The Supefem Chronicles, Greg and Megan's Story
By Helplesscase
Part 2


This series is taken from the setting of Little Baby Daddy II, written by
Puppetman. I didn't use any of the characters from the story, just the setting
as a launching point for some ideas I had.

PART II

Megan graduated from high school and married her sweetheart, Greg. He built a
small house on the eastern shore of the island, where it had a beautiful view
of the sunrise. It also happened to be near the police station where Greg
worked.

Greg loved working at the police station. It was a natural fit for him. He had
the physical stature and also the respect around the island to handle disputes
that came up from time to time.

Megan didn't have a job per-say, but she did volunteer at the Island's main
library. She loved to read, and she enjoyed getting out of the house for at
least a few hours every day. Megan yearned to make more of herself. She wanted
to contribute to something big, and push herself intellectually. But she knew
her husband wanted nothing more for her then to stay home and take care of the
house.

When the couple had their first child, a boy named Ryan, Megan had to quit
volunteering so she could stay home with her son. Megan really missed the
library, but she knew this was her role in life. Greg had made it clear he
didn't like the idea of a babysitter looking after his son when his perfectly
healthy wife was the best person for the job. Of course, this meant that she
was stuck at home by herself almost all the time. Greg didn't really like to
spend his weekends socializing with her friends, so she lost contact with
them. On weeknights Greg liked to go out with the guys from the station for a
few hours. On Saturdays he liked to stay in with Megan at home. Sometimes on
Sundays Megan could sweet talk Greg into letting her take Ryan over to Nina's
for an hour or two. Nina had two kids but one of them had a sickness, so Greg
didn't like his son being around them much. He would say, "I don't want my son
getting any of that weakness in his blood." Greg had this way of raising his
left eyebrow and cocking his head whenever he said anything particularly
ignorant. Megan argued with logic over and over again, but it always ended
with "I'm the head of the household. And I don't need a smart-ass wife trying
to undermine me." God how that made her angry, but what could she do? He was
right. He was the head of the household. What he said went.

Megan tried to get Greg to spend more time taking care of his son himself, but
he didn't want to have anything to do with diapers and bottles. He just raised
his eyebrow and cocked his head, declaring his role was to provide a roof over
their head. Her role was to take care of the household and the kids. Greg
would teach his son to play various sports, but he wasn't old enough for that
stuff yet.

Although she loved her son deeply, Megan felt completely isolated from all
other adults. She became lonely and depressed. She tried to talk to Greg about
it, but he couldn't understand what would be so depressing about raising their
son.

"He's your own flesh and blood. What else could make you happier then raising
him to manhood? Don't you love your own child?" Megan told herself that he was
right. It hurt to hear him accuse her of not loving Ryan, but if she didn't
like being home with her son all day, she must be a bad mother. Why would she
want something more? After all, her husband worked hard to take care of her
and give her the things they needed. Megan forced herself to get dressed in
time for her husband to get home each day. She tried to put on the outward
appearance of normalcy as best she could.

However, as soon as Ryan was old enough for pre-school she entered him and
began volunteering again at the library while he was at school. Greg noticed
the difference in her personality as her emotional health improved again.
However, he didn't question it, he just enjoyed it. Her happier moods really
seemed to increase his sexual desire for her. He said it was time for another
baby, but Megan secretly took herbs to avoid another pregnancy.

Although Megan knew Greg was happy with their sex life, she couldn't have been
more frustrated with it. He didn't seem to care if she even enjoyed it
anymore. Once in a while he would come home drunk and wake her up. His heavy
body and hot smelly breath used to make her feel sick to her stomach. A few
times when he was drunk she begged him to stop, but he ignored her. She
decided it wasn't rape, since she was his wife, but it made her feel unloved.
She cried herself to sleep those nights. Eventually she stopped making any
requests at all about sex. She would let him get it over with as soon as
possible.

Ten more years went by, and the family had gotten into a routine. Ryan was
entering 5th grade, and he had just joined a flag football team that Greg was
coaching. Greg had made police chief already at the age of 30. Megan had
expanded her role at the library too, but she kept quiet about it. She didn't
want to make Greg think her work was turning into too much responsibility. She
knew she could handle the household and her work at the library too.

