Title: Affection Multiplier App: The Boyfriend
By: BreaktheBar
Chapter 104
I handed off the camera back to Terra, which she happily took but then immediately got concerned as she saw the expression on my face and that I was looking past her. I quickly made my way through the ladies and got up next to the edge of the dock where the four good ol’ boys were pulling up.
Now, I had a few options for how to deal with them. The first was to go Macho Alpha and try and tell them off and protect my group. I liked to think of that as being ‘Papa Lion’ when I was at work in the casino, and to be frank it was rarely a good choice considering when I was at work I was on the hook for every misstep one of my events had that could have been managed. Yelling at clients, or threatening fights, was a terrible way at keeping a job. The second option I had was to try and ignore it, which obviously wasn’t going to happen either. Even if all the girls had been strangers I’d never met I wouldn’t want to see them getting harassed. And they weren’t strangers. Cassidy was there, and Wanda, and Becca and Cattie and Ami and-
Jesus, I might be going a little overboard, I thought.
The third option was to weak-will it. Try and keep the peace but also maintain some sort of boundary so that the guys could feel macho without actually doing any damage to the ladies. That was how way too managers ended up doing things in the service industry. I’d seen too many bar managers and house managers bend over backwards to keep an obvious asshole customer from making a complaint after abusing a staff member. There was no way I would step into shoes like that.
So what was my last option?
“Well, hey there fellas,” I said, putting on a very loud and very chipper voice. “I’ll be honest, I’m not much for rope tugging, but if you whip it on up here I’ll happily tug your rope, wrap it around this here pole and make sure you’re good and happy.”
The fourth option was Controlled Chaos. Use innocence and logic to turn a group of shitters on each other and deflect it away from staff.
“What?” the guy who talked said, furrowing his brow and looking at me like I had two heads.
“I said whip your rope on up here and I’ll give it a tug just like you asked,” I said with a huge, golden retriever grin and peppy demeanour I wasn’t feeling on the inside. I ended the sentence in my head with, ‘You filthy fucking degenerate.’
“Hah!” one of his buddies laughed. “Fella wants to give you a tug, Jim!”
“I ain’t no faggot,” Jim sputtered. He turned to me, glaring. “Are y’ queer or something, you fuck?”
Now, the dock had gotten a lot quieter when I started speaking so loudly, and all the girls were now glaring at the guys.
“You kiss your mother with that mouth, asshole?” Heels asked from nearby.
“Fuck you, paki bitch,” one of Jim’s other friends said.
Now, I’d put my arm out to caution Heels back when she talked. The whole point of my manoeuvre was to disarm the guys instead of giving them a target. My answer to Jim would have been something like ‘Well, I ain’t a homosexual if that’s what you’re asking sir, but I’d happily tug on that rope you’re offering if you want’ and just send it right back at them. Heels didn’t help the situation.
JC helped even less, though based on his life compared to mine I could understand why he may not follow the same playbook.
“How about you shut the fuck up, Greasy Dan,” he said, stepping around me and making himself look big. It was pretty successful, considering his fitness.
“You got a problem, wetback?” Jim said. “What, you an’ yer faggot friend gonna fight all four of us?”
Then Heather stepped forward and cracked her knuckles loudly. “I’ll take the two on the left,” she said.
Now, Heather was a big woman. Not big as in fat, though her plush lips and big tits and thick thighs could lead you to that thinking. Other than Terra, Heather might have been the fittest of all the women on the trip and if it wasn’t for the work she’d had done she’d probably look a lot more butch.
The guys didn’t know what to do.
My ‘Chipper Golden Retreiver’ act wasn’t going anywhere, so I dropped it. “Look, guys. You made asses of yourselves, but we have no idea who you are. How about you guys wait about thirty seconds for us to clear out, and then you dock down at the base of the dock and we all go our separate ways?”
There was a long moment of the rednecks glancing at each other. ‘Greasy Dan’, as JC had named him, looked ready to split. So did Jim and another one, surprisingly. It was the fourth, sitting in the prow of the boat, who decided it would be a good idea to reach between his legs into a tacklebox and start pulling out a wicked-looking Fish Cleaning knife.
He started to snarl something as he did it, but he never got to finish.
Heather kicked him right in the face. Blood splattered and there was a crunch as the guy’s nose broke, and the clatter of the knife on the inside of the metal boat.
I took the opportunity of shock everyone went through to kick down at the boat and push it away from the dock. Then I turned and waved at the girls. “We’re leaving!”
The ladies scattered for the houseboats, except for JC, Heather and I. And Becca.
“What the fuck,” Becca sighed.
The two guys in the middle of the boat were shouting, trying to help their buddy who definitely didn’t want their help by the way he was thrashing at them. The fourth one at the back of the boat looked like he didn’t know what to do.
“What the fuck is going on out here?” Maddison called from the top of the dock stairs. She was put back together and looking on in confusion.
Now it was my turn to sigh.
* * *