The Spirit of Christmas      part I     

by willie

It all started so innocently for Frank. At least he thought it did. It was

something his loving wife had volunteered him for. Actually it was a no-brainer.

Frank owned his own small moving company. He owned all sizes of moving vans.

When the people running the "Gifts for the poor children" needed the garage-full

of toys, books, and clothes moved to the church cafeteria, they immediately

thought of Frank.

Frank really didn't feel like wasting a Saturday morning moving gifts for

so-called under-privileged kids. Frank had grown up poor. He knew these kids had

more things than he had growing up. He whined to Linda when she told him she'd

offered his services. "Tell me that church couldn't afford to rent a van or pay

someone willing to move the gifts. Heck, they could buy a van with the money you

give alone."

"Don't be so selfish," Linda said sternly. "It's a good cause. Besides,

Kim Jackson is running it."

Now that was a different story. Frank instantly had incentive. He still

acted like it was killing him but he agreed. "I'll do it for the spirit of

Christmas," Frank said mockingly. He never imagined those well spoken words

would come back to haunt him.

Kim Jackson wasn't just an active member of the church. She practically

was the church. After her newlywed husband was killed in a car accident five

years ago, she turned toward the church and never looked away. It seemed like

every event or charity the church did, she was the one in charge. Kim was also a

Eucharistic minister. That meant she walked into church with the priest and gave

out Holy Communion.

Kim did the eight thirty mass in the chapel every week, and Frank made

sure that if Linda was going to drag him to mass, she was dragging him to the

eight-thirty. It was no different Sunday the thirteenth of December, six days

before Frank's services were required. Linda wanted to sleep in and go to a

later mass but Frank would hear none of it.

"Let's go Linda," Frank said shaking the bed. "I have a ton of things to

do today. If we don't go now, you're going alone." Actually, Frank's plans for

the day included lying on the sofa and watching football but he persisted until

Linda called him an asshole and rolled out of bed.

Frank dreamt of what Kim would be wearing the whole way to church. She

usually wore tight fitting slacks that attenuated her voluptuous bottom. Frank

figured this morning would be no different. Frank liked women's butts. No, he

loved women's butts. His goal in life was to die under a woman's butt. Out of

all the women Frank ever met, Kim Jackson owned the finest derriere Frank ever

laid his perverted eyes on.

 Kim's bottom wasn't small. Frank hated small skinny bottoms that had

no

meat to them. Kim's bottom wasn't even medium sized like Linda's. Frank loved

Linda's bottom. She had a soft round full bottom that Frank loved to bury his

face in. His dream was to have Linda sit on his face and smother him between her

cheeks until his body quivered for air. Linda wanted no parts of Frank's fetish.

"That's disgusting," she snorted each time Frank mentioned it. Linda just

couldn't get passed the butt hole thing.

Kim Jackson's bottom wasn't just big. It was perfect. Round and full,

every pound of its eminence was in the right spot. Frank always considered his

wife's bottom to be built like the perfect pumpkin, the one he had searched for

every Halloween, but never quite finding. He had been close. Frank had picked

some awesome pumpkins growing up, but he never found the perfect one. That was

until he met Linda. Then Kim Jackson entered the picture. Kim's bottom wasn't

the perfect pumpkin. Each cheek was. Her ass consisted of two equally perfect

pumpkins joined at the hip like Siamese twins.

Frank wasn't disappointed when the procession entered the church. Sure

enough, Kim Jackson was in line. Frank had steered Linda to the left of the

church. Kim's place in line told Frank she would serve communion to his side of

the church. Kim had on what Frank figured she'd be wearing. Her tight slacks

held her swaying meat in check like the steel fence at the zoo holds the

ferocious lions at bay. Frank's spellbound stare at Kim's melodic ass was broken

by pain, rib pain caused by Linda's jealous elbow.

Frank sat through a long liturgy and an even longer homily. Finally, even

the priest got tired of hearing his own half-asleep voice and sat down. Ten

minutes later, Frank was in line to receive communion from none other than the

magnificent but equally holy Kim Jackson. Frank felt the refracted rays of

morning sunlight entering through the old stained glass windows burn the side of

his face as Kim offered "the body of Christ" to him.

"Amen," Frank answered as he took the host in his mouth. Frank didn't

normally let anyone put something directly into his mouth. Kim was different. He

gladly let her drop the thin wafer onto his tongue. Kim's fingers seemed to

linger in his mouth forever. Frank fought the urge to close his lips around her

forefinger and feel its holiness. He looked into her eyes and saw the fire Moses

saw on the mountain. Frank looked at her lips and witnessed a grimace of power,

a control she seemed to have over him.

A second later the moment was gone. Frank turned and followed his beloved

back to the pew. His gaze now focused onto her swinging perfection. The burning

in his throat when he swallowed the tainted host didn't surprise him. Frank knew

he was going to hell for sure.

After mass, Frank took Linda to breakfast at the diner. Linda liked to

dine out. She loved to fill her belly in the morning. Linda's favorite food was

scrapple, one of the food items Frank could not stomach. Linda didn't like the

sight or smell of it raw, so she always ordered it when they ate breakfast out.

"I have to go food shopping," Linda said to Frank between bites of scrapple and

omelet. She had a smidgeon of butter on the side of her lips. "And I don't have

all my Christmas shopping done."  That news made Frank's day. Not only

could he

watch football in peace, he could pretend he actually did some work around the

house.

The loving couple finished their breakfast. Frank paid the bill and held

the door for his wife. Linda's mind was concentrating on what she needed to buy.

Frank's mind was still fixating on Kim's bottom. "Thanks for breakfast," Linda

said warmly to Frank. Frank thought he heard potential lovemaking in her tone

but knew otherwise. It was the satisfaction of the pork talking. Frank knew it

would take more than a little scrapple to loosen his frigid Catholic wife.

The good news was that Linda spent all afternoon shopping, out of Frank's

hair. The bad news was the Redskins lost to the Eagles. Frank hated the Eagles

but it really didn't matter. This wasn't the skins year. There's always next

year. Still, the game left Frank in a bad humor. Later that night, when Frank

sat in bed with Linda watching the pathetic TV shows she liked, Frank's mood

hadn't changed.

Long before the phone rang it was obvious the ice queen wasn't cracking

tonight, which deepened Frank's despair. "Hi Colleen," Linda answered

enthusiastically. Frank was glad something turned his wife on. He was sure she

should have been a lesbian had she not been so religious. After who remembers

how many years of marriage, Frank didn't know why she wasn't a nun along with

Kim Jackson.

