Mutant Lust Chimer Ch. 5 -Team Building Exercises

>Melanie steadied one end of the bowl on the counter, Ace the other.  You whisked the batter inside.  Previously you used such teamwork out of physical necessity, but right now it tantamount to holding your sanity together.  You all stared at the swirling waffle mix with tight-lipped gravity.
"Oh, this is fun.  This is normal!  Yup.  Everything is perfectly fine because it's all of us working on a project.  Whisk whisk whisk.  Cook cook cook.  Ace, don't you think this is fun?"
>Ace nods with the same pained grind of a mother whose child asked if Daddy was coming back from overseas any day soon.  Her voice emerges word by word.
"So...what are -you- thinking about, guy?"
>You watch the whisk spin around the bowl like a ship stuck in a whirlpool.  "Probably the exact same thing you're thinking about." Her ear ticks like a clock's second hand.
"Revenge, then."
>"A big fat angry bag of revenge.  Maybe even vengeance.  I'm not picky."  The heat of your combined rage was almost enough to cook the batter.  The muscles in your fore arms tensed and teetered on snapping the whisk in half.  "Soooo.  Shit.  Revenge.  Justice."
"Violence."
"Do we have to talk about this now?  You're dripping the waffle mix everywhere."
>Your hatreds dial back into a controlled simmer.  "It's ready."  The three of you toy with the waffle iron and carefully pour the batter into the heated stainless-steel.  Melanie looks between you and Ace.  It wasn't clear if the waffle iron was powered by electricity or raw anger.   She coughs lightly, tossing a coin to break the flat lake of stewing anger.
"If it's revenge you want, we can't do it on an empty stomach.  I wouldn't mind giving her a good what-for and making her put us back together, but it'll do us no good at all just to stand around here and look mad."  She taps her hooves on the floor.  "Or to stand around crying all day."  She sniffles a bit.  "As much we might want too..."
"She's right."
"Yes.  I am right, and it's nice that I'm right, because me being right means that we all still get to eat together at least.  We can smile about that, right?  Right.  Because I'm right.  Right?"
>You flip the waffle iron over.
>"Um.  Sure.  Yeah, that makes sense."  God, you're starving.  Without question the girls are starving.  One look at their quivering noses and all the chop-licking in the direction of the waffle iron is enough confirmation.  "Kay.  We're going to do breakfast and -oh guys, please, PLEASE look happy or that chick outside is going to beat my ass raw with that bat."  Ace snickers.
"Come on buddy, as if we'd just stand by while you get wailed on."
"I just can't stand the thought of someone hurting you."  Melanie shudders.   "Makes me hurt just thinking about it."
"Yeah me too.  Think that's, like, residual or something?"
>"I'd say so.  One hoof of ours would get stubbed and we'd all start crying."  You pause.  "Hooves...that I no longer have..."  You shuffle your feet uselessly.
"Or share..."
"Shh, shh, happy breakfast, remember?"
>You and Ace snap out of it  "Hey look waffle is done!  Fuck yeah, awesome waffles, woo woo woo!"
"Woo!"
"Radical!"
>You make as many waffles as possible, devoting all your thought and focus into it, because God help all of you if you think of anything else.
>The trio of you-that-used-to-be-you sits at a table overlaid with a blue and white criss-cross cloth.  The plates barely touch the table before muzzles dig greedily into the food.   Not that you have any room to talk.  Forks become optional for the morning.  Waffle in hand and syrup directly in mouth, that's the order of the day.
>The frenzy is soon over, and there's still food to spare.  You all look quizzicaly between each other.
"I think I got full too fast.  Am I broken?"
"We're all broken."
>"No," you wave Ace quiet.  "You're just...smaller than we used to be.  And, oh god I ate too fast, buddha help me.  Uh yeah, damn we lost some mass."  You look at the stack of food.  Were the trio of you really such fatties that you could down that much food so easily?  Wow.  You were champs.  "So we need to eat less.  That's a good thing."  Which was a lie of course.  Nothing about this was a good thing.
"Can we talk about revenge yet?"
>"Yes."
"No!"
>"Why noooot?" you whined.  Melanie rubbed her tummy.
"Because...because we don't talk about business until 10 A.M.! That's how it was at the house."
>"It's 2:36 P.M."
"That means we have to wait until tomorrow morning then.  10 to 6 Monday through Friday.  That's our hours of operation.  No plotting.  It'll just upset us, and we're plenty upset right now.  No good getting upset on a full stomach."
