Fiction - "A Matter of Life and Breast" - Prologue (Patreon)

[Ed. Note: I hope you really enjoy this new little tale I'm embarking on. I've been working on it for a while, and have been collaborating with a positively amazing artist who is illustrating it. I normally post the tales of pure fiction in the appropriate $12 tier. But for this first chapter, however, I'm putting it up for all the Patrons. I would love for all of you to "see how it feels." Enjoy!]

The sunlight that had shone unimpeded in a clear blue sky just an hour before had become obscured in the faintest haze, as the very first of the winds of Otto rustled the leaves of the old oak tree. Below, a figure emerged from the shadows of an open garage, moving gingerly once she reached the shallow grade of the driveway, certain that one false step could send the wheelchair she was pushing into a gradual careen, and out of her control. She spared only a brief thought about how this was the first time she had ventured out of her home in… weeks? No, longer. More like months.

She had been hoping that this storm would spare Florida. Maybe head out to sea. Maybe smash into North Carolina, like the last Category 6 did. The few who hadn’t permanently left were still picking up the pieces; another punch wouldn’t make too much of a difference. But, no. Sure as shit, like a bullet, the strongest hurricane of 2037, so far, had its sights dead-set on Miami.

Jacqui hated the idea of evacuating. As far as she was concerned, they should just take their chances at home, in Tampa, clear across the Peninsula and halfway up the state. This storm was a monster, but they were far enough away. Maybe they would only get a little bit of rain, and lose power for a little while, at worst.

But her husband was adamant. “One little tick to the north,” he said, “and we’d be screwed. And in your condition, even if the whole fucking house didn’t blow away…”

Condition, Jacqui thought. She hated when he called it that. She grumbled under her breath as she steadily approached the open bed of their pickup truck. The load before her rested precariously on a makeshift wooden seat that was bracketed to the arms of the chair. She was willing this large, unruly encumbrance to stay firmly in place for the last few steps, and that she wouldn’t get yanked to the ground. Maybe if he wanted to evacuate so bad, he should’ve maybe been able to find a fucking van in this city.

Jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed, Jacqui positioned the chair alongside the open tailgate, taking a moment to arch her back and breathe deeply. She realized that she didn’t quite know how she would pull this off by herself. She wasn’t a particularly tall woman, but this flatbed looked higher than she remembered. Still. It was better than spending one more moment in that house, with Matt running around gathering the essentials and Ellie throwing a hissy fit. They had barely spoken all morning, and she wasn’t going to break that silence by asking him for help.

Probably going to get stuck in traffic, she thought. People are probably gonna wonder why the hell this woman is sitting in the back of this truck when there’s still plenty of room in the cab. Probably get pulled over by some cop who’s gonna wanna see what’s under that stupid tarp you’ve got the bright idea of fastening over everything below my armpits. It was only 4 hours to Valdosta, and the updates were saying that the evacuation roads were still pretty clear. But the moment the first drop of rain hit Jacqui’s head, she was gonna shoot somebody.

She finished positioning the wheelchair. Taking a deep breath and tensing her muscles, she wrapped her fingers around the lowest point of the makeshift sling that she had relied upon, more and more, for support recently.

One… Two…

On the count of three, she pulled upward, hefting her left breast with all her might. Her jaw clenched tighter, and she bared her teeth as she felt the muscles in her shoulders strain. Arching her back, she tried hesitantly to balance on one foot as she used her other knee to give a little extra boost.

“C’mon… c’mon…”

With one last tug, she flopped her enormous breast onto the tailgate and took a moment to gather herself. This reprieve only lasted for an instant, however: before she had the chance to catch her breath, she could feel a small imbalance. It only registered with her for a moment that her other breast was not happy being on the wheelchair anymore, having decided to slowly avalanche off the shelf.

“Shitshitshitshit,” Jacqui yelped, as she scrambled for the strap that fitted over her right breast. She had clumsily managed to grab hold just as the full 103 pounds threatened to pull her to the ground, had it not been for the anchoring force of the boob that had already made it to the truck. The stinging of a treaded ankle that was just on the verge of feeling 100% since the last time she rolled it out. A sharp pain radiated through her fingertip; she was sure the sudden tensing of the fabric had torn a fingernail. As for the fabric itself, it was the strongest canvas she could wear with any comfort, but even so, she heard a few pops of fabric splitting at the seams.

Off balance, bent to her side, and without the luxury of starting from the height of the wheelchair, she strained, nonetheless, to lift this unruly appendage to where it belonged.

Jacqui’s eyes watered, but not from strain. “Come oooonnn, you goddamn fucking bitch,” Jacqui sputtered. Her eyes were closed, but she knew she was nowhere near the lid of the tailgate. “Why can’t you… gmfff… fucking… just…”

Shit, Jacqui thought, taking a wet sniff through her nose. She relaxed her shoulders only a little. For now, the supporting sling was creating a balance that kept her from collapsing entirely. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if it tore in half completely. At best there would be some bruising. At worst… she wasn’t sure whether the last round of treatments had yet strengthened her skin enough to withstand the full force of a 100-pound tit suddenly surrendering to gravity and freefalling, without some issues. She didn’t have a choice.

Shit. He’s just gonna loooove this…

“Matt! Matt!” she shouted into the house as calmly as she could. “Get out here!” She heard another seem give a small pop. “Quick!!!”