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.Stopover in a little louder town	By : keithcompany Category: S through Z > The Twilight Zone Views: 2465 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight Zone or any characters or settings from the show. I make no profit from this fanfic.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Bobbi grabbed Bree's hands tightly as they rounded a corner. "Are you scared?" the other girl asked. Or started to, she had to scream as they dropped about sixty feet in mid sentence.
"Something feels wrong," Bobbi said. "I'm worried."
"Worried? You're supposed to be scared!" The coaster shot through a loop then climbed up to the highest point on the circuit. Halle swore that if you leaned far enough, you could touch the sky at that point. Bree reached, Bobbi closed her eyes.
There was a lurch. For a second, Bobbi thought her partner had upset the damned thing. But none of them weighed enough to take the coaster off the rails. Bree screamed, and not out of pleasure. Bobbi opened her eyes.
The frame of the ride was tipped to the side. The rails ahead pointed up to and disappeared into the sky. Before they knew it, they were outside of Pleasantville. Carl's dark but strangely-lit living quarters loomed around them, stretching into unguessable distances.
The coaster barreled along, swinging wide out over the empty abyss. This part of the ride was on the far side of the table from the Monopoly neighborhood. No giant was in sight. Just a disintegrating track ahead, with rails spiraling off into the air.
They screamed again, their voices swallowed up in the great space. The restraints bit into their sides as unplanned forces threw them back and forth. Then the cart shot into space.
The pair drifted for a while, unable to guess how far away the ground was. After a bit, Bobbi stopped screaming and held up her hand. "Hey? Do you feel any wind?"
Bree's death grip on the dashboard never wavered but she did stop screaming and listened. Their hair bounced but wasn't being blown by the wind. There was a gentle breeze but not the expected torrent of air. They didn't seem to be rushing to their death.
"What the hell?" Bree asked. Bobbi shrugged. Or tried to, under the massive seat-belts. They twisted to look around. The dome of Pleasantville was behind them, and it kind of felt like they were looking up at it.
A few surfaces were irregularly spaced around them. Some flat, some at odd angles. Nothing looked familiar.
"Why aren't we falling?" Bobbi was finally comfortable enough to ask.
"I don't know. Maybe…" Bree shook her head. "Artificial gravity screw up?"
"Or the power supply of the coaster has electromagnetic qualities that technobabble it in the field of broadcast power that Carl employs." Trekkers the pair of them, they occupied themselves with weirder and weirder explanations for why they were drifting to the floor, not falling to their deaths. The longer they went without plummeting, the easier they felt about their situation and the more fun they had.
"Of course," Bree pointed out at one point, "Carl did say that the floor itself would be lethal."
"You had to say that?" Bobbi asked.
"Yeah," Bree replied. "There's got to be some dramatic line right before the commercial, to make sure everyone comes back, to see if anyone dies when the shuttle crashes on the planet." She pointed dramatically at an imaginary camera forward of the coaster. "Don't go away! You might miss our death!"
"I don't think that's very damned funny…."
-------------
The coaster drifted lower and lower, finally coming down to touch the floor. There was the softest of metal sliding on metal scrapes, then it stopped. It was canted over about forty or fifty degrees.
When it stopped moving there were some mechanical pops then the restraints lifted and the girls slid across the seat to pile up on one edge. They sat there for a long while, holding each other and breathing.
"We're alive?" Bobbi asked.
"I think so," Bree replied.
"Maybe we should get out?"
"Well, if your car breaks down, they say you should stay with it so rescuers can find you." They thought about that for a second. A whistling sound drew their attention. Forty feet of track and the supporting beams was overhead, falling gently in their direction.
"That's coming right at us."
"But it's falling so slowly."
"But it's still a ton or two of metal."
"Coming right at us?"
"Coming right at us." They scrambled over each other and the ledge, finally getting clear and moving away from the depending debris. Once they started moving, their legs seemed to take over. They burned adrenaline as they shot away from the wreckage.
The track landed in an slow-motion crumpling, tearing the coaster into pieces. Bree described it. Bobbi never looked back.
