By Cor
As soon as he realized he was awake, Jeff just laid there and listened…
No coughing, and no TV. Pa was working, then. There was something special about –
Oh, yeah. It was finally here. The big day.
He’d been waiting so long for this, and part of him was dreading it a little too.
After a couple minutes he eased out of bed and looked through the piles on the floor for a fairly clean pair of jump-pants. He had one jump-shirt left that was wrinkled, but clean. Then he wandered to the bathroom.
Jeff was nervous. Shit… But that was understandable. Any minute now, he could be put to work.
He headed for the kitchen, glancing toward his pa’s den. The dark wood door was closed, as it always was when he was in there. There was no telling when he’d be coming out.
Or, to put it in plain words, when he’d be let out.
On the message board stuck to the refrigerator, his pa had already written “WHOO HOOOO! BIG 18” in big capital letters.
Jeff smiled and shook his head. The coffee was cold, so he filled his mug and opened the vectioner. There was a storage container in there.
He pulled it out, wondering what his pa had been thinking, and shook it a little as he stuck his mug inside and swung the door closed. “Twenty seconds,” he said to the door.
He figured it out. “Yeah!,” he barked, tearing off the lid.
Pa. What a guy.
Cushion cookies. It was the absolute best thing his pa knew how to bake – and they had real raisins in ’em, which Jeff fuckin’ loved. Pa hadn’t used all of the new grapes for his wine, then. The last time Jeff could remember raisins was when he turned fifteen.
He shoved a whole cookie in his mouth, started chewing… and made a sound of pure bliss.
Excitement. He felt it behind him – strong happiness, held in check. Jeff spun around, already grinning. His pa got cut loose early, then?
No. Not yet. It had to be the driver. Felt like Pa, only stronger. Or maybe his pa had ended up being more like the driver.
“Hey,” he said to the doorway, still smiling, nodding a couple times as he chewed. The vectioner chinged behind him…
Yeah. Hell, I’ve got one excited driver here, he thought, finally swallowing. He’d never felt its mood so clearly. Or maybe it was closer than usual.
“Raisins,” he drawled, lifting the container. “Thanks, dude.”
Voom. Instantly gone. The sense of being watched, that happy presence – just zipped right out the door.
Jeff put another cookie in his mouth and started chewing. He waited for a few seconds, but nothing happened… so he turned around and got his coffee.
The driver would be back. Our roommate, as Pa called it sometimes.
Oh, shit, raisins were so incredibly good…
It watched them all the time. That was normal. He and his pa had been caught by the driver fourteen years ago, the last time, and that’s the way it was. The computer said that 656 days from today they’d arrive at the colony, and both of them could hardly wait. The women slightly outnumbered the men there. Jeff didn’t know why that was, but during the last few years he definitely understood why his pa talked about pussy in that low, soulful voice.
The driver first latched onto Pa when he was fourteen or fifteen. It was caulked to him from the launch-start. After a couple years it made his ma and pa have sex, which she was not okay with. Jeff had never met her, but the other trikers had looked after him whenever the driver was working on his pa.
When they went on the tripship the poor old guy thought he’d really tricked the driver good, but a couple months later it took ’em away. Jeff was four when it happened. He slept through it – the most exciting event of his life, and he missed the whole thing. For years his pa refused to say much about it, and Jeff thought he’d finally figured out why – Pa had been unconscious too. It probably drugged them. Used the vacuum suits. Jeff’s first time getting stoned, and his first space walk… The driver got ’em to its own ship, one way or another. Even the computer wouldn’t tell them shit about the tripship, so the driver obviously didn’t want ’em to know.
Jeff didn’t care nearly as much about what had happened in the past as he did about the snatch he was gonna get when they landed. His pa, too. The driver’s ship kept taking ’em closer and closer to all those women, and until then they had plenty of food and cigarettes…
Pa talked to other people on the computer, most nights, and said that was the only thing that kept him from flipping out. His job was getting harder, or maybe wearing him out more than it used to – but he didn’t seem to be miserable or anything. Jeff had been real curious about other people when he was little, but the computer turned into something that he had to use for the learning-programs or the digidoctor. He hated it.
