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From: Lazlo Zalezac <lzalezac@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Crossroads Rules 05 (MF, Sci-fi, Fantasy)
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Date: Tue,  7 Jun 2005 03:10:05 -0400
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Lazlo Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac

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<1st attachment, "Story1-5.txt" begin>

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. If you are offended by 
sexually explicit material or are under the age of 18, stop reading 
now. This material cannot be reproduced for commercial purposes 
without the consent of the author.

Crossroads Rules
Chapter 5
By
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2005

Sid arrived in class early to watch the arrival of Cynthia. It was her 
grand unveiling - the first day in which she went into public 
wearing her new wardrobe. He wondered which of the new outfits 
she would wear. He hoped that it was the blue dress since it was 
the sexiest of them. 

When Cynthia glided into the room, even Sid was surprised at the 
transformation. The loose fitting blue dress came down to her 
knees, was tight at the waist, and had a plunging neckline that just 
begged a man to check out her breasts. As nice as she was dressed, 
it was the way that she moved that drew the eye to her. 

One of the young men in the room asked, "Are you supposed to be 
in this class?"

"Yes, I am," she replied softly. During the trip from her car to the 
classroom, she had been stopped several times by young men 
wanting to initiate a conversation. She couldn't believe the 
attention that a minor change in wardrobe had brought about.

"It's kind of late in the semester for you to show up to class for the 
first time."

"I've been here every class," replied Cynthia realizing for the first 
time just how invisible she had been in the past. 

"Hey, I would have noticed a fox like you."

"That's a very nice thing to say," said Cynthia. She smiled at the 
compliment and looked over at Sid. He was watching her with an 
expression that let her know that he appreciated what he was 
seeing. She decided that it was time to reward her hero. She was 
going to visit him that night to thank him for all of his efforts by 
giving herself to him.  

She walked over to her normal chair and seated herself. Every 
male in the class watched her walk through the room. For many of 
them, she was the most graceful and elegant woman they had ever 
seen. Even a few of the women watched her, although their interest 
was of a very different nature. The sudden appearance of a 
beautiful woman in the classroom threw many of them for a loop. 

One of the women looked thoughtfully at Sid and asked, "Your 
perfect woman, is she like her?"

"Very close," answered Sid with a smile. 

For the rest of the day, one man after another approached Cynthia 
in attempts to have her notice them. People turned to watch her 
when she entered a room. Young women who were used to being 
the center of attention found very quickly that she had stolen the 
show. The normal reaction would have been to label her a slut, but 
there was nothing slutty about her appearance; she looked classy. 

The pamphlets that Sid had brought back with him from 
Crossroads were in a pile on the coffee table. He had put them 
there after reading each one several times. It was an interesting 
collection of material that included instructions on how to 
construct a portal. The instructions were identical to the ones that 
appeared in Gerald's journal, although it included illustrations and 
variations.

Yawning out of boredom, Sid stood and stretched. His homework 
for the day was done. He still needed to look up some more 
material for his paper in history, but he planned to do that when he 
went to work in the library. He had been given his choice of 
several topics for his paper and had chosen to do it on early 
American industries.

Nature called and he headed down the hall towards the restroom. 
Just before reaching the door, there was a knock on his front door. 
In the entire time he had been living in the house, he'd had two 
visitors, his aunt and Cynthia. Cynthia had been to his house once. 
All other interactions with her had been in school or at stores when 
they had gone shopping together. Surprised to have company, he 
turned to answer the door with the hope that it wasn't family. 

Sid opened the door and looked out at his visitor. For a moment he 
stared at her speechless. Recovering, he said, "Cynthia! What a 
pleasure to see you again."

Sid was not being generous when he said that it was a pleasure to 
see her again. She looked even better than she had in class that 
morning. Her bright green outfit demanded a first and second look 
while showing off her figure to best advantage. There was enough 
of a cleavage to draw the eye to her breasts. The dress was short 
enough to show off her legs. It hugged her body sufficiently to 
show off her figure while being loose enough to flow as she 
moved.

