The Trials and Tribulations of Tim
Chapter 8
Wilson began talking and for one of those rare times in his life Tim was
quiet and just listened to this man of mystery and menace. Fortunately for Tim,
Wilson was a very wise man and so as he spoke he made notes on a pad that he'd
dredged up from deep within the middens of his parlor. The two Japanese ladies
recognized that their presence was no longer needed and slipped away to their
own private hiding place located somewhere within the bowels of Wilson's
cluttered castle and repaired each other's wounds before drifting off to sleep.
"I was most impressed by your organizational skills in planning and
executing that delightful weekend that featured your lovely wife, Jill, being
reeducated by her family and friends at home as well as her colleagues at the
university. I was honored to be given the opportunity to make some small
contribution towards reestablishing her balance as wife, mother and seeker of
her place in the spheres as some of the philosophers have described our temporal
relationships." This rather wordy and convoluted preamble caused Tim's muscles
to tighten and his head to begin throbbing as he struggled to try to understand
just what the hell his neighbor was talking about.
"All those involved seemed to enjoy helping out tremendously. I am sure
that if a properly constructed invitation could be created, you would have the
type of assistance needed to shall we say "balance the books?" In addition we
could create a situation where many of those invited would have no idea that
their role was not as they assumed it to be. Thus in one fell swoop you could
draw all those necessary, both the accused and those charged with punishing them
for their transgressions, into a single point in space and time."
Tim had no idea what Wilson was talking about. He had no idea about how
to construct this invitation that would mean all things to all people. Even if
he could get all the players to show up at the same stadium, to put things into
the kind of context that he understood, how in the world could he keep them
there? Then Wilson started to unfold his plan and Tim's respect for this almost
alien being began to be restored.
"We begin to form a plan using the Socratic approach. We ask the obvious
question and the answer we obtain then provides the basis for the next question.
We continue this process until finally we come full circle and the total answer
is then revealed. Let us begin." The puzzled look on the toolman's face did not
exactly inspire confidence in Wilson, but he pressed on.
"Who are we honoring at this celebration that we are inviting people to
attend? Are we not asking those we invite to witness the full recovery of your
dear wife, Jill, not to mention the debut of your transformed offspring, Brad?"
Tim's eyes grew wide as he listened. At first blush it made no sense; Jill was
the single greatest reason for the trouble that had ultimately caused Brad to
become a crash test dummy of sorts for the female professors at the university.
Then it dawned on him that at the last big blowout he'd thrown, Jill was by far
the star attraction, and the mob of folks she drew was so large that they had to
arrive and stay in shifts.
"I think he's got it; by Jove, he's got it!" Wilson's remark went right
over the toolman's head, but it wasn't far from the mark. Wilson was uncanny
when it came to reading people's expressions and figuring out what was going on
in their minds. This was another disconcerting attribute he possessed that
always made Tim uncomfortable. "This time we will be more selective when it
comes to invitations. In point of fact why don't we start asking who are those
most deserving of an invitation to attend the debut of Brad in his new state,
albeit transitional for at least another month or so? My guess is that Jill
would top the list, with those university people responsible for Brad's current
condition close behind, and then possibly his little girlfriend, Angela.
Naturally protocol would dictate that other close members of the family such as
Randi and Mark and even Nana would be expected to receive an invitation as
well."
Tim shrugged his shoulders, but could not argue with Wilson's logic. The
only problem now was the lack of other people who would be most interested in
putting the hammer down on these responsible for Brad's plight. Then it dawned
on him. Those who didn't have an axe to grind with the university folk, but who
had attended Jill's wild weekend party would be more likely to come just for the
opportunity to take another crack at Jill's crack, so to speak. Naturally once
they realized that there was only one Jill, but many others worthy of their
attentions, to wit the other university crowd, the problem would be solved.
However this in turn led to another set of questions that had to be answered. A
list had to be drawn up of people sufficiently interested in doing bad things to
mere strangers in lieu of spending quality time with Jill. That was something he
and Wilson would have to handle.
There remained a much larger isssue to address. How would Tim get the
university crowd to stand still for what would happen to them? Now that was
something that only Wilson could handle. No sooner had he formed his question
then Wilson beat him to the punch. "That's easy Tim. All that is necessary is
for them to have an opportunity to do some networking wth the other folks and
enjoy some of the libations that I will have prepared for this occasion. You do
remember that very relaxing cup of tea you had earlier this evening, don't you?