When Jeff thought about anybody other than his pa, it was Shalla, a dark-skinned woman two years older than him, but about the same height. The day he and his pa arrived at the colony she was gonna smile and grab his hand, pull him to a nice quiet pod and fuck him for days and days. Eat, sleep, and fuck some more until he was too sore to move…
She was just somebody he dreamed about. Jeff hoped real women were like that. When Shalla nipped at the tattoos on his thick shoulders, it made him pant like a dog. Set him off for real. Of course, the driver hadn’t tattooed him yet. That came with the job.
Before today, the closest thing Jeff had to a job was that he had to do the damn learning-programs, and he had to lift weights every day. But he was an adult now. That was a good thing, or a real fuckin’ shame, depending on how fucked up his pa was.
Forget breakfast – he had cushion cookies. Jeff brought the container and his coffee into the living room, thinking how he should stop and wipe off the counter because his pa had a real rash up his ass about keeping the kitchen clean – but fuck that, it’s my birthday and I’m eighteen years old now. He landed on the sofa, hoping a Sclerran rugby game would be on…
Reaching for the remote, he saw an open pack of cigarettes next to it.
Oh, man.
And then – how cool! – he remembered his birthday again. That’s right…
He set down his coffee mug, put the cookies right next to his leg – and picked up the pack.
That same old urge was wide awake already. Yeah. I could go out into the mechroom right now and fire one up, he thought. It’s legal. Or he could wait awhile – even the thought of putting it off got him excited, deep down inside, because when he could finally sneak off it would feel so fuckin’ great.
Slowly, he pulled out his lighter.
Jeff couldn’t believe that there were cigarettes just sitting there, waiting for him – and that he hadn’t even thought about ’em yet today. Usually he just needed to see an ashtray or hear his pa cough and then he started thinking about a smoke. Never more than four or five in a day… well, sometimes it was closer to ten. But it had been a couple years since he started, and now if he went without for too long he got pretty nervous. It wasn’t a habit or anything… Pa, now, he was hooked. Damn straight.
Today he could smoke anywhere he wanted. It just hadn’t occurred to him yet. Incredible.
Looking behind him, Jeff wondered what his pa would say if he came out and just saw Jeff there, on the couch, smoking. Probably he already knew. His pa sure didn’t have a leg to stand on if he wanted to rag about that. Plenty of things about the old guy were irritating as hell, but he’d always been pretty honest about having flaws.
Why was there a pack here? His pa didn’t leave ’em out like this. Jeff thought about the driver, then, and looked around the room.
It couldn’t be an accident. He was legal now, and the driver knew he smoked. It knew everything. Maybe the smokes were a birthday present.
Fuck it, he thought. Moving quickly – before he could chicken out – he set down his coffee mug, shook a cigarette out of the pack and lit up.
He was glad they were left there for him. Or maybe, Jeff thought a little too late, that was some kind of test.
So what? It felt really good. His pa might not be back for hours.
The thought of Pa seeing him made him nervous… but it was kinda cool, too. Jeff had never smoked in the house before. Now he was sitting around, with a cigarette, just like his pa. No big deal. How cool was that?
As he took another drag, something happened to the air around him. It didn’t move, but there was a change – almost like it tightened up somehow. That had to be the driver.
His head whipped around anyway, before he could stop himself, to see if Pa was there.
Not yet. Somebody else was watching, though. For sure.
Dammit, I am not gonna do that when he does show his ass here, Jeff told himself. No reaction at all, from me, because now I can smoke anywhere I want.
He took a real hard tug on his cigarette, and reached for his coffee.
About an hour later, he heard a heavy sigh.
By that time, Jeff had forgotten all about his pa. He froze, for a second, with maybe his fourth smoke in his hand – and then made himself roll his head around, loosening his neck. It’s my birthday, Jeff thought defensively… and here’s my cigarette. Yeah. And now the old triker would find out, if he didn’t know already.
From the sounds, he knew his pa had taken a coffee mug out and filled it.
Jeff kept listening. I’m not going to worry about this shit, he thought. I’m eighteen now.