"So, where are we going?" Bobbi asked after a while.
"Away?"
"But what if we're running towards that cleaning system Carl mentioned." They slowed to a walk and then stopped.
They were on a vast plain, the floor of Carl's quarters. The surface beneath them seemed to be made of a dark black foam, but it didn't give at all under their weight.
The supports for the Pleasantville table were a long way away, smooth pillars with no way to climb the two-hundred some feet back to safety. A few more pillars supported platforms they couldn't identify.
The sky burst with sound. "Oh, no!" Carl stepped around the table. In full view, from down on the floor, he was mind numbingly huge. His movements seemed a little slow to his observers, he took not quite dreamlike steps around the toy city. But at his size, those steps ate up the distance in surprising speed.
He was distant, then he was right next to them, then his foot swept over their heads.
Bree screamed and threw herself to the ground. Bobbi tried to run. Both were caught under his boot.
------
"What did he say?" Lisa asked.
"He said, 'oh, no,' and never made his move," Fiona said.
"Carl?" Lisa called. "Is the game over?" There was no response. Everyone looked over at Carl's Howitzer on Kate's Boardwalk. He'd rolled the number he needed to get safely to his railroad then ran off.
"Hey," Halle said, "has anyone heard the rollercoaster go by?"
"Not for a while," Jackie said. Lisa started walking towards the train station. The rest followed.
-------
Bobbi felt something scrape the back of her head. It spun her around, knocking her to the floor. She lay on her back and watched the giant boot descend the rest of the way. The sole was a smooth, matte black plane the size of a basket ball court.
She lay across the edge. Her head and one arm were free as the shoe pinned her to the floor. She screamed. A few feet away, Bree's scream was cut off as the boot touched down around the girl.
Irresistible pressure bore down on Bobbi, every inch from her throat down. But she didn't die. The boot rested upon her for a long, dragging moment. She could sense the weight above her, just barely restrained. Somehow restrained. The foam floor domed under her back, depressed on either side of her body.
She looked above her, at the long leg stretching up into the sky. There was a glimpse of Carl's face, or at least his nostrils, looking towards the wreckage of the coaster. His other foot swung by, the world's most unimaginative parade float.
It was like being caught in amber, or armored superglue. She couldn't even wriggle a knuckle against the pinning force.
Then it lifted. The pressure disappeared like a switch was thrown. She watched the boot fly up into the sky. For a second, the smooth sole had a contour. A silhouette of her body was formed in the material. She could even distinguish individual fingers.
"What happened?" Carl was saying. He knelt down to pick through the debris. She wondered briefly if she should try to get his attention, or just hide from being stepped on again. Then she remembered Bree.
A very still form lay a few feet away. Bobbi rolled to her feet and scrambled towards it. "At least it's still 3D," she said. And still alive.
Bree's limbs were locked in place. Bobbi feared catatonia as she rolled her friend over. "Bree? Are you breathing?" After a moment of silence she leaned down to one ear. "You're alive, Bree. We both are."
One eye opened a crack. "He stepped on us."
"Yes. And we lived. Come on, let's get off the floor. Or at least out of the walkway?" She helped Bree up. They shook off the claustrophobia and ran towards the nearest pedestal under Pleasantville.
Once they were within a few feet of the tower they started to relax. Carl was unlikely to step on them here. They slowed to a stop and looked around. The giant was kneeling on the floor, poking some sort of probe through the wreck.
"Was anyone in this?" he muttered. "Anyone?" He listened for a moment. "Oh, yeah." He tapped something on his sleeve. "Set sound system voice sensitive, entire domestic suite. Anyone want to talk to me?"
"Carl?" Bobbie yelled. She was trying to figure out how to describe their location. Before she came up with anything, the great head spun around. He looked right at her.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "Ah. Both of you? Is there anyone else on the floor?"
"No, just us. Um? About that cleaning system?"
"It's turned off most of the day," he said. He twisted on his feet and knelt down beside the table. Bree found herself thinking of dinosaur movies as the great mass moved overhead. "Sorry about the coaster, I can't imagine what went wrong."