Well that is but one of many special brews that are within my capability of
making and dispensing in such a manner as to raise no suspicions on the part of
the consumers." Tim was awed to be in the presence of such an evil genius.
Wilson glanced up at the ceiling and suggested that they plan on picking
up where they left off on the morrow, since it was well past his bedtime. In
that robe it was very easy to see that he was not wearing a watch, yet it wasn't
until he glanced at the ceiling that he made his remark. Tim moved closer to
where Wilson was standing and looked up at the strange set of markings etched
overhead. Were they some unknown method of allowing those who knew, to tell
time? Tim dismissed that idea as foolish and was about to take his leave when
Wilson commented it was 12:32 AM. A chill ran up the spine of the toolman as he
hurried from Wilson's strange house and fled back to the comfort and security of
his traditional abode.
It wasn't until late in the following afternoon that Tim made his way
over to see Wilson. It had been a bear of a day. The Tool Time audience had
sucked and Al must have had the rag on the way he was acting. At times during
the show, Tim was probably about three minutes from going postal in living
color, but was saved by the final commercial for some sort of reprocessed
artificial food that ran long enough for him to get a grip on himself instead of
Al's throat. To add to his problems the new babe that was supposed to replace
Heidi, who was doing time for trying to separate her boyfriend from his cock
with one of the Binfird 500 chain saws, flaked on him.
As usual Wilson immediately put Tim at a disadvantage, opening his door
to allow him entrance about a millisecond before the toolman rang his bell.
"Come in fellow conspirator and take a seat in the parlor. I have much to share
with you." Wilson sounded quite pleased with himself and this elevated Tim's
mood somewhat. Tim looked toward the area where the two Japanese ladies had been
hanging last evening, and to his dismay he found it unoccupied. Wilson chuckled
and promised some entertainment later when they had finished solidifying the
list of invitees and the schedule for this little "clambake" as Wilson referred
to it. Tim took a seat after checking for tarantulas or some other ugly surprise
that did occur on occasion when he visited the parlor.
Heading the list was Wilson himself, followed by the boys, Nana, Al,
Tim's brother, Jack, only Wilson had identified him incorrectly as Bob. What was
this world coming to when a man like Wilson started making mistakes like this?
Tim passed this correction along to his neighbor who winced and stated that Tim
had continuously referred to his younger brother as Bob during that wild weekend
that had featured Jill. "No, its Jack as in jack-off or jackass, that's how I
remember what his name is." Wilson gave him a bona fide Rock eyebrow arch, but
changed the name on the list.
"Who are these people? The only two I recognize in this group are
Tighttwat and Honeypussy. What does the P in Tighttwat's name stand for, pussy
or prune?" Tim's attempt at humor fell on a stone-faced Wilson who sighed and
replied. "No Tim, it's Penelope, from the Greek myth." Tim could not resist
replying, "I didn't realize you had a lisp, Wilson." For a brief instant the sky
opened revealing a tongue of flame, but quickly closed as Wilson regained
control of the situation. The fact that during this briefest of moments Tim's
hair stood straight up and he discovered he could see through Wilson's house out
to a sea of fire, convinced the toolman to quit the funny patter and get
serious.
"I have to hand it to you, where did you get all these names from? I
presume this Professor Meadowes is Muffin, right? Who are the other three
ladies?" Tim was truly impressed and this admission molified his neighbor to the
point that he forgave Tim for being Tim.
"They are the student assistants to professors Meadowes and Honeypussy.
I managed to obtain this information by speaking to a charming lady in the
university personnel office who gave me the correct names and titles for each
university person on my list." Tim shook his head and grunted, somewhat amused
by the names. "Melissa Poontag, Samantha Dervish, Jennifer Hitton, I presume the
second "t" is silent. Wilson my friend, you have to admit that these are not
exactly run of the mill names." His co-conspirator smiled and nodded. That
admission restored the toolman to his usual confident self. "OK Wilson I'll do
my best not to act stupid about some of these names, but it'll take a lot of
willpower on my part."
Tim continued to run down the list, beginning to put two and two
together. He grasped the fact that Rhonda, as well as the fat girl's two sisters
and mother were on the list and he discovered that her last name was Meitster,
proof that she was from sturdy Teutonic stock. He learned that Professor Graves
first name was Hanna, and that Jill's advisor was Wanda Wharton and Alicia
Frichette was her live-in lesbian lover. He remembered how they did everything
but turn Jill's insides out during that wild weekend. It was an impressive list
of university folks that Wilson had compiled and it was pure gold as far as Tim
was concerned. It was then that Wilson paid another amazing dividend. He had it
on good authority, his source could not be disclosed, that there was no love
lost between the Social Studies and Human Physiology departments. Tim leaped to
his feet and punched the air in triumph, this was one plan that was coming
together perfectly!
