Pantomime Dwarf Pt. 06

Story Info
The final chapter.
3.1k words
3.91
10.6k
2
0

Part 6 of the 6 part series

Updated 10/30/2022
Created 01/08/2004
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Copyright Jeanne D'Artois April 2004/May 2013

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

*************************************************

Chapter Eight

I woke up with a warm feeling between my legs as if Alan had just finished kissing my pussy. I lay in bed blissfully dreaming of his lips and remembering the 'I love you' of last night.

Alan and I have been an item for what? Three days? Yet he was now an essential part of my life. We would have to face public ridicule because of the vast disparity in our sizes. He is a dwarf and I am a giantess. So what? We're in love.

Yesterday evening had been a trial for both of us and for our friends. We had been reading through the women's group pantomime that called for Alan to pretend to kiss the pussies of every woman on stage. The reading had demonstrated that he, and they, could endure that but the emotions raised had been raw. Andrea had presented him with her bare lips. He had obliged her by kissing them but she'd been racked by guilt. She would be joining us this morning. I hoped we could get her to accept that what she did was trivial.

Washed, dressed and breakfasted, I answered the phone. Alan was on his way. He reminded me to ring Andrea to ensure she would come. I did. She was reluctant but she too was on her way. I put the coffeepot on.

Alan arrived first. I swung him up into my arms. We kissed. I hugged him to me. We had barely spoken a word to each other, being busy with more interesting activities, when Andrea arrived. She looked unhappy. I passed Alan to her because he can't hug a normal sized woman when standing on his own two feet.

They kissed then Andrea put Alan down. I hugged her, noticing that she was dressed very differently. She usually wore a skirt. Last night, in common with the women's entire group, she had worn a long full skirt so that Alan could get underneath. This morning she was wearing jeans. They looked good on her but they were such a change that I commented.

"I'm wearing these so I don't get tempted," Andrea said.

"Tempted?"

"Yes. I liked Alan against my pussy. It was wrong and I'm sorry but I'd like more. No man ever did that to me without an ulterior motive. They did it as a passing duty, no more. With Alan..."

"...But Alan's mine," I said.

"I know," Andrea replied. "That's why I'm wearing the jeans. I'd like more, but not from someone who is already committed to you."

"Thank you, Andrea," said Alan. "but it wasn't necessary. You are strong enough to control yourself without wearing jeans, aren't you?"

"I hope so, but after last night I'm not sure."

"Of course you are," I retorted. "What you need is a good man between your legs."

Andrea laughed hollowly.

"Where will I find one of those? With Dirk coming out of prison soon, any 'good' man would be scared off. He is a violent bastard and would half kill anyone he found with me."

"But you are not his," objected Alan. "You are divorced and you have an injunction against Dirk coming anywhere near you."

"That didn't stop him before. It wouldn't stop him now. He thinks I'm his 'property' and he only has to claim me."

"He won't." I said. "If he tries, he'll get arrested."

"That might be too late. I'm really afraid that he'll kill me if he can."

Alan went into the kitchen to fetch the coffee. Andrea stopped talking as soon as he left the room. When he returned we drank the coffee and talked about non-controversial subjects. I was just about to try to re-start the conversation about Andrea's action with Alan when my phone rang.

"Marie!"

"Yes."

"It's Julia. Is Andrea with you?"

"Yes."

"Thank goodness. Get her out of there -- anywhere. Now! Dirk's out of jail and back in town. He went to her house but it was empty. April came along to see Andrea and he recognised April as one of Andrea's friends. He beat her up in the street until she told him the names and addresses of Andrea's friends. The neighbours called the police but April is badly injured. Dirk took off before the police arrived. He is going round everyone's house and the police need time to cover us all. Get going."

"OK Julia. We're on the move. I'll get back to you on my mobile."

"Dirk's got April's mobile. It has all our numbers on it. He's on a motorbike. Go!"

I put the phone down.

Andrea was as white as a sheet.

"I heard that. Where can I go?"

"My van's outside," said Alan. "In the back of it you won't be seen. Marie? Will you check before Andrea leaves with us?"