Things were going great. So that fall, when Megan's period was a few weeks
late, she tried not to worry too much. It had happened before. But another
week later, she found out she was with child again. Greg was overjoyed at the
news. He had thought there must have been something wrong. After all, it had
taken 10 more years to have another baby, but the miracle was occurring again
for them.

Megan did her best to act excited, but she didn't know how she was going to
handle the isolation of another baby. She had secretly tried her best to make
a pregnancy impossible, but it had happened anyway.

During the day she sewed small socks and bibs, but some nights she pretended
to be sick so she could weep quietly in her bed, not wanting to face her
husband. She was terrified of the depression she would have to fight, and she
knew her husband would not help her. She resented her situation, she resented
herself, but most of all she felt herself resenting Greg. He made her feel so
alone sometimes. She knew it would pass, but she couldn't help it. Nine months
later, on June 18 a healthy baby girl named Clara was born.

Late one night, Greg was driving home when he was called to a family dispute.
He recognized the address right away. He had been there several times before,
and it was a sad case. It was always the same story. He'd get there, and a
young woman would always have a bruise or cut on her face.

The battered woman's husband would always be somewhere in the back of the
house raving, and ranting, while the poor woman cried for us to take him away.
But before we ever left the house she would change her mind and not press
charges. It was so frustrating for Greg, that he could hardly bring himself to
go to the house again. Why wouldn't she just press charges? He had heard the
argument 100 times. "The island is too small to get away from an abusive man."
He didn't buy it. If she wanted to get away bad enough she could. The police
would look after her.

Greg drove up to the house, but it was strangely quiet. The woman was nowhere
to be seen, and the house was completely dark. Cautiously he approached the
door, which was slightly open. He called into the house and pushed the door
open further. Suddenly, he felt a large hand grip his wrist, and yank him
through the door way. He stumbled forward, surprised at the force. He whirled
around to meet his attacker, but before he could complete his turn he felt two
hands grab his shoulders and force his body the other way. Air was suddenly
knocked out of his lungs, and he found his head jammed into something
painfully tight. He wasn't sure what. He swung wildly, and felt his fist wedge
into something very tight. He yelped, in spite of himself, as his head and arm
were suddenly being crushed, then all went black.

Greg tried to open his eyes. There was a white light that seemed to stab into
the back of his head, even though his eyelids were still slits. He heard some
voices nearby. One of them sounded like his wife so he forced his eyes all the
way open. His vision was blurry, but he could make out two figures. The taller
one was dressed in white. The shorter one was wearing darker clothes.

"Honey, is that you?" His voice sounded raspy.

"Baby, you're finally awake." The darker figure sat on the bed next to him and
began running her fingers through his hair. Greg's eyes were already
adjusting. He could now start make out the features of her face.

"What happened? Am I in the hospital? Somebody jumped me at the Williams'
house. Did the boys get there in time to nail whoever it was?

"Oh honey." His wife hesitated as if she didn't know what to say.

"Did someone get hurt?"

"No no. Everyone is okay. Everyone is fine."

"Then what's going on?!"

"Well, he sounds like he's getting back to normal." A low female voice
chuckled from over his wife's shoulder. A woman stepped into his view. She
still seemed far away, when her hand extended and touched his forehead. I can
run some tests for you Mrs.Wilson, but it seems your husband is fine. He may
be a little sore for another day or so. The agent mentioned that he put up
quite a fight. That was why she had to use such a large dose tranquilizer on
him before he hurt himself." The woman who spoke was dressed in white and
appeared to be a doctor. She leaned in closer and gently grabbed his jaw. She
guided him to look her in the eyes. Her fingers seemed to engulf almost his
entire head. What was going on? He reached up and grabbed her wrist to pull
her hand down.

"Just a moment sir. Don't worry, I won't hurt you." She smiled to assure him.
"I'm only checking the dilation of your pupils."