Frank listened while Linda explained the game plan to her friend. "It's

simple. We sort the gifts at Kim's house, load them onto Frank's van, and that's

it." Linda was trying to recruit her friend's help. "Then you can leave."

"I'll help you," Colleen conceded. "But I still don't know why you need my

help."

"Because I'm flying to my parent's house in Boston for Christmas as soon

as we get finished," Linda answered. "I want to be there before it gets dark so

I'm taking an early flight."

"What about Frank."

"Frank claims he has to work next week." Linda sent an arrow of smirk in

his direction. "He's driving up on Christmas Eve or maybe the twenty-third."

"I'm working Wednesday," Frank said. "I'm working Thursday morning too.

I'll be up Thursday night." Linda ignored him. Frank whispered under his breath.

"That's if I come up at all."

"Does he mind helping with the gifts?" Colleen asked.

"He acts like its killing him but I know he doesn't mind. He likes Kim."

Linda sent another quick arrow in Frank's direction. "Actually he likes her fat

ass."

"Jesus," Frank exclaimed to Linda as he almost fell out of bed. He felt

anger coming to a head. "You just don't say shit like that. It always causes

trouble."

"Oh relax dear. Colleen knows I'm only kidding."

Frank jumped out of bed. "I hate when you get on that God-damned

telephone." Linda ignored him and changed the subject with Colleen. The

conversation had the potential for lasting a while.

Frank liked to get to bed early on Sunday nights. He liked to get the

workweek off to a good clean start. He seldom had a drink on Sunday nights.

Tonight was different. Frank grabbed a glass from the kitchen, filled it with

ice and headed into his den where he poured himself a bourbon. He put the bottle

back on the top of his bar and took a sip of his nightcap. The feel of the cold

liquor burning its way down his throat reminded him of the burning he felt after

swallowing the host at mass. He heard Linda laughing at something stupid on the

phone. "Screw it," Frank said out loud as he reached for the bottle of bourbon

again. This time he filled his glass to the top before returning the bottle to

its place next to the Seagram's Seven. Frank spent that night on the sofa. He

had finished his drink while watching the Sunday night football game. The first

drink had gone down too quickly so Frank foolishly refilled his glass and

finished it before passing out on the sofa.

Frank's bladder woke him up Monday morning thirty minutes after his alarm

would have. Frank couldn't remember why he got drunk and slept on the sofa. He

figured the ice queen had probably shotten him down again. Frank wandered why he

had even tried. He had no recollection of Linda's phone conversation with

Colleen. He had no idea that Linda's comment about Frank liking Kim's ass had

started the ugly rumor mill spinning.

Frank was usually the first one at the shop. His routine was to unlock the

gate and the office door. Then he'd brew a pot of coffee and enjoy his morning

caffeine alone while he paged through the day's docket. Because he was late,

Frank had to stop at a convenience store for a large cup of mountain blend. He

didn't get his chance to gather his thoughts. He had a rough week ahead of him.

Frank had taken on extra work this week to free up next week. He planned on

giving his men a paid week off. He also planned on taking a week of vacation

himself, a vacation alone, with his wife in Boston, thinking he was hard at

work. Although Frank longed for next Friday night to arrive, he knew it was time

to buckle down. If he was going to make it through this tiresome week, he had to

first make it through the day.

Yes it was a rough week, but Friday afternoon had finally arrived. After

he paid his men, Frank locked the gate. He'd be back again tomorrow to fire up

his sixteen-foot cube van to take to Kim Jackson's house. After that it was

going to be a week of peace and quiet.

That night, Frank crawled into bed with his lovely wife who was leaving

for Boston the following day. She wouldn't be seeing him for at least five days;

although Frank wasn't totally sure he was making a seven-hour drive to be with

his nasty Irish in-laws. Linda didn't need to know that yet. He was doing

charity work tomorrow, making Linda look good. They hadn't had sex in weeks. The

facts all added up in Frank's favor. He figured sex tonight was a no-brainer. He

had no idea his wife's little bloody friend would throw the old presidential

VETO into his plans.

Frank gave it all he was worth but Linda's period won out. There would be

no fun tonight for Frank. Frank was disappointed. There were other ways Linda

could please him but she simply wanted no parts of Frank at all. He did get a

promise that they'd make love in Boston. Although doing it under her parents'

roof may have been a turn-on for Linda, it made Frank's balls want to suck back

up into his scrotum. The final straw snapped when the phone rang and Linda's

miserable personality lightened into a laughing joviality without a care in the

world. It was Colleen again. Although Frank liked Colleen, she did at times

prove to be a pain in the ass. Frank ended up on the sofa again with a big glass

full of his new best friend, Jim Beam.

Frank woke up Saturday morning to darkness. Something inside his mind told

him it was time to get up, or maybe it was his full bladder again. He sat up on

the sofa and his dizziness reminded him he'd passed out drunk on the sofa again.

His hard-on reminded him about Linda's period. He looked at his watch. He had to

figure out which button illuminated the stupid thing and his clumsy fingers

weren't helping. Finally he read six-fifteen. It was kind of early but Frank

stood up anyway. He had about enough of the sofa.

Frank trudged up the stairs and emptied his bladder. He liked to count off

the seconds when he pissed. His record was seventy-three seconds, a monstrous

feet he guessed he'd never overtake. This morning he fell twelve seconds short.

As he dressed, Frank thought about making coffee at home and waking his wife. It

didn't take much thinking to decide against it. Frank would make his morning

coffee at the shop office and chill until it was time to head to Kim Jackson's

house.

At nine o'clock sharp Frank backed his van into Kim's driveway with the

skill he alone possessed. His wife had parked her Subaru so close to the

driveway entrance that it took precision not to hit it. Again she wasn't

thinking of him. Frank climbed out of the cab and walked to the rear of the van.

It was warming up nicely for a mid-December day. The cold crispness the pre-dawn

air held had been sliced clean away by the unseasonably warm winter sun.

Frank pulled open the door and sat on the cold bumper. The sun hadn't yet

worked it's magic on it. So far, he wasn't having much fun. The garage door of

Kim's house was open. At the far end of the garage was a door that led into the

house. After about five minutes, Linda emerged onto the scene through that door.

She carried a large clear trash bag full of wrapped presents. She dropped them

into the garage and continued her quick gate up to Frank.

"I'm sorry," Linda said to Frank as she gave him a peck on his lips. Frank

knew she meant about being the ice queen. "You know I love you." Frank only

sighed. Linda didn't stay on the subject long. Frank wasn't surprised.

