New Story: The Adjusters #58

Ouch, busier week than expected—sorry about that. But here is February's installment of The Adjusters, “Intermezzo: Eve Shawbank", wherein we hang out with our favorite ADCorp agent, and finally meet with a shadowy figure.

As usual, comments welcome.

I'll also remind you that we have a Speculation Thread available for general discussion. (A thread which I read but do not comment on.)


The Adjusters #58 - Intermezzo: Eve Shawbank

Eve Shawbank sat at table in the back of the restaurant, away from the few other patrons, savoring what she considered the best gulyás in the city, thick and meaty, the csipetke perfectly cooked. Gulyás, of all things, was what reminded her of home the most, for better or for worse.

She pressed her thighs together. She was aroused. It had been building up for the past few hours, and she was looking forward to later in the evening, when she could give free reign to her lust. It had been a while.

The restaurant was quiet this evening, the way it often was in the middle of the way, and the way she liked it. The owner, an older Hungarian man called Bognár, barely spoke English and spent most of his days—when he was not cooking—sitting in a corner of the restaurant with equally ancient friends and watching European football games on a flat-screen television against the wall, the only concession to modernity in the small rustic Hungarian restaurant.

She loved the food, but she felt that tinge of anxiety that always bit at her conscious mind whenever she was here. The answer, should Shawbank have chosen to think about it for more than a second, would have been obvious to her. Between the gulyás and the atmosphere, this place was a bubble that held the essence of her youth, the essence of her home, and it was her home, even though she had not been there for a long time, that she bore no desire to return, that as far as she was concerned it was earth she had scorched when Davenham had found her so long ago and brought her back with him.

But it was home—her roots. And roots ran deep. And while the conscious mind may hate something with a burning passion, the subconscious may long for that same something with a searing ache.

Shawbank count not put words to her feelings, but part of her wished she could take Magenta, her trusty hunting knife, and hack that part of her to shreds.

She would laugh doing so.

Laugh and laugh, the way her father used to.

She stopped herself when she realized she was clenching her spoon hard enough to hurt her fingers.

Relax, she told herself. It’s all good.

“What THE FUCK is this SZAR?”

Continue reading...

Next month: “Intermezzo: The Medicine Man”.

Update on The Adjusters #58

It should drop this weekend—a couple of things I need to make sure I get right.

In the meantime, to remain in the spirit of the wife sharing stories I've been pointing out these last few weeks (it's my mood these days, I guess), I'll note that Xleglover has finally pushed the concluding chapter of his long long saga that started back when with He Fucked My Girl and just ended with Life After We. The story as a whole is pretty good, with some delightfully hot scenes—though I admit that it sort of dips there in the middle. And I would have loved to see a bit more dominant behavior from that guy Clint at the end.

If wife sharing's not your cup of joe, then have a look at The Bitch, by Mister NiceGuy: “Boy meets girl. Girl is gorgeous. Boy is a nerd. Boy asks girl out. Boy is rejected. Boy plots revenge. But when he gets the perfect chance to take that revenge, he can't do it. What she gives him, ultimately, is far more worthwhile.” It's so clearly wish fulfillment that it borders on parody, but there's a story, and there's sex, and the grammar is decent. (Yes, I know, my bar is low.)