Greg realized his fingers were gripping a forearm that was as thicker then his
own, and if felt very solid to the touch. She withdrew her hand, and he let
go, watching how the arm looked sleek and feminine despite its thickness. His
wife stood up, and he suddenly realized through his cloudy mind how tall the
doctor was. "I'm sure he's fine Mrs. Wilson. Your chaperone is downstairs.
I'll let her know you're ready to go."

Megan didn't watch the woman leave. She was watching the distraught expression
on her husband's face instead. "Greg, we're not on the island anymore."

"What?" His voice uttered disbelief but Megan could tell it made sense to him.

"They came and got us last night honey. They started with the police force. By
the end of today the entire population of the island will be gone."

"What? How?" Greg tried to sit up too quickly and felt a piercing pain through
his abdomen. He realized he must have pulled some muscles.

Megan went on to explain everything just as it had been explained to her. She
explained how the government had concluded there was enough evidence to site
the island as a threat against the U.S. mainland. She told him that the
government categorized SNOW as a cult. And then she explained that there were
some individuals on the island who had apparently been linked to terrorist
acts against certain women's groups. Although the government knew Greg and
Megan were innocent, they were going put them though a program similar to the
witness relocation program. They would never be allowed to return to the
island again, and they would not be allowed to communicate with others from
the island as a matter of national security. A retired volunteer was there to
take them in as an act of charity until they could get on her feet.

Greg got dressed and they made their way to the lobby. He felt strangely
apathetic toward the entire situation. Another towering woman in white, a
nurse, had mentioned this would be the case as he left the room. Apparently
the drug would last for a few hours or so.

The older woman waiting for them in the lobby was named Connie. She was
probably 3" taller then Greg, which didn't seem like much compared to the two
women he had just stood next to on the elevator. She was a little old lady
compared to them. Greg shook her hand, and it was warm, but steely hard. Her
smile seemed to match her hand shake. She was very polite but there was
caution in her eyes as she introduced herself to him. When they reached her
car there was a man waiting for them in the back seat. He looked rather old
and frail. Greg found myself somewhat ushered by Connie into the backseat as
well. When they all got in, Connie announced that their children were waiting
for them at home, in the care of one of her good friends.

Once they were on the road, Greg realized that the jazz playing through the
back seat's speakers was too loud for him to hear what the women in the front
seat were saying. For a few minutes he watched their body language. Connie was
acting very warmly toward his wife. He watched her touch Megan's shoulder
softly while she spoke. The shared a couple of laughs early on, and Greg could
see them both relaxing.

Connie had short brown hair that matched her brown eyes perfectly. Greg could
see that it was dyed that way, based on her silver roots. Her short hair
looked like it had spent the afternoon in curlers. She wore a conservative
blouse and baggy slacks. She dressed the part of an older woman, but her skin
and posture left her looking closer to 45.

Greg turned to the older man who had been quiet the whole time. "Hello sir. My
name is Greg."

"I'm George." The man responded.

There were a few more minutes of silence. Greg wasn't sure what to say. "So,
this is a little awkward. I'm sure there are things you would like to ask me."
The man just looked at him funny and shrugged. At that point, Connie seemed to
catch wind of our conversation. She turned the radio down and called over her
shoulder. "Georgie, this is Megan and Greg. They will be staying with us for a
little while."

"Okay honey." The man just looked docilely forward. Greg looked at the sloped
neck and slouched, tired looking shoulders of the old man. Certainly this was
Connie's husband, but he looked like he was about 30 years older then her.

Connie's house was large and very modern. Greg followed Connie though the
wide, 9 foot tall door into a large entry-way with a 14 foot ceiling. Ryan ran
up to Greg and gave him a big hug. A middle aged man was standing in the
entryway holding Greg's baby girl Clara. He handed her over to Megan. Connie
introduced the man as her housemate, Steven. The man smiled and said a brief
hello. He looked like a decent guy to Greg, if not a bit timid. Steven excused
himself almost right away and went to the back of the house.