"Colleen's not here yet and Kim is so unorganized. I'll be lucky to make my

flight." Frank rolled his eyes. "Don't load anything yet, OK dear." Linda

scampered back into the house. Frank thought his wife looked good this morning;

especially from the back. He felt a bluishness overtaking his backed-up

testicles.

Ten minutes later, Frank was back in the cab. He was contemplating driving

off somewhere to relieve himself and coming back an hour later when Colleen's

jeep sped into the driveway and stopped inches away from his front bumper. The

door flew open and like Santa Claus coming out of the chimney, out popped

Colleen.

Frank stepped out of the cab and his jaw dropped. "How much trouble am I

in?" Colleen asked him. She didn't wait for an answer before running into the

house. That was a good thing for Frank because he wasn't able to formulate an

answer. He was too busy gawking. Colleen looked phenomenal. She had obviously

spent half the time she was late primping herself. The other half she

undoubtedly spent painting on her blue jeans.

Colleen was mid-twenties and very attractive. She dated often but never

seemed to let any man get too close to her. She felt that down deep they all

wanted the same thing; to get into her pants. Colleen wasn't thin. She wasn't

exactly fat either. She was just a tad bit plump but Frank thought she held her

baggage perfectly. Frank was given enough opportunity to decide. Colleen wore

baggy clothes in public, but she never seemed to mind showing her wares off to

Frank. Frank felt that when it came to him, she was a down right tease. She knew

Frank was safe, so she took out her sexual aggressions on him.

Colleen did little tricks to get Frank's attention when she was at their

house. She'd leave the powder room door open while she was peeing to entice

Frank into peeking in. She spent many a Sunday afternoon in the summer time

sunbathing with Linda at their house. She'd undo her bikini string to entice

Frank. A few times, Colleen overdid her self. She owned a pink thong bikini that

she had the audacity to donn on Frank's patio. When she wore the thong, she had

Frank's full attention. Colleen had a fantastic body in Frank's eyes, but what

Frank liked most about her body was the same thing he liked most about most

women's bodies.

As Colleen scurried away, Frank watched her over-sized bottom try to break

free of her undersized pants. Frank felt a rush of blood to his head. He felt

like he was going to faint. He knew Colleen had a great bottom, but he had never

seen it so confined. Frank imagined being tiny and trapped inside Colleen's

jeans against one of her ass cheeks. He'd be pressed so tightly into her

wonderful flab that he'd become lost in it; stranded in his own land over the

rainbow, a heaven where there were no work headaches or frigid wives to deal

with.

Frank was on his way back to the rear of his van to climb inside and close

the door. There was no need to drive to a parking lot to relieve the pressure.

He only needed a minute or two. Surely Linda could offer him that. Frank was at

his rear bumper when he heard talking come from the garage. It was Linda talking

to Kim. They each had a bag of gifts in each hand. The woman lingered in the

garage for a few seconds, ignoring Frank's existence. They dropping the bags in

different piles before returning inside. What Frank saw those few seconds would

last all morning and then some.

Sometimes a person hears a tune that they just can't get out of their

head. Sometimes one sees a view in nature, like the peaks of Surmount or Niagra

Falls, that stays in his mind for weeks. Or sometimes one sees THE finest ass

that ever existed in a pair of tight spandex stretch pants. It took all the

self-control Frank could muster not to stain his underwear right then and there.

Had Frank moved the moment his wife and the angel of the lord left his

sight, he may have had time to do what he had headed toward the rear of his van

to do but he lingered too long unable to move. His train of thought, what little

he had left this mild December morning, had moved from a spot against Colleen's

left cheek to the tight confines of the area between both Kim's fantastically

large pumpkins. The idea of being battered from front and back and side to side

by slabs of beautifully moving ass meat was making it difficult for Frank to

even stay on his feet let alone climb into the back of his van. Frank had to sit

on his cold bumper again to regain his composure. He was almost able to stand

when both Colleen and Kim came out of the house with bags.

Kim dropped her bags in one of the piles in the garage and quickly

returned to the house. Colleen took her two bags directly to Frank. "Keep these

together," she said as she handed them to Frank. The bags were labeled #121-1 of

2 and 2 of 2. Frank got the picture. He did this for a living. Colleen turned

and headed away. Frank's mind was back inside her jeans.

Five minutes later, Frank knew Linda had taken control. She was inside

organizing the bags while Kim and Colleen tantalizingly carried the bags outside

to the garage or to Frank. Frank kept one eye on the tags, making sure the right

bags were together. He kept the other eye on two of the three best backsides he

knew. Frank figured that Linda would stay inside and the other two woman

would spend the morning carrying the bags outside.

It was a tough morning for Frank. He was being teased to oblivion.

Fortunately there were enough bags of gifts to keep him occupied. Frank would

wait until he got home. He had no choice. He knew that with the visions and

scenarios he was storing into memory, it would be extremely self-gratifying.

Three hours later Linda carried the last bag out herself and handed it to

Frank. It was number 211 - 1 of 1. "That's it," she said triumphantly. Frank

squeezed it into his over-full moving van. Linda said to Kim, "I have to go or

I'll miss my flight."

"Thanks for your help." Kim said sincerely. "Go."

Linda thanked Colleen then gave her tired husband a kiss on the lips.

"I'll see you in a couple of days. Try not to be late." Everything Linda said to

Frank

seemed to offend him lately. Frank sucked it up. He wanted to get on with the

day. He had an appointment with his right hand.

"Be careful," he offered. He could tell Linda wanted more. So had he, last

night. He walked her to her car taking one final look at her bottom before it

descended onto the car seat. It looked good with the extra water weight. Frank

shut the door and offered his farewell. Linda countered and with an annoying

beep-beep, she sped off. Frank about-faced and saw Kim and Colleen staring at

him with huge grins on their faces.

"Isn't he just the perfect husband," Kim asked?

"And cute too," Colleen added. Frank felt a burning of embarrassment

coloring his cheeks. He was surprised his raging hard-on left any spare blood to

go to his face.

Frank shook his head in a sigh. "Now what?" he asked.

"Go to the back door of the cafeteria," Kim explained. Frank listened

intently, watching the words flow off Kim's tongue like the gospel. Kim didn't

speak to Frank often. "There will be three older boys there to unload the bags.

Now I don't want you helping them Frank. You've done enough."

"I hate to interrupt," Colleen said boldly. She made a habit of it. "I

have to go too."

"That's fine," answered Kim. "God bless you for your help."