"OK."

I opened the front door and looked up and down the street. There was no one in sight. Andrea rushed out carrying Alan. She climbed in the back of the van. I slammed the front door and joined her in the back.

Alan drove off at a normal speed.

"Andrea? Does Dirk know about me?"

"No. I don't think so. He was in jail before I met you or joined the women's group. He knew April because we've been friends a long time."

"Is my telephone number likely to be on April's mobile?"

"Shouldn't think so. Has she ever rung you?"

"No. But we are 'thinking' he doesn't know. We don't KNOW what he does know. We're going to somewhere he won't know. You certainly don't. Even Marie doesn't know of it."

"Where?"

"My uncle's farm. It has the ideal place to hole up. I'd ring to tell him we're on the way, but not while I'm driving. This van has hand controls because I can't reach the pedals. I need my hands all the time. Marie can ring Julia back. Has she warned the others?"

I reached for my phone and speed-dialled Julia.

"Julia?"

"Yes, Marie."

"We're on the move. I won't tell you where we're going in case..."

"I understand."

"Have you told the others?"

"Yes. They and I are on the way to the hospital to see April. The police approve. If we are together they can protect us. What shall I tell them?"

"Give them my number. They can ring me."

"OK. Good luck."

Alan turned down a farm road.

"Are you sure this will be safe?" I asked. "It looks isolated."

"It will be if we've got time to get out of the van and into the refuge. Can you see anyone following?"

Andrea and I peer out through the small back windows.

"No. Can't see anyone."

"OK. A couple of minutes."

We pull into a farmyard.

"Out!" Alan orders. "Over there, up that ladder."

The lightweight aluminium ladder is leaning against a Martello Tower, one of the ones built along the coast to deter Napoleon. The ladder leads to the only entrance, twelve feet up in the air. Andrea rushes up the ladder as if Dirk is behind her. Alan locks the van and follows me.

"Pull the ladder up," he orders.

I heave it up easily.

"Now shut and bar the door."

The door opens inwards. I heave it shut. It is very heavy and studded with metal. The bar is wrought iron and very heavy. I drop it in place. With the door shut the interior is very dark.

"OK," Alan sighs. "Dirk can't get at us here. No one could without explosives and this tower is designed to resist even them. More coffee, anyone?"

"Coffee?" I ask, stunned.

"Yes, Coffee. I use this place as a retreat when I want to get away from it all. I rent it from my uncle for a nominal sum. I keep basic supplies here but you'll have to make do with long life milk."

Andrea slumps against a wall. I rush to her.

"I wish it was all over. Now April is injured for me. I wish Dirk were dead. Only that way will I be free of him."

"Don't think of him," said Alan. "When the police catch him he'll be back inside for the rest of his sentence and whatever he gets given for the attack on April. Now, follow me upstairs to the living area."

He turns on a light that illuminates a central spiral staircase. At the top is a huge open plan room split into living, dining and sleeping areas. Only the kitchen and bathroom are partitioned. Alan starts to make coffee. I ring Julia.

"Julia? Marie again. We're in a safe place. How's April?"

"Not too bad. It looked worse than it was. He's broken her right arm and she's badly bruised. He left her face alone."

"He would," commented Andrea who was listening in. "He's had plenty of practice at hitting where it doesn't show."

"Have the police any clue where Dirk is?"

"No. We have warned all the neighbours we could reach to look out for him but many of them are out because it's such a nice day. The police are patrolling but all we know is that he has a motorbike -- no number, no make. He'd parked it around the corner from Andrea's house and with a helmet on no one recognised him or noticed him until he started beating Julia up."

Alan handed me a cup of coffee. Andrea's hands were shaking too much to hold a cup. He put it beside her.

"Let us know if the police find him. I'll ring the police station in a minute. Bye."

Alan picked up his mobile and dialled his uncle.

"Uncle Fred?"

"Speak up, lad, I'm at the market."

"Of course. Sorry. I'm in the Martello Tower hiding from an angry ex-husband."

"You would be, me lad. But why an ex-husband? I can understand an angry husband but an EX-husband?"

