Ridiculust Ch. 01

Day 1: Chapter 1

When Roger Matheson had announced to his friends on social media that he would be spending July 28 to August 1 on a hiking vacation through some of Ontario's farm country, their reaction was of mild encouragement. You can't go wrong with fresh air and exercise was the general consensus, and being alone isn't such a bad thing in this day in age. With the kids having left home to pursue their lives and with Jeannie having died three and a half years ago, Roger spent a lot of time by himself. Given his generally solitary disposition, he was OK with this, though he had never stopped feeling the loss of Jeannie. Except in his dreams, he mused as he walked on the shoulder of a quiet country road that would deliver him to his destination, a small town called Arbroath, named after the town in Scotland from which Jeannie's paternal grandmother had come.

It was another hot, sticky day, courtesy of a stagnant but unstable air mass that had been squatting over the southern part of the province for more than a week. The first day of his vacation had been largely spent riding the commuter trains and then a bus out as far as it would go, but the two hours he'd spent walking to the nearby next town had convinced him to buy a black and white golf umbrella to use as a parasol, which had made a surprising difference, despite how odd it looked. It had also provided shelter when he got caught more than once by a passing shower.

The so-called Magic Plague that had been sweeping the world in the past six months was not caused by any identifiable microorganism, but had still acquired the title. Most of the strange abilities that people had been developing were of little consequence, such as being able to change their hair colour (but to only a few choices), lights that projected from various parts of the body, creating streams of water out of thin air (very handy for gardeners) and to make various incongruous, often rude, noises. Roger had discovered about a month ago that he was able to approach birds and animals, both domestic and wild, without them running away, and they would even accept some attention. Last night, at the home of Jennifer Jones, who had unexpectedly joined him for dinner at a local restaurant in town and then insisted on taking him home for a drink afterwards, he had discovered a new and quite unusual ability.

After scratching and massaging her dog Peaches into a blissful slumber, they had enjoyed a glass of wine outside on her deck, watching the fireflies and an approaching thunderstorm. She had played "The Lady in Red" on her phone and they had danced, despite his protest that he was sweaty from his long walk, and soon were eating each other up.

"I think there's a little electricity between us," she had murmured, giving the bulge in Roger's shorts a squeeze.

"Given the current (he emphasized slightly) circumstances, I'd say that's an en-lightning observation," he had replied with a smug little smirk. It had taken a couple of moments for her to realize what he'd said.

"You awful man!" she had growled. Something drew their attention skyward just as a bolt of lightning shot across the sky, then exactly above them, forked into three that shot deep into the clouds. They simultaneously felt a jolt like seemed like the little shocks you get from contacting a live wire, but over their whole bodies. Figuring that had been their cue to move inside, they discovered that his cock had been glowing with shifting colours of yellow, forest green, and turquoise. Far from being deterred by this, Jennifer had demanded that they make love on the floor by the sliding door while the storm had raged outside. As he'd come, he'd shot a bolt of energy in the same colours into her, illuminating her abdomen and causing a massive orgasm that had required several minutes for recovery.

Later, in the shower, he had been massaging her neck and shoulders and his fingers had taken on the same glow, with little sparks slipping into her skin where they had been needed most. They had been too tired to carry on in her bed that night, but in the morning, she had discovered glowing 'morning wood', on which she had immediately impaled herself. Little sparks from his fingers that had been gently stroking her soft, C-cup breasts, medium-sized areolas and hard nipples, plus another shot of energy from his orgasm, had left them both flopped on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

After breakfast, which had included lots of coffee, he had filled up the four canteens that were hanging from his large pack, she had made him a couple of sandwiches, which were kept cold with a bag of ice cubes, and he had set off into the already muggy morning with a final kiss. He'd added three raisin bran muffins and another large cup of coffee from a coffee shop in town, and had waited until he was out in the countryside again before opening his umbrella to shade himself from the sun which glowing in a sky that had a brassy colour to it thanks to the haze. The roads were straight and the terrain was gently rolling hills, so once he was on the country road that he'd wanted, little navigation was required.