"You will tell me what happens, won't you?" Colleen asked throwing a quick

glance in Frank's direction. Frank had no clue in what Colleen was talking

about. He also had no care.

"Don't worry," Kim replied with a big grim.

"Bye Frank. See you soon," Colleen said as she hopped into her jeep. Again

Frank watched a great bottom  land on a car seat. Lucky car seat he thought

to

himself.

"Bye," Frank said in return coldly. Colleen stuck her hand out of the

window and offered a wave as she sped off. Frank turned back to Kim. He all at

once felt kind of nervous being alone with the high and mighty one he'd been

gawking at all morning. "Well I guess I'm off," he said with an uncharacteristic

stutter. He was fantasizing about Kim asking him in to her house, throwing him

to the floor and plopping her ass on his face when Kim spoke and brought him

back to the real world.

"You must be parched," Kim said in a concerned voice. "Would you like

something to drink?"

Here we go, Frank thought. She was getting ready to invite him in. "Sure,

Frank answered."

"How about a coke?"

"That would be great."

"OK then, a coke it is." Kim turned and headed through the garage. Frank

followed with his gaze on Kim's swaying slabs of ass meat. It was obvious that

Kim wore no panties under her spandex sweats. Frank was able to make out just

about every nook and cranny on Kim's ass. He pictured his own tiny body in

there; his face fitting perfectly inside a one of the many small fat craters.

Kim reached the doorway and stopped. Frank tore his eyes away from her

bottom and looked at what he expected to see, the back of Kim's head. Instead he

saw her eyes. She was looking over her shoulder at him. By the disgusted look on

her face, Frank knew he had just gotten snagged. The burning in his cheeks

returned rapidly as did his embarrassment. He had blown any chance of being

invited back in.

Kim's wrinkled brow softened as she said," I'll be right back." She

stepped through the door without removing her eyes from Frank's and disappeared

around the corner. Frank shook his head in despair and headed out of the garage.

He felt foolish but he'd get over it. As soon as he got home he'd get over it

for sure. Frank was thinking about what he'd do the rest of the afternoon after

he took care of business when Kim returned. She offered him an already opened

can of coke and thanked him again. Frank didn't linger. He did not want to risk

further embarrassment. They said their goodbuys and Frank drove off.

Kim lived ten minutes from the church but it seemed to take twice that

long to get there. Frank never knew the van's seat was so uncomfortable, but

then again, never had his balls ever been this close to erupting. As he sipped

the coke he felt a burning in his throat. At first he thought maybe a sore

throat was on the way. The last thing Frank needed before a week off was a sore

throat. The more Frank drank, the more his throat burned. Something wasn't

right. Then it hit him. It was the same sensation he got when he received

communion from Kim. It was God punishing him for his evil thoughts. "Fuck it,"

Frank said out loud. "So I go to hell with a sore throat." He then downed the

rest of his drink.

Finally Frank reached the church. With his help, the two teen-agers , not

three, had the van empty in minutes. Frank thanked the boys and headed back to

the shop. In about thirty minutes, after he dropped off the van and locked the

gate, his week of peace and quiet would begin; or so Frank thought.

The Spirit of Christmas part II by willie

Frank was having a dream, a nightmare of sorts. It didn't start scary. In

fact, it began quite intriguing. Frank was in a store at the mall. It was a

woman's shoe store. A variety of multi-colored pumps and mules littered the

floor. Open-toed clogs and sandals were everywhere. There were high heels, low

heels. There were shoes with no heel at all. The interesting part was every shoe

in the place was bigger than Frank.

Frank had been going to sleep for years in the hopes of having a dream in

which he was tiny. It seems it finally happened. Seeing Kim Jackson's ass inside

her ultra-tight spandex sweats must have sparked something in his subconscious

mind. Although the love of women's shoes or the feet that went into them was

never Frank's thing, he would gladly take whatever he could get.

Dreaming Frank could not believe his slumbering eyes as he looked at the

jumbled assortment of shiny leather. The colors he was seeing were bright and

vivid. Every delicate detail of every shoe was apparent. It was like his eyes

had turned to magnifying glasses. He saw variations of colors he never saw in

the drab world of the awake. Frank saw ultra-violets and instantly knew what

drew a hummingbird to a petunia.

Frank looked inside a shoe that was lying on its side at the far end of

the store. The shoe looked like it was only five feet away. Inside the dark

cavern, he saw an infrared shape take form. It was the fuzzy shape of a person.

Frank did a double take and looked harder. The glowing red form slowly took on

more natural colors. Frank made out the red shirt the inhabitant of the shoe

wore. No, it was orange. He was able to make out the yellowish-brown hue of the

skin, then the green logo on the orange shirt.

Frank looked harder. He saw the indigo blue of the tiny person's jeans.

Frank knew he'd see purple had the stranger in his dream had any on. Then Frank

heard a distant scream, like the far off cry of a hungry wolf. Then came a thud.

Then came another. The distant scream meant to be heard but the steady beat of

thuds drowned it out. Frank magnified his gaze once more and saw white. The man

in the mule had his mouth open. He was screaming. The thuds, getting closer and

closer were muffling his terror.

Frank caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He quickly zoomed out

four times and saw the cause of the thuds. Feet, female feet, were descending

upon the mule. The feet were attached to legs but when Frank tried to follow

them upward, he couldn't see past the knees. The brilliant glow of the store's

fluorescents blinded him momentarily. He looked back down at the shoe just in

time to see the giant female foot upright the shoe and insert itself. Frank heard the

muffled scream of pain shoot across the store as the inhabitant was pulverized.

It entered his ears, shot through his brain, and moved its way down his spinal chord all

the way to his bowels where it found a corner of shit to hide in until the terror passed.

Frank heard another scream, not far from the first. He shot his attention

in that direction. It was another orange shirt with a green logo. It covered

another tiny man in another shoe, this one a white sneaker. Thud after thud

followed. Frank saw a giant foot quickly come into view and overtake the

sneaker. Another crushing scream entered his bowels. The thuds continued. The

screams continued. The number of souls in his large intestine grew. Every shoe

in the store was on its side. Every shoe in the store housed a tiny man, a tiny

man with the same orange shirt with green logo. And every shoe was being

attacked by a giant female foot.

The female foot that was trying on the shoes and killing tiny person

after tiny person in the process, was a female foot Frank had seen before. Hell,

he downright knew it. The fat big toe, the super-long second toe, the short wide

pinky toe belonged to the same foot Frank saw almost daily.