Over the next two days Greg and his family only left the house one time.
Connie had connections to a small private school only a few blocks away. She
had promised them that Ryan would adjust more easily in that school system,
and was nice enough to set up an interview with the head principal. Greg and
Megan decided to walk by the school to get some air. Greg's drugs had worn off
and he really needed to clear his head.

It was a large stately looking building, nestled into one square block of the
neighborhood. It looked nice enough to Greg. School was just letting out for
the day when the couple reached the corner past the school. A tall girl in an
orange crossing guard sash was standing on the corner motioning for the
smaller children to wait before crossing. Greg knew by the girl's checkered
skirt and white blouse that she was a student. He hadn't realized that there
was a high school as well. Grabbing his wife's hand he began to cross the
intersection.

"Hold on a second." The girl called to them.

"Its okay, we're adults honey." Greg called over his shoulder. He heard some
quick footfalls and a long arm crossed in front of him."

"I said hold on a second."

"Don't worry about it. We know how to cross the street." Greg chuckled, trying
not to show his annoyance. He tried to take a step forward but the girl
surprised him. She reached around him and hugged him tightly. "Let go! I'm not
a kid!" He squirmed and tried to break free. He jerked down on her arms,
pulling them loose. But her hands caught each other as her arms separated and
she used the leverage to bring her hands into his stomach. The heels of her
hands drove deeply into his stomach. He doubled over a little but he forced
himself to hide the pain. He felt himself being pulled back to the corner. He
tried to get control, but her arms felt like cables cutting into his arms. He
looked down and saw well defined biceps that looked like baseballs pressing
deeply into his arms. He flexed as hard as he could, but even though his
muscles were bigger they didn't budge her grip. Her arms were probably less
then half the size of his but they felt like steel. "Let me go!" He grunted.

"Will you behave?" Her chin was resting on his shoulder. Her loud voice
sounded annoyed but only a little strained.

"Okay." He submitted. She let go, and Greg quickly sucked in a badly needed
lung full of oxygen. He didn't allow himself the pleasure of putting his hands
on his knees. He refused to show any more strain then he absolutely had to.
The girl began talking to his wife. He glanced again at the girl's arms. They
weren't that big, they were maybe half the size of his. Man, what kind of
screwed up world was this?

Megan watched the scene unfold with awe. Greg's face was beet red. The young
student turned to Megan and asked what grade she was in. Megan looked at the
young face, scowling at her with a mouthful of braces. Then Megan realized,
suddenly self consciously, that she probably did look like a young girl in
this world. After all, she was about 4 inches shorter then this crossing
guard. "Um, I'm not in school." She tried to sound confident but she wasn't
sure it worked.

"Oh." The crossing guard eyed her suspiciously but apparently believed her.
Glancing back at Greg she continued. "If he doesn't settle down I'm still
going to have to tell my teacher on him."

Megan looked at the girl's arms. A long vein stood out along the upper part.
It made her think about the way she had so easily contained her husband. Megan
felt a tingling. "Oh, which teacher it that?"

"Mrs. Perkins. She teaches 6th grade girls."

A 6th grader just manhandled my 6 foot 200 lb husband! "You're in 6th grade?"
Megan gasped. The girl's face started to look calmer. "What's your name?"
Megan continued.

"Chrissy." The girl responded.

"Wow that's a pretty name!"

"Really?" The girl relaxed a little.

"How old are you Chrissy?"

"I'm 12. How old are you?"

"32."

"Why are you so small?" The girl asked the question and then realized it was
probably inappropriate. She looked down at her feet and twisted her toe into
the ground in embarrassment. "I'm sorry."

"No, that's fine. I'm not from around here. I'm average sized where I come
from."

"Oh." The girl looked puzzled but didn't ask any more questions. She turned
and walked to the middle of the intersection and then waived the kids to
cross. As Megan and Greg passed he avoided looking at her, but she was glaring
at him shamelessly. The look from that powerful but very young girl gave Megan
the chills. She didn't feel protected by her husband anymore. Once they
crossed the street, Greg turned to her and growled "Not a word." They
continued the rest of the walk silently.