>She crossed her hooves and almost tipped out of her chair.
"See?  I'm getting all wobbly just thinking about it!"
"Melanie, are you okay?"
>She put her hooves on the table.
"I'm fine.  I'll be okay.  Promise.  Let's just us take it easy.  We're not -us- right now.  I don't think it's a good idea to rush anything."
>Her nose quivered.
"We're not even too sure where we are right now..."
>Ace craned her head in circles, taking note of the cottage for the first time it seemed.
"Huh, we sure don't.  Damn, she's probably right.  I feel like I'm going to lock myself in a room and have a screaming fit any minute now, we should just chill.  Until we have a better idea of how the hell our situation looks."
>You lean back and sigh both from gut-busting fullness and mental fatigue.  You were outvoted and going against your small circle of democracy did not cross your mind.  "Fine.  No violence pow-wows."  You rub your temples.  "Uuughh...."  You did need a plan though.  Thankfully you had a few ideas.  You couldn't go back to the sex mansion for obvious reasons, but there were was one or two places you could fall back too.
>"I want to sleep for a thousand years."  Even if you could that wouldn't solve any problems.  Too much stress, and not enough genitalia to masturbate on to relieve it.  "Alright girls, we'll jus-"
>You were cut off by the sound of snoring.  Melanie was leaning on the back of her chair and Ace was flopped into a puddle of syrup.  Damn.  Last night was more a toll on them than you thought.  You stand up and stretch your back.  Every strand of muscle and connecting piece of fiber creaked and groaned.  You weren't in tip-top shape either.  And why should you be?  You haven't been part of the homo sapiens club for months.
>You scoop the girls up, happy that they were merely full instead of half dead and crawling out of a puddle of organic sludge that used to be your shared body.  They're carefully set on opposite sides of the couch.  The syrup on Ace's face is wiped away by a towel.  You turn away from them and walk back to the table when you hear a whimper.
>Their forehooves grasped at empty air and they frowned deeply in their sleep.
>Oh.  Duh.
>You picked up Ace and she immediately latched onto you.  With some effort you pried her off and laid her next to Melanie.  Instantly, instinctively they held on with necks cradling each other.  Their breathing slowed and frowns turned into relaxed smiles.
>It would be adorable if it didn't make you feel like running outside and swearing vehemently enough to make the devil do a double take.
>You turned back to the table and saw Florence picking at a waffle.
"I suppose you're not some kind of deviant pony-napper."
>"I'm not that kind of deviant, no."
"Just someone who sells his...services."
>"Carnal services, yes.  But I've never hurt anyone!  At least not until we agreed on a safe word."  She opens her mouth to say something, but closes it, and opens it to say something entirely different.
"I know there's a lot of weird things going on in the world right now.  More strange than normal...um...if there ever was a normal."
>"What's that?"   She shakes her head.
"Never mind.  I still don't believe you, not completely at least.  But before I can make any decisions, I need to know that those two sweet hearts are safe.  And I'm not going to believe a word you say until you put some clothes on."
>"Huh?"  You look down.  "Oh right, I'm naked, fuck."  You wiggle your hips and your old partner in crime waves hello.  "Look who's back."  You lean down and hiss,  "You've been replaced.  I have NEW friends now."  Florence stares in mild disquiet.
"My room.  To the closet and drawers.  Now.  Immediately.  If you don't mind."
>"Do you have any-"
"Even if you do mind, to the closet.  Please."
>Less than a minute later the black sheep between your legs has been tucked into a pair of baggy gray sweat pants.  Florence tosses you an enormous pair of rainboots.
"I have extras.  Just keep them."
>You slip them on.  Oh man, shoes.  You remember these.
"Erm."  She fingered an oversized shirt in between her fingers.  "This will have to do."
>She tosses you a tie-dye tee with a smiley face on the front and the words "ALL THE WORLD TO LOVE" printed on the back.  You read it aloud and roll the phrase around in your head.  "I need to print this on a business card."
>The shirt slipped overhead and you couldn't help but notice the aroma of girlish outdoorsiness and flower-scent deodorant that builds up with steady use no matter what kind of detergent the wearer employs.
>Florence took off her apron and hung it up.  She about faced and stared you down with a tight-lipped unease.
"I suppose I can take you halfway seriously now."
>The male sitting on her bed looked like he ran into a Goodwill blindfolded and barely escaped with his life.  You adjusted the sweatpants around your special area.