Frank looked up. There had been dozens of shoes lying on the floor. There

were dozens of giant woman thunder storming their way across the store to try on

their pair of shoes. Below, there were dozens of tiny men disappearing under

women's soles. Frank had refocused a hundred times closer to home. He was

finally able to see all the way to the dropped cork ceiling. All the women

looked the same. They all had blond hair with short bangs flirting with shiny

blue eyes. They all had a small cute nose with a wide full-lipped smile. Every

one of the women in the store was Frank's beloved.

As things quieted down, Dreaming Frank thought to himself that it couldn't

be Linda. She had a closetful of shoes. The last place she should be was in a

shoe store. Then he remembered he was dreaming. Anything is possible in

dreamland. Then Frank's attention switched. Why were things quieting down? He

looked around the room. The floor was empty. There were no more women's shoes

littering the floor. There were no more tiny hiding men sporting orange T-shirts.

And above all else, there were no more giant Lindas squashing them with

her size nines and sending their dying screams through Frank.

All at once there was quiet in the store. Dreaming Frank drew a tentative

sigh. Was he safe? Was he the only person with an orange shirt with green logo

not hiding in a shoe? He was. Everyone else was gone. The dead people in him

were gone too. He had absorbed them because every one of them was Frank himself.

The room was empty. The room was quiet. It was over. Dreaming Frank was safe.

Although feet weren't his thing, Subconscious Frank was happy. Finally he had

been thoroughly entertained by a dream. Much to his surprise, Frank's dream

wasn't over.

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

After Frank had dropped off the gifts at the church, he drove the van back

to the yard. He hesitated as he locked the gate. His growing fleet of orange

moving vans was his pride and joy. The orange T-shirts with the green logo his

drivers wore complimented his trucks. He thought of his week home alone, no

troublesome work, no nagging wife. Finally, Frank was getting himself some well-

earned vacation.

On his way home, Frank began to feel dizzy. After he parked his Mustang in

the driveway and unlocked the door to his empty house, he made himself a

sandwich and drank a glass of ice-tea. He guessed hunger was the cause of his

dizziness, but half an hour later Frank felt no better. It was time for a nap.

As Frank kicked off his shoes, he noticed they slipped off rather easily. Frank

was too light-headed to care. He stripped off his clothes all the way down to

his tighty whities and lied down on the sofa. Before he could cover himself with

the blanket Linda always had hanging over the back of the sofa, Frank dozed off.

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

Dreaming Frank stuck his head out of his hiding place to get a better look

at his surroundings. He was no longer in the store at the mall. The floor had

changed from hard linoleum to soft carpet. Frank looked up and saw a ceiling fan

he recognized. He looked across the room and saw his wife's dresser. Frank was

hiding in the center of his own bedroom. In what he was hiding, he didn't know.

Warm western sunlight was flowing through the window behind Frank. He saw

its brilliance enhance the blues and greens of the carpet. He looked at the

shadowed area directly in front of him. The carpet there seemed drab and dead.

As he sat waiting for the next chapter of his dream to unfold, he gazed from

shadowed area to sunny area, from death to life.

A thought entered Frank's mind. The shadow he was looking at was the

shadow of his hiding place. He slowly traced the outline on the carpeted floor.

It looked kind of like Italy. Frank felt his heartbeat. It had just taken an

upward turn. The shadow was the shape of a boot. It looked from his distorted

vantage point to be a women's dress boot, just like the pair on Linda's side of

their walk-in closet. Frank had to get out of there quickly. With the

remembrance of the first part of his dream, Frank looked up and readied himself

for a mad dash to the dresser. What he saw next made him halt in his tracks.

Another shadow caught his eye. This shadow was huge, and it was moving.

The shadow grew as it approached. Frank could make out the shape of a head and

arms. By the thinness of the waist and the roundness of the hips, Frank knew a

giant woman was in the room and she was approaching fast.

Frank didn't know what to do next. Should he run out into the open and

risk being seen? Or should he stay in his hiding place and possibly end up in the boot

with a giant female foot in it? To Frank, it was a no-brainer. Again Frank prepared

himself for a long run, but with all his hesitation, he had taken too long.

Frank felt his floor move. He fell backward. He saw the round opening of

the living move away as he fell into the black tunnel of death. He landed flat

on his back. He was trapped in his wife's boot, waiting for the inevitable. The

ceiling fan spun in slow motion, as did the looming shadow of the foot

approaching the opening of the boot. Frank was like a deer in headlights. He was

flat on his back, wanting to react but unable to move a single frozen muscle.

Then toes, large toes, toes that were bigger than his head, replaced his view of

the ceiling fan. The toes were entering his sanctuary and were falling upon him.

The rest of the foot, undoubtedly that of his wife linda, followed and squelched

any remaining light. With the darkness came a wave of horror that broke Frank's

paralysis.

Frank screamed and his body jumped into motion. He sprang to his feet. He

knew his only hope was to reach the toe area. Sure it would be horrible. The

heat along with the smell would be bad, but Frank knew he could survive the

toes. He was tough. A wimpy man could not have worked like he did to build his

business from the ground. He was sure, though, that the ball of her foot would

squash him.

Tom smelled the heat of Linda's foot just above his head. He dove forward.

His head smashed onto the hard leather of the toe section. He rolled onto his

back as he tried to swing the rest of his body into the toe area. He didn't make

it. Linda' second and third toe made contact with his face as the hard ball of

Linda's foot settled on his torso.

Then came the pressure, followed by intense pain. Tom wondered how Linda

didn't feel his warm breath on her toes as she forced it from his lungs. He hoped she'd

feel his ribs give way on the bottom of her foot. He prayed that he was still dreaming.

Frank knew he was dreaming when he was in the shoe store. The surreal

quality of the sights and actions told him so. When the scene changed to his

bedroom, life around him seemed real. The sunlight streaming into the window was

too warm and comforting to be a dream. The leather smelled too good. The colors

on the floor were too vivid. But still, it couldn't be real. How could he

possibly be four inches tall and hiding in his wife's dress boot?

Frank also knew that one could not die in a dream. If a man died in a

dream, he'd really be having a heart attack in his sleep. Thirty year old Frank

was healthier than an ox. Any minute he'd awaken, if he were dreaming. If not,

he'd be dead in seconds, unless Linda allowed him to re-position his body. If

only Frank could finagle himself to a position under the base of her toes where

the pressure wasn't tonfold, he might last for hours. As the pressure increased,

Frank wondered which path he truly wanted. He didn't get the chance to decide.

All at once Linda's full weight was upon her shrunken husband's tiny body.