There – now that was the vectioner door, closing, and then he heard Pa’s lighter…
Big ol’ feet, thumping closer. Shit. Here goes.
He landed heavily on the other end of the couch. His hair was like a horse’s mane, all wild, still wet from the shower, and all he had on was a towel wrapped around him.
“Well. What have you got there?,” his pa said, all smartass about it. “Big adult dude. You’re an idiot.”
“So are you,” Jeff shot back without even looking, ready for a fight.
That got a chuckle. “No shit. Feels great to finally burn one inside, doesn’t it? Sacked out on the couch.”
“Yeah,” Jeff said, surprised that Pa understood. “It does.”
“You don’t have to keep wandering out to the fuckin’ mechroom.”
Shit…
Oh, he was slick. His pa set him up, and slid right in there with the put-away. Jeff felt like an ass –
Then Pa chuckled.
Immediately, it was all okay. Jeff was relieved. He finally looked over, quickly, and then down at his cigarette.
Yeah, the old guy had that smile on his face… looking straight at Jeff as if he was telepathic or something, like he knew it all and was trying hard not to laugh.
“You knew?”
“Of course I knew,” his pa said, and then he actually did chuckle a few times. “Two years now. Right? I was a kid once.”
Jeff hated it when he pulled that shit. “On the lunar base. Silverberg 5. Right? When it caught you, it made you -“
“Quiet. Okay. It’s a done deal now. At least you didn’t act like an asshole before. Hey, look at me, Pa, I’m still a pup but I’m gonna smoke anywhere I want, just like you, and nobody’s gonna stop me, blah blah blah.”
“Well, of course not,” Jeff stammered. “I wasn’t going to… y’know, break the rules. Right in front of you.”
“And that’s a sign of respect, I think.” His pa took a drag and nodded. “I’ll take it. I appreciate that.”
“Sneaking around behind your back, though,” Jeff said, feeling guilty all of a sudden, like a little kid –
His pa laughed. “Been there. Yeah. Well, it’s not the only thing you’ll get to do today.” He cocked his head toward the den.
Jeff nodded slowly. He was gonna start working too. Pa had just confirmed that it would be today. The driver didn’t let his pa tell him much about the actual work. All kinds of hints had slipped out, over the years, but that wasn’t the same as knowing just what to expect.
How cool was his pa, anyway? Sitting there, watching his only kid smoke, and he didn’t yell once. Instead, he just lit a new cigarette off his old one.
Jeff snuck another look at him. His arms were damn near the same size as Jeff’s. Solid, faded color from his fingers to his neck…
Real soon now, Jeff would start getting his own tattoos. He hoped it wouldn’t hurt too much. The driver’s artistic talent was obvious enough. Long before they landed he’d look so much like his pa that everybody would think they were brothers –
“I’m not ready to hand you a beer, though,” Pa muttered. “Or a joint. Fuck. It’s weird enough seeing you smoke.”
“Aaaawww,” Jeff replied sarcastically. He was really curious about drugs. And booze. The driver had all kinds of fun shit, and that seemed to be part of the job. Maybe today it would get him drunk…
No matter how hard the driver worked him, he was still a triker – and they sure knew how to relax.
“Smartass kid. Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
They looked at each other, and both of ’em sighed.
Jeff was very relieved. That actually went better than he expected. And now Pa knew they were both smokers – and even that still made Jeff feel cool, the word “smoker.” I’m a fuckin’ smoker, just like you. The driver gave me these cigarettes. And the roof wasn’t going to fall in or anything.
He didn’t know why his pa was smirking like that, but it probably had something to do about feeling like an old man, now that he –
“Can’t believe I got an eighteen-year old kid,” he said, sounding as if he was honestly puzzled by the fact.
“Uh-huh,” he said automatically.
“That means I’m thirty-five. Fuck.”
Not my fault, Jeff thought to himself, talking another drag.
“I got it to hold off until you were eighteen.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Wish I could’ve done more…”
Jeff suddenly realized that his pa was still babbling.
“You know that. Right?”
“Well, uh… yeah,” he finally said, staring at his coffee mug. Something about doing more. Holding off –
Wait.
