subsided a bit that Trevor saw that, for sure, without a doubt, it was Myveth who'd arrived to save him.

     The glow from the candle gave her body, wrapped in a nightgown and robe, a halo.

     Trevor nodded in a manner he hoped said, you can go back to bed now. I'm grateful for what you've done.

     Myveth didn't leave the stool she sat on. 

     She wiped a tear from her eye.

​     "I wish I knew why you're so sad all the time," Trevor said, "because I'm thinking, if I knew that, maybe I could do something about it."

     Myveth reached for the brokar pipe.

​     Trevor made a motion with his hand he hoped said, we don't have to do that right now. He felt afraid they might wake the others.

     Myveth leaned forward until her nose just about touched his.

     "Yes," she whispered.

     Her way of saying, you may not want to smoke brokar, but I do.

     Oh.

     Trevor nodded. "Yes. Yes." Sure. If she wanted to smoke brokar in the middle of the night, he was more than willing to go along.

     Candlelight turned Myveth's face into a series of beautiful, shifting, shadow and light patterns as she filled the pipe with brokar, then used the candle to light it. 

     She filled her lungs with the brokar, then exhaled it directly into Trevor's face so that he, too, could breathe it in.

     As he did, an aspect of Trevor's inner being sprouted wings and took flight, metaphorically speaking.

     Okay, there you go, Trevor thought. That's the ticket. Now, sure, he still felt plenty of pain, he never stopped swabbing himself, but, now, along with the pain he felt the pleasurable euphoria the brokar provided.

     He looked at Myveth in hopes she felt it as well.

     But, damn.

     She's getting ready to cry again, he thought.

     And, sure enough.

     A tear fell from Myveth's eye.

     Trevor touched it.

​     "Tear," he said.

     She touched a globule of sweat that hung from the end of Trevor's nose.

     "Tear," she said.

​     "No, that's something else." Trevor touched a droplet of sweat he knew dripped from his chin.

     "Sweat," he said.

     Myveth nodded as she inhaled, then exhaled, more brokar to envelope them both.

     And then she did something unexpected.

     She touched where Trevor's robe hid his penis.

     They froze.

     Trevor shot her a look, like, what? What do you want the next five minutes to look like?

     Before Myveth could reply, the glowbulbs brightened.

     They brightened because someone had caused them to brighten.

     Both Myveth and Trevor looked up, startled.

     Myveth's mother, Lyveth, stood in the doorway that led to the hall beyond.

     The stern look on her face made Trevor feel guilty, although he had no idea what he was supposed to feel guilty about. 

     Myveth, on the other hand, rose quickly and departed from the room, head down.

     Trevor looked at Lyveth.

     The expression on his face asked, what? What did I do wrong?

​     Lyveth's responding expression puzzled Trevor. She didn't look angry so much as sad and more than a little puzzled herself.

     She mumbled something, then departed...

     leaving Trevor alone.

     High, though, and no longer in pain and ready to drift back to sleep.

     What exactly have I gotten myself into? were among Trevor's last conscious thoughts. Who are these women?

CONTINUE