"I just wanted to thank you. I hope it is not too late to stop by," 
said the young woman. Cynthia stood on the porch, poised and 
confident while showing just a trace of vulnerability that was sexy. 
She could see by the expression on his face that she had impressed 
him with her appearance. It was the first time she had seen him 
look at any woman with more than superficial interest.

"Not at all," replied Sid happy to see her and finding it difficult to 
keep his eyes off her. Remembering his manners, he said, "Please 
come in."

Cynthia glided into the room with newfound grace. She walked 
like a fashion model; all evidence of a duck-like gait was gone. He 
noticed that she stood with her back straight, head level, and her 
shoulders back. Mrs. Wilson had worked miracles in teaching her 
how to stand and move. 

Closing the door, he gestured to a chair as he said, "Please take a 
seat here in the living room."

Cynthia glided over to the chair and sat down in a proper manner. 
Sid followed her into the room. Sitting up straight, she crossed her 
legs at her ankles and turned her upper body to look over at her 
host. Maintaining eye contact, she smiled and then said, "Thank 
you."

Although Sid wanted to continue the conversation, his bladder was 
busy reminding him of its need to be relieved. Unable to wait 
much longer, he said, "I was about to take care of something rather 
important. If you would excuse me for a second, I'll be right back."

"Of course. Please take your time," replied Cynthia with a slight 
nod of her head.

"Thank you," replied Sid as he backed out of the room. Once out 
of sight, he raced to the bathroom. As he relieved the pressure in 
his bladder he thought about the changes in behavior of Cynthia. 
She was almost a different person from the non-entity who had 
stopped at his table that day. 

While Sid was out of the room, Cynthia noticed the stack of 
pamphlets on the coffee table. Mrs. Wilson had said that books left 
on a coffee table were intended to provide a topic of discussion 
when people were unable to find something to talk about. Curious, 
she picked up the pamphlet entitled, 'Rules for Hero Companions.' 
She opened it and started to read. 

Engrossed in the material contained within the pamphlet, Cynthia 
didn't hear Sid return. When he saw what she was reading, he said, 
"Ah, I see you discovered one of the rule books."

Looking up at him, she replied, "This is a very strange little 
publication. It reads like some sort of a cross between a fairy tale 
and a driver's manual. What is it?"

Taking a seat across from her, he answered, "Which one are you 
reading?"

"Rules for Hero Companions," answered Cynthia with a hint of a 
blush. She had been rather embarrassed by the rules concerning the 
requirement that a hero companion must take care of the sexual 
needs of the hero while in Chaos.

"That is the rule book for people from Earth who choose to 
accompany a hero on his adventure in Chaos," replied Sid. He 
spread the other pamphlets out on the coffee table and explained, 
"These are the other rule books that I brought back from 
Crossroads. You might want to take them with you and read them."

Looking over at him with an amused smile, she asked, "You 
brought them back from Crossroads?"

Sid had not meant to say that, but he wasn't about to take back the 
truth. He answered, "Yes."

"Interesting."

"Would you care for some coffee or tea?" asked Sid wanting to 
change the subject away from his accidental slip.

"I would enjoy some tea," answered Cynthia confidant in her 
answer. On her first trip to his house, she had been made uneasy by 
the question. Mrs. Wilson had explained that being offered the 
choice was exactly what it implied. She was being asked which of 
the two beverages she preferred and there wasn't a wrong answer. 

"Excuse me while I prepare some tea," said Sid.

"Of course," replied Cynthia. She watched him leave the room and 
then returned to reading the pamphlet wondering if he had really 
been serious about having brought it back from Crossroads for her. 
She reached the part where she was required to have sex with the 
caretaker should the woman make the demand of her. 

She looked up and thought about what was in the pamphlet. She 
frowned at the idea that he was using that as a means of sleeping 
with her, but that is how it appeared to her. She wondered why he 
was doing it that way. Of course, the part about having to take care 
of the camp, carrying his goods, and cooking sounded like some 
medieval treatment of a woman. She didn't know what to think 
about the whole thing.