That night Megan confided the story about their trip to Connie. Connie looked
her dead in the eye. "You know what has to happen, Megan."

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean sweetie. You can not function in today's world with your
old ways."

"I have to join the Superfem program." Megan answered. The older woman nodded.
Megan felt a thrill run through her body but she forced it back down inside.
"But Greg will never allow it."

"The decision is yours to make honey. Greg will have to come to terms with
that."

"How will I break it to him? He will be irate!"

"Don't say anything right away. This will work itself out honey." The kindly
woman hugged Megan warmly and she felt much better.

That afternoon, Connie took Megan and Greg over to a computer and showed them
something called the internet. They never had such a thing back on the island,
but apparently it was common here. Greg was uncomfortable with the computer,
but Megan had used one at the library before, so she navigated the sites.

Connie had links to her favorite sites on the screen so Megan clicked on one.
It was a news site. The front page headline read: President Wynona Drummond
Signs New Health Care Bill. "Wow, a woman president." Megan found herself
saying.

"Click on something else." Greg mumbled.

She clicked on another link. It was apparently a sports link. A picture
appeared of a woman dunking a basketball. The caption read 8'2 Lisa Lopez
stands tall over the competition. Below contained an interview with the
player.

Q: Lisa, as you know, there is some controversy around basketball right now.
Many say scoring is too easy. What do you think?

A: I can see their point. I wouldn't have a problem if the league raising the
rim some more. I mean at 12 feet there aren't a lot of girls in the WBA who
can't dunk these days. I don't know what else can be done. I've heard
suggestions about making the ball heavier, but then there are safety issues. I
mean what if a gentleman catches a blocked shot in the head?

Q: Some have suggested requiring men to sit beyond a certain row. What do you
think about that idea?

A: I've heard that too. But I think most fans like to have their

boyfriends and husbands in the front with them too. I just don't

think it's very realistic.

"BORING!" Greg spouted. Megan sighed and clicked another link. She was
starting to get annoyed already. As soon as she clicked the next link some
sort of add popped up on the screen.

So you've given him every brand of pill on the market but he's still barely an
appetizer. A picture of an exotically featured woman in a robe was sitting at
a breakfast table holding a small sausage link in her finger tips. She was
looking at the sausage with a melancholy expression. A man was sitting across
from her with a robe on as well. He was looking full of shame as he looked on
at the sausage she was holding. Megan clicked on the image. You deserve much
more! The photo was then replaced with the same woman. Only this time she was
holding a large smoked sausage at the end of a fork. She had a pleased
expression on her face and the man was slouched back in his chair with a tired
look on his face. At the bottom of the screen ad were some testimonials.

"It was the best decision I ever made" Clare, Arkansas

"I'm going to write my Congresswoman. Every man should have this

procedure by law! Marie, New York

"What is this crap! Isn't there anything useful on the internet?" Greg was
getting very upset. He didn't want his wife reading this stuff!

"Greg." Connie walked up behind them. "Why don't you let Megan use the
computer by herself for a while. You can use it later." He felt her hands
slide over his shoulders and grip him like two vices.

"Fine. Whatever." Greg got up and stomped off to his room. It reminded Megan
of her son Ryan when he didn't get his way.

Greg heard giggling coming from the living room. He walked in and saw several
girls sitting on the couches. He recognized their uniforms right away from
that private school down the street. They were chattering away, like school
girls do. As soon as they saw him they all stopped and stared at him. One girl
stood up, and Greg saw that it was the crossing guard from earlier. She
frowned at him and said "You owe me an apology."

"What? No I don't."

The girl stepped closer. Was she taller then him now? Greg backpedaled, but
felt hands stop him. He turned and realized that there were now more girls
standing behind him. They looked almost as tall as the crossing guard. He
turned back again around. Now she was on her knees in front of the coffee
table. Her elbow was on the table. "Okay Mr. Tough-guy, let's arm-wrestle. If
you win, you don't have to say you're sorry, and you can cross the street
whenever you want." She smiled up at him wryly. Her metal covered teeth
gleamed at him.