"Too long to explain, Uncle Fred. There could be danger here, real danger. Please ring me first before coming back to the farm."

"If you say so, lad. Seems a bit far-fetched. I'll want a proper explanation later."

"You'll get it. Just remember. Ring me before coming back to the farm."

"You mean it, don't you?"

"Yes, Uncle Fred. I mean it. I'm not joking."

"I can hear that. OK. I'll ring when I'm about to leave."

"Thanks Uncle Fred."

Alan turned to us.

"Uncle Fred is only a little bigger than I am. I don't want him to face Dirk. How about ringing the police, Marie?"

I dialled the police station.

"Hello, this is Marie. I'm with Andrea."

"OK, Marie. Don't say too much. Mobile phones can be overheard. Understand?"

"Yes. We have taken her to a Napoleonic place of safety. We don't think he knows of it, but even if he comes we can survive a siege. If we see him we'll let you know."

"OK. I've guessed where. Keep your heads down. He's not safe to approach."

"We know that."

"Ring me back in an hour, please. We can reach you on this number?"

"Yes. Will ring in a hour."

As soon as I ended the call we heard a motorbike. Andrea and I rushed towards one of the few windows.

"Stop!" shouted Alan. "Don't let him see you. Keep away from the windows. Come to the stairwell. NOW!"

Andrea and I stopped. We walked carefully back towards the stairwell as the motorbike's noise got louder.

"In here," said Alan, opening a small door beside the stairwell. We ducked our heads to enter. Alan shut the door behind us and pulled a lever. I gasped. On a round table in front of us was a brilliant picture of the outside.

"It's a camera obscura. My great uncle installed it. We can see him, if it is Dirk, without him seeing us."

My phone rings.

"Marie? This is Dirk. Remember me? Andrea's husband? I know she's with you. I know you're here. I recognise that runt's van, that short arse you're wasting yourself on. You should find yourself a real man, not a child sized baby."

I can't stop myself retorting:

"He's more of a man than you'll ever be, you twisted bastard."

"I thought you wouldn't resist that jibe. Now send Andrea out to me. We have things to settle."

"Never!"

I can see that Alan has dialled the police on his mobile. He motions to me to keep Dirk talking.

"If you don't let Andrea come to me I'll torch your pathetic runt's van. I'll do it."

"That will be just one more charge you'll have to answer. The police are looking for you after you attacked April."

"That stupid bitch had it coming. She wouldn't tell me where Andrea was even when I hit her."

"She couldn't. If you had half a brain you would have known she didn't know where Andrea was. Why would she go to Andrea's house if she knew she was elsewhere? You beat a woman up for not telling you what she didn't know. You are just a cowardly bully."

"So will YOU tell me where Andrea is?"

"You know where she is. She's here. So will the police be before you can get at her."

"That means you must be in the Martello Tower. You wouldn't be so confident otherwise. OK. I'm going to burn the runt's van, against the wall. See how you like being burnt. There's no other way out. You have got one minute to persuade Andrea to come out."

"For what? So you can kill her? You have an odd idea of what friends do."

"One minute."

Dirk rings off. Alan finishes speaking to the police.

"They'll be here in ten minutes." Alan says.

"He's going to burn your van under the door," I blurt out.

"Oh no!" squeals Andrea, "We'll burn."

"No we won't, Andrea," says Alan. "The door is iron sheathed with wood. The door might get hot but it can't be burnt. Nor can we. This tower is stone."

"Your van!" she wails.

"Fuck the van," snorts Alan. "It's insured. I can get another. Nothing is worth risking you."

"What do I tell Dirk when he rings back?" I ask.

"Tell him to get stuffed!" shouts Alan.

"I will."

"I'm going up on the roof. I'll try to see what he's up to. The camera obscura can't see him against the tower."

"Be careful!

"I will be, Marie. Look after Andrea."

Andrea crouches against the stairwell shivering as if she is frozen. I rush to her and hold her tight. Alan goes up the stairs and opens a trapdoor to the roof. He passes out of sight. He is back in a couple of seconds.