His tiny chest didn't fair too well. It was crushed instantly. Frank, who was

still conscious, wondered why Linda didn't feel all his blood soaking her bare

feet. He wondered why he still felt so much pressure on his chest if his chest

no longer existed. He wondered how he was still wondering at all. He should be

dead. Frank no longer wondered if he was dreaming. He had to be. He had hoped

for this type of dream for years although not nearly this graphic. This day he

hit the mother load. Frank wanted to move on. He wanted his dream to move on.

Then just like that Frank woke up. He woke up to another dream.

The same western sun that earlier spread across the carpet before him like

the golden rays warming the Painted Desert, now streamed into Frank's eyes

nearly blinding him. The extreme weight on his torso had followed him into the

next chapter of his dream. He tried to breath, but when his diaphragm tightened,

little air was able to seep its way into his burning lungs.

Frank looked from the late-day sun to the massive form sitting on his

chest. Whatever it was, it was huge. A gray cloth, stretched to its limit,

wrapped something soft yet massive. From the shape of the thing and the feel of

it on his body, Frank guessed it was a giant female ass more than half the width

of his own body length. Now we're getting somewhere, Frank thought. He might

start to enjoy this dream if only the owner of the ass would allow him to regain

his breath.

Frank looked up to see who the owner of the ass was. He assumed it would

be Linda even though the thing weighing him down seemed much flabbier than his

wife's bottom. Then again, Frank never saw Linda's bottom from quite this

perspective before. As Frank's view settled upon the face glaring back down on

him, he attempted to gasp but failed. Smiling down on him with a smug grin on

her cute lips and a flirting shine in her eyes was none other than Kim Jackson.

"Did you have a nice sleep little fellow?" Kim asked. Frank didn't

understand what she said. Her voice, although definitely that of Kim Jackson,

sounded deeper. "Having trouble breathing?" she asked.

That time Frank understood her. His mind had made the calibration. He

nodded, playing along with the dream. Frank felt the pressure increase

momentarily then dissolve as Kim stood up. He watched her ass ascend and move

off of him. Kim took one step to the side offering Frank a better view of its

entire width.

As Frank regained his breath he marveled at the size of the thing. Kim's

butt must be four maybe five times wider than his whole head. It was simply

magnificent and it was inside the same pair of tight fitting spandex sweats she

had on earlier. Tom was amazed at how Kim's ass, for its size, held together so

firmly. Sure it had fine ripples and tiny craters, but they added to the overall

appeal. It was the imperfections that put Kim's ass over the top.

Frank just couldn't take his eyes off the thing he'd fantasized over for

years as it moved over his face. He watched intently as it drew nearer. Frank

couldn't move as the cloth separating the two humongous cheeks tickled the end

of his nose. Frank couldn't believe it as Kim's perfect ass devoured his face.

Kim sat back, full weight on the sofa. She looked at Frank's skinny legs.

They looked like they were growing out of her left hip. Frank was down to about

three feet Kim guessed. She figured the pathetic creature she now owned was

currently enjoying himself. We'll see just how wonderful he feels when he runs

out of air.

Kim had walked more that morning that she probably walked for weeks and

Frank could tell. Every drop of fat that she burned had turned to sweet smelling

sweat. Each drop of the nectar had made its way to her pants. Franks face was

now swimming in the aroma. At first it was euphoric. Between the smell and the

feel of a giant ass consuming his whole head, Frank was in Heaven.

Frank quickly got to the point where he needed to breathe. That confounded

breathing always ruined the fun. He kicked his legs to let Kim know he wanted a

breath. It was his dream. It should have worked, but it didn't. He kicked again

to no avail. It wasn't working and Frank's lungs were on fire.

Frank wasn't the only one enjoying himself. Kim was having fun also. She

had never sat on a person's face before in her life, normal sized or half sized.

She was in charge, and Linda's hubby was at her mercy. She could finish him off

now. She knew it, but that would be too quick. She wanted to play with her new

victim. She needed to turn his pleasure into suffering.

Frank felt light-headed. He thought he was about to enter the next part of

his dream when the mountain of flesh he had been part of lifted. It didn't rise

off him very far or for very long. His eyes didn't even get the chance to

readjust to the light before he was re-attached to Kim's ass. Fortunately for

Frank, He gathered enough oxygen to last another minute.

Kim raised herself off Frank just long enough for him to grab three deep

breaths before she sat back down on the top half of Frank's body. Despite her

sweatpants, his face was in her crack. Her left cheek now covered all of Frank's

body except for his lower legs and feet. He was shrinking nicely. It was a

matter of minutes before she would have to stop the process.

Kim let Frank breath at her own pace. Frank on the other hand had moved

from heaven to purgatory. The amount of time between breaths was growing. The

size of the ass that was punishing him was also growing. Frank was concentrating

less on the pleasure of being part of Kim's ass and more on surviving the dream.

Frank decided it was definitely time to move on or wake up. He still didn't know

that Kim was calling the shots and he was her toy.

When Frank's feet finally disappeared under her left ass cheek, Kim

decided it was time to go home. She stood, did an about-face and dropped to her

knees to look upon her defeated foe. His face was beat-red from all the

smothering she had done to him.

Frank gazed upward in a blank stare. His eyes, oblong from all the

pressure, slowly focused on the object that moved over him. Kim's brown hair

framed her speckled round face as it cascaded down from her head. Her pert lips

were drawn tightly into a smile.

Frank was stunned, but his mind was still working. Frank thought again.

Kim had grown to preposterous proportions, but then how was she still in the

house? It was then that Frank realized the enormity of his situation.

"I'm still dreaming," Frank whispered out loud trying to convince himself.

"I'm still dreaming."

Frank watched Kim's lips intently as her smile tightened then broke open

into a snicker. "You think this a dream," she asked Frank quietly. "You think

you're still dreaming?" Her voice grew harsher. "You're not even asleep."

Frank had caught his breath and was staring into Kim's moving mouth, her

tongue skirting behind lips that probably never felt the sexuality of lipstip.

"Look where you are," she commanded. Frank couldn't pull his eyes off her face.

"Look I said." That louder burst from Kim's stern mouth did the trick.

Frank broke his trance and looked down his body. He still felt the warm

breath emanating from above blanketing his face with fear. He saw that he was

lying face up on his sofa, right where he fell asleep. A pile of white cotton,

his undies covered half his body. The far end of the sofa was about twenty feet

away. His whole body took up one pillow of the three-pillow couch. Kim hadn't

grown. Frank had shrunk. "Of course", Frank muttered. "This was a shrinking

dream."