Greg knelt on the other side of the coffee table. The other girls crowded
around. He took the crossing guard's hand and her fingers clamped around his.
She looked to a few girls on her left and said, "This reminds me of when I
taught my daddy his first lesson." She looked back at Greg. Her dimpled smile
and smooth skin gave away her age. She looked Greg in the eye. "That was last
year, in 5th grade. I've taught lots to daddy since then." The girl reached
down with her free hand and rolled her sleeve up so Greg could see her biceps.
She flexed, making it bulge and tighten. Greg saw it grow before his eyes like
someone had just breathed air into a balloon. He suddenly felt so weak. Then
Greg could see her fingers readjusting around his hand. "Mom says winning is
all in the grip." Her fingers closed tighter. Her smile got bigger. Her
fingers kept closing tighter. His hand and fingers were getting so compressed
that he couldn't even grip her hand back anymore. Her fingers closed even
tighter. The ends of his fingers now just stuck out of the other side of her
fist like a handful of red crayons. The girl turned to someone. "Say go." Greg
glanced over to see his wife, Megan. Her green eyes flashed excitement as she
said "Go!" Greg looked back at the crossing guard. She had her chin resting in
her free hand as if she were bored. She smiled smugly as she brought his arm
easily down to the table. He couldn't even twist her wrist. He heard laughter.
He looked over at his wife who was laughing as well. The girl let go of his
crushed hand and stood up to the cheers. Greg's hand did not return to its
normal shape. His fingers still splayed out uselessly, and his palm was as
narrow as his wrist. "Look what you've done!" Greg screeched. He felt himself
give in to the helplessness. He looked up at the girls around him. They were
taller now. He barely came up past their waists. He started bawling. He looked
at his wife, but she was laughing along with the other girls. She was even
taller then him now. He turned to run away but slammed into something. He
looked up and saw Connie. She reached down and pulled him off his feet. Her
hands were huge as she held him. "Did Greggy fall down? Come on, nana will
take care of you." The woman scooped him up and carried him through the
laughing crowd, back into his room. She shut the door and sat down with him on
her lap. The sound of the girls outside laughing died off. Greg tried to
squirm away, but the old woman's arms were as long as his body. She easily
cradled him tightly against her. Her face suddenly turned sad. "Honey, I think
you know you won't make it here. This will be for the best." She brought one
of her giant hands up to Greg's face and covered his mouth and nose with it.
Immediately he began to struggle, but he couldn't move.

"Shh. It'll be over soon young man."

With one last extraordinary effort to twist free, Greg suddenly found himself
tumbling from his bed. He scrambled against the back wall, panting and
sweating. Slowly he realized that the room was empty. It had all been a dream.
Greg took some precious deep breaths, then looked at his hand and saw that it
was fine. After a few minutes he stood back up and called quietly for his
wife, but she wasn't there. It was the middle of the night, where was she?

Greg opened the door to his room and crept down the hallway. He could see
light down the hall and hear some soft voices. As he got near the end of the
hall, he stopped and listed. He could clearly distinguish the soft high voice
of his wife and the slightly deeper and louder voice of Connie.

"Just come to the gym with me tomorrow Megan. I'll introduce you to some great
girls who can answer all your questions."

"Okay. But what will Greg say? I don't want to lie to him, and he won't let me
go there if I tell him."

"Don't worry about Greg, sweetie. I promise he won't be a problem."

Greg snuck back to his bed with his head spinning. A few minutes later his
wife snuck in. Greg pretended to sleep, but he didn't fall back asleep that
night.

Greg had decided he would pull his wife aside the next morning when he could
talk to her personally. But he never had a chance. Megan was still sleeping at
8:00am when there was a knock at the door.

"Yes?" Greg called out.

"Umm. Sorry to wake you up, Mr. Wilson. Is your wife awake?" A female voice
called from the other side of the door. Greg could tell the voice wasn't
Connie's.

"Yes." The groggy voice of his wife called out.