“Good.”
Jeff looked at the old man. Figuring it out.
His pa finished his cigarette, steadily watching, so Jeff had himself another drag too. Yeah, the old guy was still more cool than Jeff, he had to give him that. He’d smoked so much for so long that he was never self-conscious about it. Lookin’ thoroughly tough.
Growly voice, usually pretty calm, and all those tattoos. Even the way he sat, and walked…
When Jeff was really little – hell, it wasn’t all that long after they were taken off the tripship – he decided they had some tiger-blood in them, partly because of the way his pa’s eyes looked when he was happy. And Pa would always chuckle, when Jeff said that, and growl like a tiger.
He sure was a wild man. The memory of him, growling like that. Real happy eyes. Twenty-one years old then, Jeff thought. Damn.
“Thirty-five,” Jeff mumbled, trying to be nice. He punched out his cigarette – and looked at the pack.
“Yeah. I know.” Pa laughed once. Didn’t sound too happy… and he had that dark look on his face. Even with all those wrinkles he said were “laugh lines”, his pa didn’t seem happy, right then. But he kept trying.
He doesn’t want to wreck my birthday, Jeff thought. The big 1-8. I could go for another smoke already.
“There’s a surprise waiting for you -“
Jeff sat up. “Al-right!”
“Wait. Uh… Lots of surprises. My presents are gonna have to wait until tonight. What I meant was… Jeff, uh -“
“Work?”
Pa nodded, closing his eyes. “Yeah. Time to go to work.”
Neither of them said anything.
“You mean… now?,” Jeff said quietly.
After a long sigh the old guy just said, “Yup.”
“The driver’s waiting?”
That made Pa snort again. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“It’s been watching me all day,” Jeff said. He was nervous again, so he got another cigarette out of the pack. “Closer… uh, more than usual.”
His pa understood. He just nodded, getting another cigarette out. “It really didn’t wanna wait this long.”
“Happy birthday,” Jeff mumbled –
His pa’s eyebrows went up, and then he grinned real big. “Where’d you get that smartass fuckin’ mouth?”
“I wonder.” He lit up.
“Listen. Do I always show up, after work, with all my parts still attached?”
Jeff looked at the carpet. This was an old lecture. “Yeah.”
“And am I drooling all over myself, here? Talkin’ to imaginary voices?”
“Not yet.”
“Yeah. Not yet.”
He was worried about Jeff. But calm. That same ol’ grin…
Just seeing that made it okay, somehow. If Pa was that relaxed, and he went to work every day… Jeff could handle it.
“Okay,” he said to his pa, after another drag.
“Okay? Huh. And at least you get to see what the den looks like.”
Jeff had never, ever been allowed to go into the den. Tigers had dens, didn’t they? My pa, he’s really a tiger…
The driver wanted him to go into the den. And there was no refusing it, because sooner or later –
Well, a lot sooner.
“Take a leak, first,” Pa told him, dropping his eyes. “Before you go in.”
“Just tell me again… it’s gonna be okay.”
“Oh, sure – it will,” he shot right back, nodding. “Real careful. Insane, intense, and all that, but don’t worry. I got all the stuff for your favorite supper, and it promised me you’ll be out by eight. That’s a fuckin’ short first day, trikepup. My first day lasted about four days.” He chuckled real quietly, thinking about it.
Jeff took his time getting off the couch. “You better have a really cool present for me, Pa. The best ever. I… think I’m gonna need it.”
“You’re covered.” That big lowlife grin came back.
Jeff felt quite a bit better, just seeing his face. It was definitely gonna be alright. Hell, maybe he’d even like it. How twisted was that?
“Yeah, yeah,” Jeff sassed, chuckling a little. “Don’t get too stoned.”
“I’ll wait for you. Show you how it’s done.” And then he laughed, like he was joking. Or maybe not –
“C’mere,” his pa ordered.
“What?” Jeff stood up, though.
The old guy looked at the floor and stuck out his hand. An old signal.
Awkwardly, Jeff moved his cigarette over to his left hand so he could reach down with his right.