"So you still think your dreaming do you?" Kim barked downward. She was

enjoying herself immensely so far. She looked forward to the week of her life.

Kim had to convince Frank that he wasn't dreaming. His suffering wouldn't be

complete otherwise. How should she accomplish such a task? A pinch always worked

on TV.

"Pinch yourself", Kim barked, "or I'll do it for you." Kim knew her

fingers were too big to effectively pinch a foot long person without killing

him, but she knew her threat would work. Frank pinched himself and felt real

pain. He did it again with the same result. He remembered the real burning in

his lungs and the real pressure on his face.

"Fuck," Frank exclaimed. He had really shrunk. And of all people to find

him, Kim Jackson had to be the one. And then 'Miss Saint Catherine of Sienna'

herself actually had sat her perfect pumpkin on him. Maybe it was an accident,

Frank thought. It must have been. In the hopes that it was, Frank asked the

giant woman looking down at him as he re-focussed on Kim's mouth. "But how did

it happen?"

"I heard you like big butts. A number of people told me you liked mine in

particular."

Frank felt his stomach sink. That wasn't the direction he hoped Kim's

response would take. All at once, like a ton of bricks hitting the pavement,

Frank remembered last week when Linda told Colleen that he liked Kim's butt.

"I'm not stupid. I've been noticing how you stare at my backside for

months. I've been planning this day for a long time. Tonight, you get your

wish."

Frank was beginning to show the fear he was feeling. He also knew he had

to make a run for it soon. It was his house. He'd have plenty of places to hide.

"Every Sunday you so stupidly come to me for communion and every Sunday I

slip you a fake host. Haven't you felt the burning in your throat?" Frank was

feeling it then."

Kim's mouth was so close to Frank's that she could have licked him. All he

could do was hope he got a chance to run before she hurt him. "I shrank you, she

said meanly. And I'm going to shrink you some more."

Kim pulled her face away slowly. She pulled Frank's sweaty under wear away

from his body and exclaimed. "Why you little pervert. Your tiny little thingy is

all excited. How dare you. You are married to a wonderful girl. I'll teach you."

Kim quickly jumped to her feet and spun around. She planned on sitting on Frank

briefly before taking him home, but before she was able to plop herself back

down on him, he jumped up and dove sideways. "Wonderful girl my ass," Frank

yelled.

Frank would have made it had he anticipated the kinetic energy of Kim's

falling body. Her ass missed him, but the bounce of the cushion he was on

didn't. Frank was propelled into the air. As he flew upward, Frank imagined

himself to be Buzz Lightyear. Hidden wings popped out and away he flew from

danger. Then he began his descent.

As luck would have it, Frank's slow motion headfirst fall was heading

right for Kim's lap. He tried flapping his wings and kicking his feet but his

course wasn't changing.

Kim's reaction time was splendid. She saw the hurling little man headed

toward her legs. She quickly steadied herself, opened, and then closed her meaty

thighs a tenth of a second before the falling Frank hit. Frank landed head first

between Kim's upper legs. She had timed it perfectly. Three quarters of Frank

was now in the pressure cooker of Kim's thighs.

Frank couldn't believe his luck. He had been tossed high enough into the

air by Kim's inertia to land him almost anywhere in the room. Why did he have to

land where he did? The worst part was he watched his whole descent in a fraction

of real speed. He saw himself heading toward Kim's upper thighs. He wasn't sure

which one he'd hit, but Frank figured he might hit one those thick things and

bounce to the other end of the room. As he prepared himself for the hit, he saw

the two massive slabs of thigh meat move apart just enough to swallow him whole.

Frank instantly began kicking his legs like a child having a hussy fit.

One squeeze of Kim's thigh muscles put an end to that. Frank and Kim were both

amazed, from completely different perspectives, at how much muscle still

remained in her fatty ex-cheerleading legs.

Kim could have sat on Frank's sofa like this for hours, but knew she had

to go home. She was hungry and tired. She gave Frank a good hard minute-long

squeeze to subdue him while she re-adjusted. Kim then stood up letting Franks

limp form fall to the cushion under her. She pulled her smelly sweats down to

her knees. She hadn't bothered putting panties on that morning and the crotch of

her sweatpants was stained with her fluids.

Kim looked behind herself at Frank. She had a sudden desire to sit back

down on him nude, letting him become part of her ass without the separation of

cotton, but made better judgment. There would be plenty of time for that. She

reached behind herself, grabbing Frank, and positioned his limp body behind her

right thigh with his face buried in the bottom fold of her butt. She figured

with her right foot moving from the accelerator to the brake pedal, Frank might

get more of a chance to breathe. Kim pulled his arms and legs as far as they

could reach around her thigh and re-entered her ultra tight sweatpants. After

Kim locked the house, she swung that baby all the way out to her car without a

peep from her new plaything. She had plans. It had been too long.

Frank's time of struggling was over. Kim's thighs had been too much. She

had him to do with what she wanted. His only hope was with Kim's fondness of his

miserable wife or her devout Christian faith. For once Frank prayed. "Please

God, ask Kim to go easy on my sorry soul."

The Spirit of Christmas part III by willie

"The Body of Christ," Kim said to Colleen on Sunday morning as she

administered the holy Eucharist to her friend. Kim could tell by the look on

Colleen's face that Colleen knew something was up. Kim didn't think Colleen

could see Frank's form, but she was paranoid anyway. Kim wore loose fitting

black slacks to church that morning. Under that she had on ultra tight panties

to suck her bottom in some so it didn't look as big. And yes, hapless frank was

inside that white over-stretched piece of cotton.

By the time Kim had gotten home the previous night and made herself

something to eat, her parasite had shrunk more. Even though the process was

quite slow, Kim was able to feel his tiny feet millimeter their way up the back

of her thighs. As she sat on the hard kitchen chair to eat a bowl of microwave

spaghetti, Kim guessed the length of her current prisoner and future toy to be

about six inches. Another ten minutes more should do the trick. She ate, cleaned

the kitchen, and tidied up her house. Half an hour later, she went upstairs to

shower and go to bed.

After Frank had recovered from the beating he took from Kim's deceivingly

strong thighs, he took the time to assess his situation. Actually he was un-

graciously given the time to do so. For the time being he was comfortable. Kim's

soft skin felt good against his naked body. He guessed he was under Kim's right

thigh. He felt buried muscles working beneath layers of fat. Each press of

either pedal sent waves of motion up through the blubber. Each wave washed up

against his straining hard-on like ocean waves relentlessly pounding a pylon at

the end of a pier.