He made good time, walking at a pace that maximized speed while minimizing effort that he had fallen into on the previous four days. His broad-brimmed beige hat was made of loosely-woven fibers that allowed what breezes there were to blow through to cool his noggin. The countryside was scenic and peaceful, with birds to watch and listen to, including a hawk high above, circling around looking for lunch.

"This would make a great hike in the Spring or Fall, when it isn't so bloody hot," he said to himself at one point, taking one of many swigs from a canteen. He kept an eye on his progress with the mapping app on his phone, and also kept an eye on the weather radar and on the sky, where once again the cumulus clouds were building themselves into towers that drifted slowly across the sky from the west. By 2:00, he had reached the top of a long, gentle slope with tall trees on either side of the road. He was tired, and paused in the shade in front of a pair of black, wrought-iron gates that denied access to a driveway to take yet another drink. Despite having drained two canteens, plus the ice water from Jennifer's impromptu sandwich cooler, he'd only had to pee once due to his sweating.

His attention was drawn to a sudden flurry of frantic motion from the bottom centre of the left gate. What his fatigue-dulled brain had interpreted as a scrap of red fabric was, in fact, a young fox that had somehow gotten its head stuck between two vertical posts, a horizontal crossbar about six inches from the ground, and the hot asphalt of the driveway. He quickly walked over to the struggling animal and knelt next to it, careful to not let the heavy backpack unbalance him.

"Calm down, calm down, you silly bugger," he said in a soothing voice, and it stopped struggling. "How on Earth did you manage to do this to yourself? Hold still." He managed to push its ears through the hole and it jumped back and shook its head. "Would you like a drink?" He offered the canteen to the fox, which considered it, then allowed him to carefully pour water into its mouth. After a minute, the fox had had enough, licked its chops, gave his hand a bump with its nose, then vanished into the undergrowth that partially concealed the brick wall to which the left gate was attached.

"Can I help you?" asked a disembodied, female voice. Roger jumped and nearly fell over, grabbing the gate to steady himself. On the top of the right gatepost was an inconspicuous security camera, aimed at him.

"Uhh, how much farther to Arbroath?" he asked in his pleasing baritone voice.

"Only a couple of kilometers," replied the voice. "You should be able to get there before the storm hits." Taken by surprise, he pulled out his phone, refreshed the weather radar, and zoomed in on his approximate location. A line of storms was an angry slash of orange and red and it was definitely going to pass through in about half an hour.

"Bollocks! OK, thank you for the info. Sorry to have disturbed you." He turned away and began walking as quickly as he could manage. The brick wall, occasionally visible through holes in the foliage, ended at a corner about thirty paces from the gate and continued away through the forest. "Must be some big shot's country retreat," he muttered as he continued. The road opened up about ten minutes later, revealing well-kept houses set well back, with occasional residents moving around the yards. It also revealed the darkening western sky and it, and the freshening breeze from the west, lent energy to his steps. Five minutes later, he hustled past a friendly "Welcome to Arbroath" sign. After another five minutes, he heard the first grumble of thunder and felt the first cool breeze that smelled of rain.

Another five minutes brought him to what had obviously been a grand old Victorian house. "Julia's Bed & Breakfast" read the carefully hand-painted black letters on a cheery yellow background. "Vacancy" was on a pale blue sign attached by hooks below the main sign. The house had yellow brick walls with white painted gingerbread under the eaves, sky blue shutters, and a pale green painted verandah with an assortment of chairs and a two-seater swing that were about to get very wet. Thunder boomed and a strong gust of wind roared through the trees, bringing with it the first fat drops of rain. Faster than he'd thought possible, he was up the steps and through the door, closing it just as the rain began in earnest.

Roger had entered a large open room with the welcome desk several paces directly in front of him. To his left was a small lounge area in the corner and to his right was the entrance to what appeared to be a restaurant. Behind the desk was a grand wooden staircase whose bottom was behind the desk and which made a quarter turn to a gallery that ran the width of the building and presumably led to the bedrooms and bathrooms. The air was cool and refreshing after the sauna outside and the overall impression was warm and welcoming. Roger liked it immediately.