He pulled a small tray out of his pocket and placed it beside them. It was the size of a tennis court. Stanchions here and there provided handholds. Bobbi took Bree by the arm and led her up onto it.
"Hey, we're not complaining? But I can't help but notice that we're not dead," Bobbi said.
"The artificial gravity is set to protect things that are disturbed," he said. The tray rocked as he picked it up and stood. Bree grabbed her post tightly and whimpered. "You guys shouldn't jump over the edge, though. You're too small for the sensor to discriminate. If you weren't in the coaster, you'd have splatted." He started to walk around Pleasantville.
"Uh-huh," Bobbi said. She noticed that Bree's eyes closed tight at the image. She put an arm around her shoulders and held on tight. "What about your shoes?"
"Oh, no, did I step on you?" He stopped walking and lifted the tray up to his eye. It tilted slightly away from him as he looked them over. The girls had to shift their feet against the tipping. "Sorry." He overcorrected and they shifted again. "Sorry!" He took a deep breath and evened it out. "You look okay."
"Yeah, fine," Bobbi replied. "Why?"
"My boots are smart," he said. "The sole's have to deal with a wide array of surfaces in a number of conditions. And if they don't know what they're touching, they try not to."
"They touched," Bree hissed. "They pinned me down! I couldn't move! I couldn't breathe!"
"Well, they're not that smart," he said. "And they do have all of my mass to deal with. They probably made a little pocket for the unknowns, you guys, and it would have been a minimal pocket indeed. So, touched, yeah, but not crushing."
"It was cool," Bobbi said. "All that weight, 300,000 tons, and all I felt was like I was under a dozen mattresses or something."
"That," Bree said, "is a princess and pea story I could avoid." She shuddered.
"Could the boots…." Bobbi paused.
"What?" Bree asked.
"Could they press down…any harder?"
"Hmmm," Carl mused. "Save bones, maybe, but tell them that soft tissue is…" He looked into the distance as he walked.
"Are you CRAZY?" Bree asked. "A giant boot! THIS close to making a pancake out of you! And you want to be flatter?"
"No… But… But… Something about a big, enormous, colossal boot. I just… I wanna feel it again."
"Girl, when I think about colossal things in this place, MY mind doesn't go to his feet."
"Where does it go?" Carl asked.
"Um…" Bree looked up at his eye. "No place I wanna go alone."
------
Bobbi sat naked in Carl's hand. She held her knees and rocked back and forth.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked her.
"Yes," said.
"Okay. I've reprogrammed the soles. Some parts are going to land on you like fluffy bunny pillow socks, some are going to bruise." He lowered her to the ground and tipped his hand. She slid off and landed on her feet.
"If you make it from here to the pillar, I owe you four hundred catalog points AND I can't play any naked pet games for three days. If I step on you five times, you lose. And you have to take one of the others' places for their usual game."
"Okay!" she said. He stood up straight and took one step around the Pleasantville table.
"GO!" She took off running. He disappeared around the table and she veered to the right. She wasn't sure if he was tracking her with anything, but she didn't want to be too predictable.
She'd been pretty good at track and had gone running regularly since getting…collected. Now she was comfortably slipping along.
The foamed-something floor gave a tiny bit today, actually speeding her forward. Carl must have adjusted more than his shoes.
When it started to shake she turned back towards the nearest pedestal. She felt fast and she felt smart. A small part of her pointed out that with all that extra running, she'd probably moved herself about seven Carl-toes away from her original track. She ignored herself and poured on more speed.
Carl's boot swept overhead and came crashing down. She felt wind whistle through her hair from behind as the air column under his foot was compressed. Hoping she'd be at the edge like before, she threw herself into a low dive.
Lights went away as she was buried. Crushing mass bore her down. Her face bounced off of the foam then was pressed down into it. She thought of tire rubber smashing down on her. Then she thought of Zoe. An old girlfriend of hers, Zoe had given these tremendous backrubs. Her only rule was that skin found bones. Press the hide against the skeleton like you're outlining it and the person just melts.