At first, breathing was a problem. Frank panicked when his lungs called

for air, but he remained calm. He wanted to try to make the best of his current

situation. Sure he was at Kim's mercy and she had already smothered and squeezed

him into submission, but hadn't he fantasized about that very thing happening.

Frank needed to stay one step ahead of Kim. He had to find a way to make this

experience a positive one.

Frank found that if he inhaled hard enough with his face buried in Kim's

flesh, he was able to meet his lungs' minimal requirement for oxygen. Although

his lungs needed to work hard and fast, and all he could taste was Kim's smell,

Frank could actually survive breathing this way. What surprised him most was Kim

never offered him a breath by raising her leg or bottom off the seat. Did Kim

already know what he just found out or was she was trying to kill him right

away? For what reason, Frank had no idea. He also had no idea he was still

shrinking.

Frank was wide-awake as Kim climbed out of her BMW and began walking. It

was now time for his neck to get a workout. As Kim's left leg stepped forward

and her right leg fell behind, Kim's ass cheek forced Frank's head alarmingly

backward. As she reversed her step, Frank's head was allowed, by the same giant

ass cheek, to return to its normal position. Seconds later his head was forced

backward, his Adams Apple ready to burse through his skin. A few second more and

Frank's neck was forward facing.

Over and over again Frank's head nodded back then forward. His earlier

comfort was gone. Once again he was suffering. The only saving grace was when

Kim would stand still for a moment or two. Frank took advantage of these spells

to regain his wits knowing the neck torture would soon resume. It always did.

At one point, Kim sat down on a hard surface with such force she knocked

him senseless. He was still reeling when she stood back up and resumed his

torment. He hadn't even been given the chance to regain his wits. His suffering

intensified when Kim took her first step upward. Frank heard a crack and felt an

abrupt shot of pain. He was sure his neck was broken and was waiting for the

bright lights to come and take him away when it all passed.

Frank felt upward motion and knew the leg he was riding was stepping

upward. At the height of his rise, Frank found he had so much room he could

actually bend his neck forward. Luckily it still worked. If it had actually

broken, it had mended itself surprisingly fast.

Frank felt the vibration of the foot land and knew what he was in for

next. Most houses have thirteen steps. Kim took the first step with her left

foot. That meant six more painful spine-cracking steps. The second was worse

than the first. Frank felt the same pain and heard the same sounds of cracking

vertebrae. But again, with the forth step came a perfectly fine neck. With the

fifth came the terror of anticipation for the imminent pain followed by a bolt

of lightning that he felt in his own ass. By the sixth, it was physical relief

but mental torment. Seven more to go. And so it continued. Step by step. By the

time Kim hit the second floor, Frank was sobbing muffled screams of pain.

Frank finally saw light as he slid down Kim's leg. She was removing her

sweats. He took the opportunity to refill his lungs with real air. He instantly

felt like he was in a Rocky Mountain Coors beer commercial. The cool fresh air

relieved his tired lungs and soothed his aching neck. He felt himself slide over

Kim's calf and bounce off her heel. He felt himself shaken from the garment.

Then all at one he was cold.

Frank opened his eyes. He didn't recall having them closed. Since he had

spent the last forty minutes or so with his face immersed in the lower part of

Kim Jackson's ass, Frank's eyes took a few minutes to adjust to Kim's bedroom

lighting. When they did adjust, Frank saw Kim's hand reaching for him and it was

bigger than the last time he saw it.

Frank felt the primordial fight or flee impulse shoot out from his command

center. Again he tried to get away but this time he ran into the same smelly

sweatpants he and Kim had worn. Kim easily plucked him from her sweats and

wrapped her fingers around him. He struggled briefly, ignoring the ascent, until

he saw the size of her face.

Frank was looking at Kim's face through a telescope. Every nuance of her

face stood out boldly. It was like her face was the Sun and he was tiny

innermost planet Mercury. The reflection of the bathroom light reflected off

Kim's corneas, making her eyes look ablaze. One nostril flared outwardly more

than the other when she exhaled. One side of her sparkling grin reached farther

toward her ear. And when she opened her mouth to speak, Kim's perfect front

teeth shown with the reflection of a tiny head sticking out of a clenched fist.

"So you still want to run?" the giant mouth asked. A breeze of toothpaste

smell blew past Frank's face. He tried to shake his head from side to side but

Kim's grasp was too firm.

"I was going to let you go to sleep where you wanted," Kim lectured. It

almost looked like she was talking to her hand. "I was going to give you

something to eat and something to drink. I was going to be nice to you, but you

insist on running away from me." Kim was shaking her head slowly from side to

side. As she did her flowing hair revealed glimces of her earring-less ears. Her

lips thickened into a sulking frown. "Now I'll have to put you to bed myself."

Kim carried Frank into the bedroom in her right fist. In her left hand was

her sweaty smelly pair of spandex sweatpants she wore and worked in all day.

With one hand, Kim laid the sweats on her bed with the waistband open. With her

right, she gently placed her prisoner. She positioned him face down right in the

crotch area where her womanly smell flourished. She then closed the sweats and

folded them up into as small a package as possible. She sat her big naked butt

on the folded up shorts just for good measure. Kim felt no movement under her so

she bounced herself back onto her feet and went into the bathroom for a nice

comforting bath.

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

Kim barely made her way out of the church's back door Sunday morning after

mass when Colleen attacked her. "Where's Frank? He's not answering his phone."

"How should I know?" the off-guard celebrant answered. "Maybe he's on a

binge."

"Or maybe you have him," Colleen suggested. "Come on. Tell me. Where's

Frank?"

"Come over tonight Col, after dinner."

"Why." Colleen was dying to know if he was where she thought he was. "Come

on Kim," she pleaded. "Spill it now. I can't wait that long."

Kim shook her head no. "I'll see you after dinner." She then carefully

hurried off toward her car. Kim had parked in the icy lot at the rear of the

church. Like the Grim Reaper, a cold front had passed through the previous night

leaving a thin sheet of deadly black ice on the pavement. Kim did not want to be

his first victim, nor did she want Frank to be so she slowed her walk to an

upright crawl. She knew Colleen wouldn't follow.

Colleen always parked on the street in front of the majestic building. One

look at the icy lot behind the church where Kim's car was told Colleen she'd

better off wait till tonight. She headed toward her Jeep feeling rejected yet

excited. She had been put off but also invited. Colleen knew something was up

and she wanted part of it.

The roads had be

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