"My name is Jill. I'm your case worker. Again, I'm sorry for waking you up,
but I have a busy schedule. Would you two mind getting dressed quickly and
meeting me in the living room?" They both got up without a word. Greg had a
strong feeling that Megan was avoiding eye contact with him.

Ten minutes later, the couple entered the living room and met the woman. Megan
shook the woman's hand, but Greg didn't bother. He was in a sour mood. The
woman was sleek looking in her skirt and vest. Her soft brown hair was parted
down the middle and partially tucked behind her ears, where it stopped just
below her jaw line. Her thick rimmed glasses gave her a brainy look, but Greg
could tell by her soft firm looking skin and bright eyes that she was no older
then 25.

"Well Mrs. Wilson, I have the results of your placement test. You will be
pleased to hear that you tested very well. I think we have a great job for
you. It won't pay much at first, but it has great opportunity for advancement.
Megan was clearly glowing with excitement.

"What test, when did you take a test, Megan?!" Greg asked in surprise.

"I took it while you were still knocked out, the first day we got here."

"I have a test for you too, Mr. Wilson." The woman turned to Megan. I can give
you the details later over the phone, if you would like. That way your husband
can get started on his test."

"Sure, that sounds fine."

"In that case, why don't you come along with me Megan?" Connie was standing by
the door with a sweat suit on. She was holding a gym bag in her hand.

"Sure Connie, why not."

As the two women left, Greg called after her. "Megan. I know where you're
going. Don't think we aren't going to talk about this, girly!" Greg could feel
the heat radiating from his face. He saw Megan's face flush but she left
without a word. Greg turned back to Jill. Her lips were pursed and she was
scribbling notes in a folder. "What are you writing in there?"

"Nothing, Mr. Wilson. Why don't you just fill out this form." She handed him a
two page sheet. He began filling it out and realized it was not much more then
a typical job application. Not unlike something he filled out to work as a kid
for summer jobs.

"Is this the same form Megan filled out?"

"She filled out the female version, sir." Greg knew what she meant by 'sir'.

Greg completed the application and handed it back to her. She looked at it in
front of him, and began to write notes. "I see you were a police officer."

"That's right. I was police chief actually."

The young woman couldn't hide the smirk on her face. "Well, that certainly
won't suit you anymore. I think I can find something to start you with."

"Look. You may think you can control me and my wife, but you don't know my
family. You are trying to take my control from me, but you can't. I am the
head of my household and that will never change. My wife knows better then to
cross me." Greg felt the steam blowing off as he spoke.

"Really." The woman stood up slowly, not taking her brown eyes from his.
Suddenly Greg felt a little different. Greg stood as well, and regretted it.
He found himself craning his head to meet her gaze. Even at 6'0", she was more
then a foot taller then him. bsilently at him for several seconds. Greg knew
she was trying to intimidate him, and he started to feel it working. "Mr.
Wilson, I recommend you immediately begin to hold your wife in higher esteem."
With that, she reached into her purse and pulled out a mobile phone. "Sandy?
Yes. I have to hurry though or I'll miss my next appointment." Then Jill shut
the phone, turned and fished though her folder. She pulled out a sheet of
paper and handed it to Greg. The first thing he noticed was his wife's
signature at the bottom. "Mr. Wilson, I suggest you read this when you have
time." Then there was a knock at the door. Jill opened the door and woman
entered. She walked directly up to Greg and stopped only inches from him. Jill
let out a sigh and said, "This is Sandy. She will escort you to your temporary
home." Sandy was wearing a polo style shirt that appeared to have a company
logo on it. He thought it read Malecare. Although the shirt was already
designed for a large person, her hulking shoulders, bulging chest and massive
arms stretched the fabric. Her middle aged face looked tight as she leaned
even closer to him. Her long spiraled blond hair brushed his cheek she stood
so close.

"You have ten minutes to pack Mr. Wilson." Sandy stated. Her tuna fish breath
made him reel a little.

"But my wife is gone, and I can't get my kids ready that fast." Greg found
himself pleading into the nape of Sandy's thick neck.