Good, strong fingers wrapped around his own. Pa always shook hands the same way, with their thumbs on top. Hang in there, he used to say, and Jeff never did figure that one out…
Smoke was still floating away from his pa, and he had his own cigarette going too. That was fuckin’ wild. Jeff tried to figure out if Pa was going to say something, with his face changing like that. Different emotions. Then he grinned real big again.
Jeff let out a big sigh.
“You’re a rough son of a bitch,” the old guy growled. Jeff used to hear that compliment all the time, when he was still a little squirt. “You can take it.”
After he repeated that to himself a couple times, Jeff nodded. Don’t say anything gross, Pa, please just shut up now. Cool old triker. I know you love me, and I love you right back. You’re my pa. Just don’t embarrass yourself, here.
His pa squeezed a little harder, let go quick – and slapped his hand away.
“Now git.”
Standing there in the bathroom, trying to relax enough to piss, Jeff realized something. The next time he saw his pa, both of them would be… working for the driver. He wouldn’t be just a trikepup anymore.
But he could take it. His pa said so, and if anybody ought to know, dammit, it was Pa.
All too soon, he was standing at the doorway… and walking into the den.
Plain brown walls. No furniture. Jeff was totally surprised.
Looking around, dammit, he just expected invisible hands to grab him any minute. Or rope.
A few seconds went by, and he remembered something his pa had said before – As soon as I light a smoke, it’s on me. Maybe that was a signal.
Jeff really hoped it wouldn’t hit him with too much, right away. He didn’t want to act like a total lop. He lit a cigarette, and his hands were shaking…
Noise. From far away. Under him?
Kicking out the smoke, Jeff heard a little click.
The closet door opened slowly.
But there was a pole, inside. Straight up and down. Real shiny, with a wide hole underneath.
Jeff whistled under his breath.
It was like in a firehouse. He’d never seen one, much less a pole like this, but there were pictures on the old memchips. They used to have firehouses… Fire stations, that was another phrase for the same thing they had on Terra. Higher gravity than the citybase where Jeff was born.
He never knew there was a lower level. Sounds – his pa’s noises – were swallowed up completely. That made sense now. He knew how loud his pa could yell. Metal all around, probably, and Pa could make all the noise he wanted…
Jeff, too. That was a creepy thought, when he applied it to himself. Going down that pole – and of course, it would be impossible to climb out and get home until the driver… let him do it.
The pole was how he went right down into the trap. A big cage, maybe. Howl and shout as loud as he wanted, and Pa wouldn’t even hear it. Jeff used to press his ear against the door of the den, and he’d never once heard his pa working.
Man, this just totally sucked. I’m afraid, he thought. Dammit –
And he walked fast, right to the fuckin’ pole, before he could change his mind.
He was eighteen now. The driver was waiting. It had been looking forward to today, but for a different reason.
And maybe the wait had driven it totally insane. Blind impulse, absolutely itching to get at him ’cause it felt so strongly about Pa… and here he was, about to drop right into its hands. Literally.
Jeff felt a strong sense of doom, but he remembered his pa’s grin. There was no way he’d send Jeff into a nightmare and smile at him like that.
There were some good things. Drugs, down there, and booze. All part of the job. And tattoos.
Also some “big advantages,” his pa had said once – and remembering the way he’d it, the look on his face, Jeff was positive that blowing his wad was involved. And Jeff was always ready for that.
If Pa dealt with this every day, and the driver hadn’t killed him yet –
Jeff took another drag, and started the slow trip down the pole.
Exofuck, the smells were… cool.
Jeff squinted and looked around in the dim light, sniffing. Leather, grease, alcohol, but mainly smoke – not just cigarettes, either. His pa’s koolweed. Alright.
Today I am a man.
Going to work now, just like him…
The walls were dark. Different seats and shelves lined the walls. Chains here, tables there –
I could die in here, he thought. It might just kill me. Accidentally.
A breeze came from behind him. It wasn’t a real gust of air, though… Something like that, except it was in his head. Jeff turned around.
Something was floating there. He could reach out and touch it.
Rocking back on his heel – acting a lot more like Pa than he really felt, right then – he threw his head back and took a hard tug from his smoke.