Of greater interest was a black cat with yellow eyes and a patch of white on its chest that was sitting on the polished wood floor directly between him and the counter. It meowed a greeting, which was barely audible over a loud boom of thunder and the sound of high-velocity water hitting the front door. This struck him as rather odd, because all of the cats that he'd known had never been fans of thunderstorms. The cat then began rubbing against his legs and meowing, demanding attention, which he was only too glad to provide, though he had to be careful bending over to avoid losing his balance because of the umbrella in his left hand and the heavy pack on his back. After a minute, the cat abruptly disengaged and trotted towards the desk, stopping halfway and turning, as if to invite him in.

When he followed, the cat jumped gracefully onto the desk and sat on its front left corner, watching him as he approached. Standing behind the desk were a tall, middle-aged woman with shoulder-length salt-and-pepper hair and a younger, slightly shorter woman with blonde hair styled in an attractive pixie cut. Both were wearing yellow blouses with "Julia's Bed and Breakfast" monogrammed on the breast pockets, and dark blue slacks. They had clearly been in conversation when he'd come in, and he thought that he'd seen concerned expressions on their faces before they changed to friendly smiles of greeting.

"Good ..." Roger had to pause while a boom of thunder passed, "Good afternoon. Is there still a vacancy?" he inquired as he petted the cat, who was wanting even more attention.

"We have one room left," replied the older woman, whose name plate said "Julia", as she sat behind the large antique wooden desk, which was adorned by a Tiffany lamp as well as the cat, and activated the computer. "It's not very large, though, and on the top floor, but has its own ensuite bathroom to make up for it."

"So long as I and my bag can fit in, I'll be fine with it. I could definitely use the bathroom," he added, tugging at the now clammy, sweat-soaked T-shirt he was wearing. "Though I could get as effective a cleaning by standing on your front porch and letting the rain do it." The other two smiled in acknowledgement and he could see a family resemblance between them. "How much?" She named the price and he pulled a well-used wallet from his right rear pocket and extracted an equally well-used bank debit card from it. "Is there a place in town where I can do my laundry?" he asked as she offered him a wireless pay machine. He then pretended that the card was resisting its use, darting it here and there and squeaking "No! No! Not again!" in a bad falsetto, before finally tapping it on the machine, earning a giggle from the younger woman, whose name plate identified her as Emma.

"There's a laundry downstairs for our guests," Emma replied. Her hazel eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses eyed him speculatively, seeing an obviously tired, middle-aged man just over six feet tall wearing a large, camouflage-patterned backpack with well-padded shoulder straps and belly band, who was now carefully rubbing the cat's belly and getting ecstatic purrs. His eyes were also hazel and behind wire-rimmed glasses. "You've really made an impression on Minnie," she said as he paused the petting to put away his bank card and wallet. "Usually she ignores the guests."

"I've always been good with animals," he replied as Julia opened a drawer and extracted a room key. "Even more so since the Magic Plague started."

"All that I got was a finger light," Julia replied, extending the middle finger on her right hand in the classic rude gesture, causing a bright yellow light to project from it. "It can be very handy to have in this profession. I'll take you to your room. When you're ready, bring down the stuff you need to put in the laundry and we'll get that going for you."

"Thank you very much," he replied warmly. As they climbed the stairs, he noted that they had a non-slip covering glued to the wood and were illuminated by small LED lights that were attached under the nicely-carved wood railing. Despite their combined weights, the stairs didn't even squeak. They turned left at the top of the stairs and walked a few paces down the wood floored hallway to a narrow staircase that was on the outside wall.

"Welcome to our penthouse suite," said Julia with only a trace of irony in her smile, giving Roger the key. "Come down when you're ready and we'll get things set for you." He smiled and nodded.

"Definitely will do. I only have one clean outfit left." Still wearing the pack, he slowly ascended the stairs, and Julia figured that she wouldn't be seeing him for a while. The light switch was to the right of the door, and when he flipped it on, the belt of LED lights around the top of the walls revealed a room that was about 20 by 15 feet. A large maple dresser was below the switch, which had a dimmer slider underneath that Roger employed to make it less bright. The bed was halfway to the door to the bathroom and was a standard queen size with two plump pillows cased in pale yellow sitting on a duvet of dark green. Matching nightstands were on either side of it. The room was stiflingly hot, so the next thing he did was drop the pack on the floor with a thump and go to the heating/cooling unit under the window on the right wall and turn it on to maximum cool. The worst of the storm had passed, but it was still raining. The bathroom door, painted a pleasing shade of turquoise, was ajar and he entered it with a sigh of relief.