"Don't worry about that. They'll be fine." Her voice was flat and matter of
fact. Her crystal blue eyes were intense, and her slow deep breaths made her
nostrils flare. The big man had never felt more intimidated. This woman was a
monster. Ten minutes later he was packed. Sandy was never more then 3 feet
away from him. He didn't even get to say goodbye to his kids, who were still
in bed. Jill told him Steven would look after them. He was ushered into a
sedan and driven away.

Greg was alone in the car with the hulking blond woman. Her triceps formed
into carved marble as she gripped the wheel. Greg could see that her upper arm
was roughly as thick as his upper leg. There was a long moment of tension
before she broke the silence. "Okay cowboy. Let's get an understanding between
us. I know you came from some sort of secluded island. I know you were king
shit where you came from. I know you are a virgin to the real world. Well
guess what? I'm the one who's going to pop your cherry honey. I'm your new
case manager. That means you belong to me." They drove in silence for another
minute or two. "Jill told me you have some pretty big britches." Slowly and
deliberately she reached over and rested her hand on Greg's knee. The heat of
it reminded him it was not a dream. Greg didn't try to move it. "Now I can be
nice enough to boys who know how to behave. Or if you cause me trouble can
pluck your arms off like the pedals of a daisy. Do we have an understanding?"

"Y-yes." Greg said in shock.

"Call me Ms. Sandy."

"Yes Ms. Sandy."

"Any questions?" She waited for a few seconds. "Good." Her gargantuan forearm
twitched and Greg almost jumped out of his seat. He thought she was going to
clamp down on his knee. But she just patted his leg and reached back over to
the steering wheel, chuckling.

The two ladies walked into the house, giggling like school girls. Megan was so
excited, she couldn't wait to start. The ladies down at the workout center
were so nice to her. They made her feel right at home. Megan couldn't help but
feel that tingling inside when she imagined herself lifting those heavy
weights. Connie continued to be so kind to her too. She had even bought her
some workout clothes while they were there. Connie had treated her like a
little sister ever since they first met. Megan's smiled faded a little when
she noticed that the house was quiet. "Where are the kids?"

"Oh, I asked Steven to take them to the park for the day. They really have fun
with Steven, you know. And I thought it would be easier."

Megan felt a wave of guilt, but Connie seemed to read her mind. "Don't worry
Meg. This is the best way. Your husband is in great hands. They will help him
figure things out."

"But what if he needs me?"

"He does need you sweetie. He needs you to be strong for him, and let him
adjust. You have to focus on yourself and your kids right now. Don't forget
the plan."

"But what are the people like there?"

"They are all professionals there only to help him. You know, that's how I met
Steven."

"Oh really?"

"Some of the men at these halfway houses are reformed men from correctional
facilities, some are widowers, and some are divorcees."

"Correctional facilities?"

Connie giggled. "Don't worry, Meg. They are completely reformed men who need a
new start. What they all have in common is that they would be homeless without
the support of the volunteers who take them in. They give a man who is down on
his luck a chance to earn his keep and get on his feet. An eligible woman will
take a poor soul in and give them a fresh start at life. Its really a
beautiful gift."

"You make it sound a little like foster homes for adult men."

"I suppose in a way, they are."

"Why did you adopt Steven - that is if you don't mind me asking?"

Connie chuckled and led her to a window overlooking the back yard. There in
the back was her husband Ted, picking some weeds out of a flowerbed. "I love
Georgie with all my heart." She tapped on the glass. The man heard the noise,
looked up, and smiled when he saw it was Connie and Megan. Connie waved and
the man waved back. "But look at him, Megan. If took him into my bed he would
break like a potato chip." Megan watched the man lower his bony hand back to
his work. Connie's words made her shiver.

"That's a blunt way to put it, Connie."

"It may sound harsh, but its true. I'm 61, and Georgie's 63 this year. We've
been married for 41 years, and nobody can take that away from us. But I still
workout and run 5 miles every day. I'm as healthy as a horse, and still nearly
as strong as one. Poor Steven can't even satisfy me some nights. Believe me, I
take good care of Georgie, and he's happy."