Zoe could have programmed this shoe. She felt outlining pressure seem to find and identify each bone in her body, cup each joint. Not lovingly, not like a masseuse or a partner, but like a museum scholar cataloging each find and carefully measuring all the particulars.
It was at once intimate, yet impersonal. Carl's filtered weight insinuated itself into her rib cage, her spine and her pelvis, all at once and without any direction or agenda.
She coughed and found that there wasn't any air to breathe. That worked out well, as the sole wasn't prepared to let her breathe in, either.
Then it was gone. She was up, even before she caught her breath, staggering forward to her goal. She didn't bother veering.
The floor shaking faded as she found her pace, but came back all too soon. Now she turned, going towards him, maybe to catch him by surprise, force a misstep.
She almost made it. She was running straight for his heel as the toes and arch passed overhead. Then she was under the heel. Then she was completely- The bastard swung his leg back a little bit. She was kicked in the back of the head once more and forced down.
This time, though, the sole had the consistency of a knitted sleeping bag. Even before he lifted his foot she had yanked herself free and gotten up.
"Hey!" his voice rumbled in protest. She would have giggled but her lungs were too busy.
On his third lap, he actually missed. The foot crashed down about three feet in front of her. She was unable to stop and bounced off of the side of the sole. He looked down at her as she lay panting on her back.
She gulped air down and waited for him to move on. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted his foot and slid it over. The sole gently landed over her feet, pinning her in place from the knees down.
He didn't say anything, but took a deep, slow breath. She smiled in thanks and took the brief rest. Her breathing steadied then deepened. She playfully wiped the sweat off of her pert breasts as he watched.
It was a distinct thrill. Others had held her down. One had tied her to his bunk. No one had used the mass of a battleship to keep her from getting away. She had an image of Carl wearing a pair of handcuffs. And tucked in between wrist and metal, a teeny tiny Bobbi writhing under the pressure.
Then he was gone again. She rose, feeling at least a little refreshed. He'd probably say that was three captures but it was worth it. She took off.
The fourth time was painful. His reprogramming may have overestimated human bones. She had tripped as she ducked, then sprawled on her back to watch the blackness descend. For a moment, she hadn't been sure it was stopping.
The shoe sank her into the flooring beneath her, smashing her breasts across her chest, bending her nose and pressing her belly button to her spine. She whimpered, fearing that this time she might actually die. She also delighted in the sharp bolt of pleasure striking inward from the distressed lips of her pussy.
'What a way to go,' she thought. The creaking of her joints sounded through her skeleton to the bones of her ear, like a movie submarine sinking below crush depth.
Crush depth. If they only knew.
Then she popped back to normal as he moved on. She lay for a second, watching his ass move off. She wasn't sure if she really wanted to move at all.
Still, it wouldn't be the same if she wasn't trying to avoid it. She rolled over and got up, staggering on.
-------
"What do you mean, we can't have sex?" Meg asked. The girls were walking along the street, following Bobbi to her surprise. She'd just revealed how she'd earned the points to get it. And the consequence.
"I mean," she explained, "I wanted to be sure he was as motivated to win as I was. If he lost, he couldn't pick any of his partners up and have his way with them. Not for three days."
"What if we want to have sex before then?" Leslie asked.
"You can," April said with a giggle. "Just not with Carl."
"April, I love you like a sister, but-" Leslie started to say.
Fiona interrupted. "Is that the sister with the five evenly spaced pock-marks on her face?"
"Yes," Leslie said. "Jamie's my only sister."
"And aren't those marks scars?"
"Yes."
"From a rake?"
"Yes."
That you swung on her in a dispute over the last donut in the box?"
"Your point?"
"All in all, Leslie, I'd probably rather you were an only child than my sibling."
"Har, har."
"TA DA!" Bobbi shouted, waving her arms. They were outside the theatre.
"What?" Donna asked.
"It has power, now!" Bobbi said. "And a projector! And I had enough left over for ten movies."
"What ten?" four girls asked at once.
"I haven't picked them yet. Carl has about every movie on Earth in the database. We can vote for the first ten, and in the future anyone can buy another one."