The dark object moved a little closer.
Jeff finally got up his nerve. Grabbed it.
Gloves?
A pair of tight leather gloves. Plain, no-shit trike gloves. For him.
He let the cigarette fall, and pulled ’em on.
The driver was beyond happy – with him. Energy, and so much joy, seemed to press down on his shoulders, lean against his legs. Too much intensity…
His knees buckled.
It grabbed him… under his elbows. Not mean or anything. Hands, holding him up.
Concern, fascination, friendly excitement.
Hell, yeah, it wanted to play with him. Just like Pa. Hold him over the edge of falling into total mutherfuckin’ insanity…
“Muther-f-fuck,” he sighed, just to see how it sounded.
Oh, wow, was the driver glad to have him down there.
The waves of happy success backed off a little, and the hands helped him stumble over to a chair. High legs, sticking out front, and a really high back that leaned –
It made him sit down.
Something came right under his nose. He sniffed…
Hey. A cigar. He’d never had one. Another birthday present.
A match lit it, and he had to keep puffing to get it to burn. Coughing, he remembered something his pa said, not all that long ago, when he was really high. He caught Jeff watching him smoke a cigar. Trikepup, you don’t wanna pull the smoke in as far. Seeing as you’re gonna do what I do, someday…
It was good advice. When he stopped smoking it like it was a cigarette, Jeff was okay. He really liked how much more smoke came out –
Hands wrapped around his ankle. His shoe was being pulled off. Then the other one…
Jeff puffed slowly. He felt good. Everything was so weird that it might have all been a dream, except the cigar.
His jump-pants were peeled down. Nothing was there, doing it, but they were being pulled down anyway. Off his left ankle, and his right. Dropping to the floor.
The cigar was pulled from his teeth.
“Hey,” he said, reaching for it. But the driver moved it up a little more – and pulled his shirt was pulled over his head. Then the cigar was bumped, making the ash fall off. It floated back to his hand.
He was naked, except for his new gloves. That didn’t bother him as much as it should’ve. Probably it was making him feel better than he… really did. Fuckin’ great cigar.
When his arms started getting lifted up, he looked from one wrist to the other. The driver had hands, alright – he could feel ’em. Interesting.
There were things floating down…
Thick black cuffs.
The leather was layered, and heavy. When he pulled hard, it creaked – but Jeff couldn’t get his hands free. That was scary, and sick. Also kinda cool…
His legs were cuffed down too, and not together. Being spread like this made him embarrassed, and there was also no doubt left about why the driver wanted so much room, there. It was going to play with his dick.
He just couldn’t get over how happy it was.
Maybe his balls, too. It was fuckin’ inhumanly glad about something.
He shifted around. Stuck. Not just staying there, but he couldn’t do a damn thing – even if the driver started to stroke him off. It could keep going, and going…
The air seemed heavy. Local gravity fluctuation, almost – that’s how happy the driver was.
He smoked his cigar. The chair was thickly padded, and he had to admit it was comfortable. But the driver wasn’t gonna just let him sit still. Hell, the mood around him was so thick with excitement it felt like the exact opposite of being bored.
The driver wanted to keep him busy. Make him crazy. And he’d be protected from permanent harm because it wanted to maximize the intensity, keep it hot and vivid, not just one time. Every day.
This was Pa’s job… and now Jeff’s job too.
He was frightened – a little – but there was no getting away from the driver. It always won. That was another thing his pa said. Sometimes he’d be grinning as he said that.
Jeff was positive, totally fuckin’ sure, that the driver wanted him to work until they reached the colony. It knew when to back off… or else Pa would’ve gone nuts a long time ago. That crazy smile of his. Way back then – and just fifteen minutes ago. Yeah.
Somehow that was the biggest relief of all.
“Okay,” he said.
I’m a triker with a cigar, Jeff thought. Bring it on. Do your worst.
A light clicked on. Little spotlight –
There was a little steel table just past his feet. Feathers were laying there, all lined up on top of some leather straps.
What the hell…
“Oh, sure,” he laughed. “That’s it? Seriously?”
The driver’s enthusiasm grew so strong, like it was answering him, that he starting breathing harder.