"No I can't."
>She groaned and wiped sweat from her brow.
"No, no, I'll try.  Tell me, and no weirdness, what are yo planning on doing now?"
>"For starts," you lean back on her bed with arms behind your head.  "We've got to get back to the city.  From there we'll take a bus-"
"Who is 'we,' hm?"
"Me, Ace, and Melanie...?"  As if any different combination of 'we' could exist. "Anyway, we'll take a bus to my emergency everything's-gone-horribly-wrong hide out."
"Which is?"
>"My old apartment."  You start to count all the butterfly stickers she has plastered to on the ceiling.
"And this apartment, it's a real apartment?  With a door and plumbing, and not some kind of, of front for strange, inappropriate ring of, I don't know, lewdness?"
>You count the flowers she's stuck onto her vanity desk.  "Yeah, it's secret node of wild and crazy drug orgies and blood rituals."  This chick has a TON of butterflies in her room. "No, that was sarcasm.  Sorry.  It's a regular apartment, I promise.  With dirty laundry and food in the fridge and all.  Well, the food would be spoiled by now...why do you have butterflies everywhere?"  She was caught off guard.
"Butterflies?  I like them.  That's all."
>"Must like them a lot."
"Nothing wrong with that."
>She scanned the room for anything else you might question and became intensely nervous.
"Let's go back to the livingroom.  I need to clean in here.  The bed was dirtied after those dears slept in it, bless them."
>She shoo'd you out quickly.  Your boots thuck'd thuck'd thuck'd across the wooden floor.
>"Are you okay?"
"Frankly, no.  I have a man in my house with two mares who insist they were a three-headed prostitute that was torn apart by a flying dragon woman.
>"Her name was Samantha."
"A flying dragon woman named Samantha."
>"And she will pay dearly for her crimes."  She stared blankly at you, and from the back of her eyes you could see a headache brewing.
"I thought I left this craziness behind me," she muttered.
>"Truth is always crazy, ma'am."  You winked.  She suppressed a groan.
"I'm going to make a deal with you.  I'm going to make the three of you lunch and dinner, and tomorrow morning I'm going to walk you out of this forest and to the nearest bus depot.  From there all of us are going to your apartment so -I- can be satisfied that you're not planning something terrible for those poor girls asleep on my couch."
>The proposition sunk into your brain with the deliberation of a wide, heavy rock.   You can't remember the last time a strange woman was in your apartment, but then again, you figure this chick hasn't entertained many dudes in this cottage.  Not that it was a bad cottage.  You weren't the expert on rustic style, but the place reeked of someone making the best of what they had.
>"Fair enough.  But I should warn you:  We're going to do some fiendish plotting of righteous revenge on the ride up there."
"And 'we' is you, Melanie, and Ace, right?"
>"Yep.   You can be our soundboard if you want."
"We'll see what happens.  Mm."
>In that moment Florence had the look of a woman who never drank but sorely wished she did.  You ease yourself onto the empty end of the couch so as not to disturb your literal splits of personality snoozing away.  "You seem awfully concerned for," you twirl a finger in the direction of the mares.  Florence drew herself up to full not-inconsiderable height.
"How could I not?  Look at them."
>You were going to say 'I've looked at 'em plenty, trust me sister.' but for once in your life you thought better.
"I can't stand the idea of them being in danger.  Not until I know they'll be safe.  Ponies deserve that much, in this world and the other one."
>"Equestri-whatever?"  Her tone turned serious.
"Equestria."
>"Huh."  She sat in a chair and stared at you quietly for a long time.
"You know absolutely nothing about them, do you?"
>"What?  I know EVERYTHING about them, I told you, we were connected at the neck for-"
"No, not them, PONIES!  And anatomy doesn't count!"
>Damn.  You drum your fingers on the arm rest.  "They make very difficult receptionists."  She covers her eyes.
"There's no force on earth that will stop me from getting on that bus."
>"How do YOU feel so good pointing fingers at me?  You live out in the middle of the woods."  The big, evil woods.  "Feeding chickens and whatever livestock.  Seem to know a goody lot about ponies for a secluded nature girl."
"i'm not secluded.  I just enjoy my space."
>"And butterflies." Mel kicked the cover off in her sleep.  "Not that there's anything wrong with that."  You replace the sheet.  A phone quietly rang.  Florence jumped and was quick to pull out a small, unassuming cellphone.  There was a butterfly sticker on it.