"Romance!" someone shouted.
"No, sex!" two countered.
"There's a difference?"
"Not if you do it right."
"Who cares about doing it right, I just want to do it!"
The girls rushed into the theatre. The concession stand had twelve boxes of candy and twelve bunches of broccoli. "He's, uh, Carl doesn't quite have the whole shtick down yet," Bobbi explained.
"Close enough," Bree said, grabbing two boxes.
"Hey!" Jackie shouted. "One each!"
"I thought you were watching your figure," Donna commented.
"I thought we were watching a movie!"
Soon enough, they were scattered in the seats, arguing over genres, actors and titles. Lisa sat in the back row, letting the others argue details.
"Not interested in a movie, Lisa?" Carl's voice was low, and came from close nearby. It seemed unusually intimate for the giant.
"I don't care which one we watch today," she said. "I might buy some court dramas later." She found herself talking low, too, keeping the conversation private. This was almost like being on a date. Too bad her 'young man' couldn't do more than whisper in her ear.
"This is an interesting form of entertainment," he said. "We have little like it."
"You'd rather watch us or someone like us?"
"Well, it never repeats," he pointed out. They sat in silence as the Heath Ledger faction grew to dominate the discussion.
"You know," Carl said after a moment, "the idea of a pet being in a position to give me orders is new, too."
"You made the bet," she told him.
"Bet. My people don't bet. They evaluate odds and probabilities, they do their best to ensure desired outcomes. Betting is new."
"You roll dice?"
"We have sometimes found an advantage to randomizing our options. It promotes some choices that would never be explored if we left it to the will of those participating."
"Is this going somewhere?" she asked.
"I wish to make a wager with you. If I win, I get to order you around and you must obey absolutely."
"I'll be your slave."
"Yes. Without question."
"Okay. And if I win?"
"You can give me one order."
"That's hardly fair," she said with a pout.
"Well, I cannot accept orders such as taking you all home, or anything that might harm the ship or my mission. Or reveal classified information. Or hurt one of the others. Or force-"
"Okay, okay. I get it. You have complete control over me, and you want me to wager even more complete control against making acceptable requests."
"Not interested?" he said. He sounded disappointed. Good. The argument died down and Bobbi started entering a title into a keyboard beside the big screen.
"Well, what if we did it differently?" Lisa asked.
"I am open to suggestions."
"I become your slave for a day. Then I give you an order. If it's unacceptable, you say so. But I keep giving orders until you obey one."
"That could-"
"And each time you reject an order, I get ten points to spend."
"As long as you don't repeat the orders," he countered.
"Okay. If I repeat an order, the game is over. You don't have to obey any until the next time we play." The lights dimmed and she sank down in her seat.
"I believe that is acceptable," he said. "Take off your panties."
"What?"
"Now. We're playing now. You're my slave for the duration of the movie. Take off your panties."
"Carl, I don't-"
"I am not supposed to pick any of you girls up and play with you for three days. I find myself unable to go completely without some sort of interactive play. So. We play. Or, I suppose I could pick up the theatre and shake-"
"Okay! Okay! They're under my shorts, though."
"Go to the restroom."
She got up and slipped out. None of the others seemed to notice. She undressed in the bathroom, putting her shorts back on and her panties stuffed into a pocket.
When she returned to the dark room, she stood in the corner for a second to let her eyes adapt. On the screen, Ledger was establishing quite a few anachronisms in feudal Europe.
She stepped up the aisle.
"Take the second row," he said. She shrugged and complied, moving to the middle of the next to back row. "Sit down. Pull your shorts down to your knees."
"Such sweet nothings you murmur," she muttered. The vinyl seat was chilly against her ass. She waited patiently for her master to order her to masturbate.
"Put your hands on the armrests." Once she did, some sort of adhesive affect latched them in place. She tugged, but she couldn't move either hand.
"How am I supposed to-?" Before she could finish speaking, two hands gently stroked her hair. They grabbed her as she started to turn to see who it was.
"Don't look around," Carl ordered.
- 4
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- 6
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.Stopover in a little louder town