There was Angela and Mark's little thirteen year-old sweetie, fifteen
young studs from Brad's soccer team, but only two invitees from the camera club
and none from the school paper. In their stead were a trio of names he did not
recognize at all. They turned out to be Randi's three favorite clients, all
wealthy women in their late 50s and beyond. Wilson observed that their presence
would make Nana feel more comfortable, when Wilson wasn't making her feel very
uncomfortable. Higher math always gave Tim a headache, but he managed to keep
his shoes on as he counted, coming up with an invitation list totaling 42
invitees besides Tim, Jill and the changling formerly known as Brad. Tim looked
over to Wilson and gave him the high sign. "This works for me; as usual you have
done a fantastic job, I couldn't have pulled this off without your help." As the
last of his words left his mouth, Wilson's figure began to shimmer and it got
awfully hot in the parlor for the briefest of moments.
"What say you to a nice cup of herbal tea? I'll be using a much
different combination of ingredients for this one and I'd love your opinion on
it." Tim remembered what had happened when he drank that first cup. It had made
him see things strangely, but after a time it sure made him relax and "get down"
as some of the stage hands would say when they described taking illegal drugs,
but never during the show, that was a no-no. He accepted his host's offer and
settled back to relax and do some advanced planning for his little clambake.
The tea was quite different, it had a very slightly sweet taste and a
delicate aroma that reminded him of ripening pears, the kind he used to pick
from the tree that grew in the backyard of the property on which the family
lived when he was just beginning to discover those creatures known as girls.
Then the strangest thing happened, he was back in that house again peeping
through the keyhole as his mother and father went at it like two jungle beasts.
He was sweating like a pig but his eyes was glued to that opening and his hand
was working on his pecker as fast and hard as it could go. Damn! His dad really
was hung, and his mom had a pair of tits that were amazing for their size and
the fact that they hardly moved when she took off her bra.
His old man was on top of his mom and her legs were hanging over his
shoulders as his dick pounded away inside her hairy cunt. Mom's muff was black
as night and so thick you couldn't see her cunt lips. The bedsprings were
creaking in rhythm to the thrusts that his father was delivering, while the
whole time his mom was pushing her pussy up to meet every stroke he gave her.
"You ready for it in the ass?" Tim's ears had pricked up at the sound of his
dad's voice, for he knew what was about to happen; he'd seen it a few times and
it made him feel great to watch his dad's big stiff cock worm its way between
his mom's big ass cheeks while she chanted for him to "Fuck it , fuck it, make
me feel it!" It was hard to believe that this was the same person as the one
that served up his oatmeal every morning, but there she was letting it all hang
out.
They changed positions quickly with his mother now on her hands and
knees, wiggling her big butt towards dad's huge cock that he was lining up to
plunge into her tight asshole. She looked over her shoulder to make sure he was
in position. She gasped and let out a soft moan as his hands came down on her
shoulders and the tip of his cock began to probe around to find that tight
little hole. His mom's hiss announced that he was beginning to pack it into her.
Her head tossed from side to side as he got more and more of his big cock up her
asshole. "Oh yessssssss" That sound coming from his mom made the hair on little
Tim's neck stand at attention and his hand shifted into a higher gear as his
impending ejaculation neared.
Tim's eyes flew open and he stared down at his crotch to discover that
Miko was kneeling before him sucking happily on his cock which was on the verge
of exploding. A few seconds later he hosed the Japanese teenager with a flood of
cum that felt as if it would never stop. To her credit she kept her mouth
fastened to his twitching joint until the last spasm of cum had been pumped into
her warm, wet mouth and swallowed down with a smacking sound announcing that she
enjoyed every drop.
His head still was swimming as he glanced around the room. Seated over
in one corner, his eyes closed and a blissful look on his smooth, unlined face
was Wilson, his cock buried inside Yuko's mouth. Traces of cum were leaking from
its sides, and the old Japanese woman's cheeks were bulging with the contents
that had obviously been recently transferred from Wilson's churning testicles to
her mouth. His eyes opened and shut quickly once, then again before remaining
open. "I was back in Uganda and it was wonderful! How was your trip, neighbor of
mine?"
( To be continued)