Was Pa that much of a baby? No, of course not. The driver had just… trained him to be, well, totally oversensitive. Maybe that was it –
Two of the feathers floated up.
He cackled at ’em. This was a big old setup. A game. Make him think the feathers were coming, now that his feet were trapped. All of him.
This had to be a test. First, tickling wasn’t such a big deal. His pa was a lot tougher than that. And second… the driver had to be bluffing. Just trying to confuse him. It was obviously enjoying this – scaring him, but with feathers. Sure. Twisted, and in a playful way. Not that the cuffs were innocent. It wanted to see what he’d do if it pretended it was gonna actually follow through with this.
The feathers kept coming.
Jeff whooped once. Then he kept chuckling, slow and thick. The whole setup just too nerve-wracking. Totally silly, and scary, both at the same time. If the driver actually had any fuckin’ idea how terminally ticklish he –
Wait. This was the driver. Watching ’em both, all those years.
That explained it! What a perfect way to tease the fuck out of him. Jeff was trying to brace for serious jerk-off action, and it brings the damn feathers right up to his feet. Scare him good. All those feathers, right close by, laid out real nice.
How close would it bring them, before they started backing away?
He couldn’t stop laughing. Just a hilarious prank. The driver was smarter than he realized. Planning all this…
It loved to tease, Pa said. Another time when he’d drank too much. Fuckin’ tease, and tease, and then tease some more.
Right over his toes, the feathers paused. It made ’em turn, slow and lazy, as if there were fingers rolling the stem-parts across imaginary thumbs.
Jeff could barely squirm. Hell, if he could’ve that just might affect the amount of tickling…
Taking his shirt off, even. That was brilliant. His perfectly helpless, defenseless body was gonna get it. Really, ultimately worked on. It was so diabolical.
He crowed laughter.
The feathers dipped, moving, and his legs started to kick. Hard. Even his arms were trying to pull him backward.
No.
Both feet. That had actually been a stroke. The feathers actually… No way. Did it really just tickle him?
Jeff stopped laughing.
The driver was beyond happy. Absolutely determined.
The feathers it was holding swept back up his soles.
Get up get up go go get away!
He threw his head around. The cigar slipped out. Jeff grunted, real quick, and hissed in air through his teeth. “No,” he said to the feathers, and that one word came out sounding as if he was about six years old –
Down.
Both feathers brushed their way back down. So, they’d probably move back up again. Oh, shit…
The driver started to laugh.
Jeff opened his eyes. He was all tense, with his head back. Gritting his teeth. He looked around, and didn’t see –
Crazy laughter, really wild. Jeff wasn’t actually hearing it, though. Strong, carefree roaring bounced around in his head.
Warm greetings.
The driver laughed again, low and sinister – and made him think of smooth hands that weren’t human.
Gloves that didn’t want to stop. Ever.
All kinds of brushes, and special tools.
It wanted to eat him up. The fun way.
Pa – all those years, keeping the driver happy.
Unbelievable… lust.
Oh, there was no one more fun than his pa. It found him, kept hunting him down, and finally it snuck him and his son off the tripship.
It thought about him continuously.
The driver knew every spot on Pa’s body almost down to the cellular level, how he thought, what he dreamed, his four favorite ways of being stroked off, every type of sound he could make.
And now Jeff worked for it too. A lot of his DNA came from its best friend. And that made it… unthinkably happy.
Two fine tigers –
Jeff started to weep.
Of course. Yet it was so cool, such an honor. Too much…
It growled – that joking, familiar noise – and made him think about the big tattoo on Pa’s back. A strong Bengal tiger pouncing, or maybe leaping down, being chased by shining black gloves…
I want that, he thought desperately.
And it was so pleased that he started to panic.
That will be your very first tattoo, it promised – commanded – which you want because I enjoy making you long for it, and we will be even happier when I grant your wish and mine as well…
Little triker-tiger. Mine.
He shouted at the top of his lungs, long and loud.
His pleasure was thoroughly enjoyed – and amplified, when it echoed back through.
The driver’s feathers moved up, and down, up, and down…