"Dirk's pushing the van. I can see his motorbike. I think we can stop him getting away. Bring Andrea up here, now."

Andrea is too shaken to move. I scoop her up in my arms and run up the stairs.

"Leave her there and give me a hand, Marie."

I prop Andrea against the housing of the trap door. Alan puts his finger to his lips and points to a small cannon. He brings his head to mine and whispers:

"If we drop that on his motorbike it will wreck it. He'll be on foot and won't get away."

"OK, Alan. Leave it to me. I can lift that. Take my phone. Talk to Dirk if he rings."

I peer over the parapet and locate the motorbike. It is on the side away from the door. I rush back to the cannon and stagger with it to the parapet. I rest it on the edge, judge the distance and push just as my phone rings. Alan holds it up but doesn't answer. I watch the cannon hit the bike and smash its frame. Petrol sprays out of the broken tank and ignites on the hot engine. Success. Alan answers the phone.

"Hello Dirk. I'm Alan. I'm sorry, Marie is busy."

"What was that noise? What has that bitch done?"

"Tut, tut, Dirk. Language."

"I'll give you language you useless squirt. What's she done?"

I've seen Dirk running round the tower holding the phone. He's seen the burning motorcycle. I duck below the level of the parapet.

"You cunt! I'll kill her and you. Your van's burning NOW!"

We can hear Dirk panting as he runs back to the van.

"Dirk!" Alan shouts into the phone. "Dirk! Dirk!"

"What is it, you runt? You won't stop me now."

"Be careful, Dirk," Alan shouts. "There's a butane cylinder in my van. It'll go off like a bomb."

"I don't believe anything you say, runt! Here goes."

We hear the whoosh through the phone.

There is silence for a few seconds.

"It's caught well and burning nicely. The flames are up to your door."

"Get away, Dirk! It'll blow!"

"Sod you, runt."

Alan pulls Andrea through the trapdoor. I take her from him and we crouch against the outer wall well away from a window.

The tower doesn't move as a loud explosion hits it. Glass cracks in the window directly above the entrance but that is all.

"Stay with Andrea," Alan orders. "I'll see what's happened."

The phone is silent.

Alan returns.

"Andrea?"

She looks at him blankly. She is still terrified.

"Andrea. Your wish has come true. Dirk is dead."

She sobs against me. I wrap my arms around her and lift her to my lap. I rock her gently as the police sirens sound in the distance.

The police ring Alan's mobile. I vaguely hear him talking to them. We wait until a fire engine arrives and douses the wreckage of Alan's van. I have to unbar the door because Alan couldn't shift it. We climb down the ladder into the arms of the firemen.

Later I was told that the police were monitoring the calls between Dirk and my phone. They had heard everything he said. The inquest into his death was straightforward despite the lurid headlines. By that time we had resumed our lives and Dirk was stale news to us. April recovered after a couple of weeks in plaster.

Andrea's indiscretion with Alan was forgotten. It didn't matter at all compared to the other events.

All the copies of the script for the women's group pantomime were shredded. With Alan's help we performed Rumplestiltskin with him in the title role.

Alan and I are still exploring our love. I try not to be jealous when our friends pick him up for a kiss. We are all rebuilding our lives but some of us are still wary of men -- except Alan.

The End

Note: Written April 2004 and slightly revised May 2013.

Please rate this story
The author would appreciate your feedback.
  • COMMENTS
Anonymous
Our Comments Policy is available in the Lit FAQ
Post as:
Anonymous
Share this Story

READ MORE OF THIS SERIES

Similar Stories

Oh Baby! What a Sitter! He was her sitter. Now he needs one, and gets something more.in Erotic Couplings
The Sentimental Succubus A succubus falls in love with a virginal human shut-in.in NonHuman
Switched Up Costumes A Halloween party costume change becomes interesting.in Erotic Couplings
The Missing Dragon An elusive fire breathing monster leads him to a new world.in Sci-Fi & Fantasy
David's Upskirt Theatre Glass stage and stairs allow theatrical upskirt views.in Fetish
More Stories