"Hello?  Yes.  Just talking right now."
>She lowered the phone and put her hand on the receiver.  'I'll be back' she mouthed, then put the phone back to her ear.
"A little bit more.  Hm?  Oh, hardly."
>With smooth grace she rose off the chair and stepped quickly into the other room.  Ace pulled a lid halfway open.
"Y'all need to keep it down."
>You turned halfway to her.  "Heard any of that?"
"Some of it, yeah.  So she's going to tag along with us a bit?"
>"Look's like it."
"She's got no idea, does she?"
>"Nope.  But I don't think we're getting the whole picture here either.  She's hiding something."
"What, like a dildo collection?"
>"No, not that."  But she might.  "I don't think it's anything to really freak out over.  What do you think?"
"I think she let us into her house in the middle of the night and wrapped our ass up in band-aids."
>Your mouth went narrow and you glanced at the room she vanished into.  "That she did.  We'll play nice then, until we get back to my old place.  Uh..."  You looked uncertainly at Ace.  "Did you even get anything of that place when you first"  You held up two fingers and split them apart.  "Sprouted?"  She squeezed her eyes shut.
"Uh....not much.  Blurriness really.  I know there's some lingerie hidden under your mattress.  I think I remember a  poster?
>You nod.  "Yeah that was a good poster."  Melanie and Ace budded from your collar bone with a peculiar sense of identity and worldly knowledge.  What they knew was based off what you knew, but they didn't necessarily have all of your memories.   Just calling them offshoots of your own psyche would be complimentary of you, but very insulting to them.   You heard footsteps.  "Go back to sleep, we'll talk later."
>Ace plopped her head back down and snored loudly.  Over actor.  Florence caught the 'I'm innocent' look you had.
"Are you okay?"
>"Fine.  Dandy.  Who was that?"
"Oh, just a friend."
>"What kind of friend?"
"Just an old friend.  A good friend."  She waved her hands around.  "He's the excitable type."
>You're amazed she's managed to socialize way out here in the middle of nowhere.  "So you should be used to fun interesting characters like us."  She laughed.
"Oh, oh.  I realized a long time ago I would never get used them."
>"D'you have a shower around here?  It'd be great to wash off the dried blood and whatever forestry I dragged in last night.  Or do you bathe in a natural hot spring with mystical healing waters?"
"Afraid not.  Just an ordinary spout and tub, nothing mystical about it."
>"Cool with me."  You lean towards her.  "I had enough magic for one weekend already."
>She led you into a small bathroom, handed you a small towel, and pointed to a small tub with a small faucet on the top.
"The hot water runs out rather fast."
>You were too busy eyeing her shampoos and conditioners.
"And the pressure isn't too high."
>They were so horribly cheap looking.
"But just wipe it down please once you're done.
>You need to masturbate so badly.
>"Oh yeah, I'll rub it real good.  No problem, thank-you very mucho."  She smiled and closed the door on her way out.
>You turn on the water and hold your hand under the limp stream.  She was right, the pressure out here was crap.  Quickly you get back into your birthday suit and poke experimentally at Oscar Meyer Jr.
>He responded as normal.  You liked your other penis better. Now THAT was a rod.  A cock to be proud of.  The thing just hung out between your leg like a dazed hobo waiting for someone to show him a bit of attention or put him out of his misery.  You didn't even have any vaginas to choose from.  God, how did people live with only one set of sex organs?
>Whatever.  Beggars and choosers are nothing but losers.  You step into the shower and lather up and undergo some much needed stress relief.  Two minutes after intense personal meditation you couldn't shake off the creeps from masturbating alone.  It wasn't nearly as fun without having two other people to play with.
>Great.  You've been spoiled.  With a resigning groan you do the unthinkable and wash the grime and sweat away, which almost felt better than sexual gratification.
>But even cleaning up felt off.  No one around to help scrub behind the ears.  Or play with soap bubbles...
>Sure the girls were right down the hall asleep on the couch...
>You turn the water off, step out the tub and dry off.  Ill fitting clothes go back on.  You open the door and see Melanie sitting with anxious look.
>"Hi?"
"I have to pee."
>"Oh, I'm done, so  go for it."  You step into the hall.  She remains in her spot and looks at the interior of the bathroom like an alligator may be hiding underneath the tile.  "Um.  You can go in now."  She bites her lip.
"You're not going to come in with me?"