Twenty minutes later, he was clean, refreshed, and dressed in mismatched beige shorts, blue T-shirt and white socks, his last clean clothes. The air conditioner had done its job well, so he turned it down to a medium setting, looked out the window and saw that it was still raining lightly. "Maybe the rain will have let up by the time I get the laundry started," he said to himself. Overcoming the pull of fatigue, he sat on the middle of the right side of the bed, removed a laptop computer with power cord, toiletries, a first aid kit, a multi-tool, a pair of sneakers, and two books, unhooked the canteens, and made sure that all of the clothes were in it. He sat up groggily, enchanted by the gentle hum of the air conditioner, then found himself pivoting to lie on it. "Just for a moment," he murmured as his brain switched off abruptly.

He was aware that he was dreaming. He was standing in a park, surrounded by a circle of large trees, and Jeannie was there with him, wearing a white sundress, her bright blue eyes shining, her past shoulder-length brown hair shifting a bit in the breeze, and her megawatt smile melting his heart, like it always had when she had been alive. He looked around in wonder.

"I've been here before," he said, looking at her again.

"You have been, and you will be," she replied mysteriously.

"Why did I walk five days in wretchedly hot weather, just because you wanted me to?"

"To get here," she said, walking towards him with a very familiar sway to her hips.

"But why walk? I could have driven here!" he protested.

"But you wouldn't have been ready," she replied, standing right in front of him. "Now you are. Wake up, and start the real adventure."

"Hey, who's that?" he asked, spotting a blonde woman, also in a white dress, in the distance behind Jeannie. She didn't answer, reaching out and booping his nose with a finger instead.

"Huh? What?" he asked, sitting up and looking around anxiously. The clock on the bedside table said quarter past four, which meant he'd been asleep for about an hour. "I wouldn't have been ready for what?" he muttered as he stood up, stretched with a popping of joints, put on the sneakers and picked up his backpack. The sun was shining blearily through haze and cloud, indicating that the humidity hadn't let up. The weather forecast was calling for a long-awaited cold front to sweep through the province tonight and promising a wonderful day tomorrow, to which he was looking forward. As he left the room and closed the door, after turning the air conditioner down to low speed, he wondered just how he was going to get home. Maybe he could get a lift from someone on a ride-sharing app on his phone, he mused as he descended the stairs, walked down the short hallway, and descended the grand staircase. There were some sounds coming from the restaurant, but he was focused on Emma and Julia, who were behind the desk, whispering to each other. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but their expressions were worried and upset. He deliberately coughed as he neared the bottom, causing them to jump.

"Hi," he said as he moved to the front of the desk. "My body demanded a nap, so here I am, ready to convert this reeking pack of clothes into things fit to wear again."

"I'll take you to the laundry room," Emma volunteered. "I'll be back in a bit, Mom," she said to Julia. Halfway between the desk and the restaurant's entrance was a passageway that led to the back of the building and was lit by a domed light fixture at each end.

"It's been in the family for a few generations," she replied to his expression of curiosity, descending the stairs with him following. "We got a surprise inheritance from my grandparents, which we used to bring it up to code and convert it into a B and B. We don't need even half of the space in this place and it helps cover the costs." As they descended the stairs, the noises of the main floor were left behind, but instead of silence they started to hear what sounded like grunting and muttering.

"What is making that noise?" Roger asked, looking confused. Emma looked apprehensive as they reached the bottom of the stairs. A few paces in front of them was a door that opened inwards. They walked through the doorway into the laundry room. It was large enough to hold three front-loading washers on the right and three dryers on the left, with a sink in the near corner on the right and a doorway leading into a small bathroom in the near corner on the left. A long white table ran down the middle of the room, separating the machines, and on it was the source of the noises. A woman with black hair, liberally streaked with gray, wearing a red party dress and red stiletto heels, was lying on her back plunging a pink translucent dildo in and out of her pussy as hard as she could.