>"I wasn't planni-oohhhhhh...." You kneel down next to her and cup your hands.
"If I go in there I'd be by myself."  She looked into the restroom and saw more alligators.  "I've never been by myself before.  What if something bad happens?
>"Mel, thousands of people on earth, maybe even millions, manage to use the restroom every day without something bad happening."
"But I wouldn't even be doing it right.  Not without you and Ace." She looked back at the other mare who may have really fallen asleep.
>You nod.  "It was a three man operation, yeah..."  You shake your head.  "But look, Florence thinks I'm a borderline pony-napper pedophile rapist as it is, and if I go in there with you she'll, I don't know, beat me into purree with her bat and feed me to her chickens.  How 'bout this, you go in there, and I'll be right out here in case anything goes wrong."
>She bobs her head in grudging agreement.
"Alright.  I can do that."
>You smile as she walked into the restroom and closed the door behind her.
>And for the first time in her life, Melanie was alone.
>The porcelain tile stretched for miles and she was convinced that the trek to the toilet would last for eons.  Her little heart began to go into overdrive.  Her head kept looking to her right in search of support that, until last night, she had every right to expect.
>But it was just her.
"Okay.  Okay.  We can do this.  This going to be exactly the same, yessiree yessiree. Hmm hmmm-mmm-hmmmm..."
>Hum.  She kept humming.  It helped blocked out the panic from not hearing even an off-handed response to her prattles.
>She took a step.
>Meanwhile you sat with your legs in your chest by the door, ear not quite pressed against the wall.  Would she manage using a regular toilet with the sudden decrease in legs and..ah...available exits?
>Come on, you needed to have more trust in her.
"Sup?"
>"Shh, quiet Ace.  Mel's in there."
"She's using the bathroom?"
>"Yes."
"And you didn't go in there?  You didn't wake me up so we could all go in there?"
>"N-no, you were asleep.  Why would I wake you up?"
"Cus I have to use it too.  Don't you?"
>You paused and stared forward blankly.  You tapped your heavy boots on the ground. "Damn, now that you mention it..."  Ace pressed up against your face and hoarsely whispered
"We are stilllllll connneeeeccctteeeeeed~~~"
>You shove her aside with your hand.  "You weirdo."  She plopped next to you and leaned against your arm.
"Says you.  Why is she humming so loudly?"
>"Let her roll with it.  She's coping."
"She's singing David Bowie tunes."
>There was a flushing sound.  The two of you swapped a heavy glance of anticipation.
>There was the squeak and flow of running faucet water.
>Hoof steps to the door.
>It opens.
>And there stood Melanie looking for all the world with the same triumph and terror of a mare who just scaled mount everest by herself.
"Okay."  She whispered.  "I did it.  It's done."  She walked down the hallway in a daze.
"Yaaaaa-a-a-y-y-y..."
>Ace rubbed her shoulder.
"Hey, good on ya Sis.  Blazing those trails like a real pioneer.  Wicked job."  She looked at you for help.
>"Definitely.  See?  Nothing happened!"
"Nope.  Nothing happened.  I need to sit down for a while."
>Melanie sat next to you with the deliberation of a house plant.  Ace gulped.
"Okay...my turn."
>She stood on th threshold of the restroom.  A hoof hovered precariously in the air, and her breath caught in her throat like the world just fell away into stars.
"Aw fuck it, CHAAAAAAAAAAAAARGE!"
>She ran forward yelling and slammed the door hard enough to rattle the knob.
>Florence turned the corner with her bat in hand.
"Wh-what's happening?  What's going on?"
>It sounded like Ace was committing murder inside the bathroom.
"Potty break."  Melanie muttered.
>Florence lowered her bat and her eyebrows danced like slim caterpillars in the wind.
"Why are you all just sitting there?"
>"For emotional support."
"VICTOORRRYYYY!!!!!!"
>There was the death-knell of the toilet flushing once more.
"Emotional support?  Are you sure this isn't a war council?"
"No discussion of aggressive tactics until ten A.M."
>She looked at Melanie.
"Huh?"
"Weekday operating hours."
>"We had an agreement."  The door swung open and Ace strut out looking for all the world like a mare who just kicked Space Kim Jung Sauron Hitler square in the dick.  She threw a cockey look at the gathered crowd.
"Yeah, it was that good."
>You clapped earnestly.  Melanie followed suit.  Florence accompanied because it was the only way for her brain to keep up.