Putting the pamphlet to the side, she picked up the rulebook for 
heroes. She giggled at the adolescent fantasy that it appeared to 
represent. Aloud, she said, "Gaggles of women just wanting to 
sleep with the hero. Right."

Entering the room with a tray on which he had the tea and pastries, 
Sid smiled at the characterization of the adventures. Setting the 
tray down on the coffee table, he said, "Yes, I suppose it does 
sound like a teenage fantasy."

"Is this some sort of game like Dungeons and Dragons?" asked 
Cynthia. 

"It is real, but I don't expect you to believe me without 
experiencing it yourself," answered Sid. 

"Why would I want to do that?"

"You asked if Sally Caretaker could teach you," answered Sid, 
"and I investigated how you could meet her. Being a Hero 
Companion is the only way."

She stared at him in shock. Her thoughts raced, 'His perfect woman 
didn't really exist? His perfect woman was some sort of fantasy 
woman? This guy actually believed in this fantasy world? What 
have I gotten myself into? I don't want to be involved with 
someone who's crazy!'

Cynthia came to a decision. She wasn't going to thank him in the 
manner she had planned. There was no way she was going to give 
up her virginity to a madman. 

While Cynthia was trying to make sense of what she had just 
learned, Sid calmly prepared a cup of tea for her. He interrupted 
her thoughts when he said, "Here's your tea."

Automatically, she accepted the tea and said, "Thank you."

"I imagine you think that I'm crazy," said Sid.

"I'm sure of it," replied Cynthia immediately regretting it. The 
words slipped out of her mouth before she had a chance to think of 
the consequences of calling a crazy man crazy. She wondered if 
she should drink the tea.

"I will make a deal with you," said Sid watching the expression on 
her face. He knew that she wasn't going to believe him until she 
stepped through the portal and experienced Crossroads for herself. 
If he really wanted to convince her that he wasn't crazy, getting her 
to step through the portal was the biggest problem he faced.

"What kind of deal?"

"Think about what is in the rule book. If you think that you could 
act as required by the rules upon proof that Crossroads is a real 
place, then come here next Saturday. I won't ask you to do 
anything until you are satisfied that Crossroads is a real place," Sid 
said with calm assurance. 

"I will think about it," replied Cynthia thinking that it would be 
best to play along with him. 

"If you wish, you may bring someone with you to my house to 
make sure that I don't do anything to you that you don't want to 
have happen. All I ask is that they wait for fifteen minutes in the 
living room while we go on the adventure," said Sid realizing that 
he wanted her to go with him. 

"Fifteen minutes?"

"I'm sure you noticed that the rule book said that no matter how 
long you are in Crossroads, only fifteen minutes will pass here on 
Earth," explained Sid. He added, "I don't know how it works, but 
my experience shows that it is true."

Cynthia wondered what could happen in fifteen minutes if she had 
someone waiting for her outside the room. Her imagination filled 
in plenty of details, none of which were pretty. A shiver went 
through her body. She repeated her question, "Fifteen minutes?"

"Yes, fifteen minutes," answered Sid not sure what her question 
meant.

Deciding to act as if she was taking his fantasy seriously, she 
asked, "So what do you get out of it?"

"Out of what? Going to Crossroads or having you come with me?" 
asked Sid.

"Going to Crossroads."

Despite having been there three times, Sid hadn't really thought 
about an answer to that question. His first thought was that he went 
back to be with Sally Caretaker, but that wasn't really the whole 
reason. He said, "In a way, it is a male fantasy world. First, there is 
Sally Caretaker. She's a beautiful woman; the most beautiful 
woman I've ever met. She's also smart and very knowledgeable 
about many subjects. I could spend the rest of my life talking with 
her. 

"Second, there are the Damsels in Distress. It's not the reward for 
rescuing them that attracts me, although that is a very pleasant 
benefit. I really feel good about rescuing them from danger. The 
first Damsel was about to be sold into indentured servitude. She'd 
have ended up a prostitute if I hadn't saved her. The last Damsel 
would have been killed or maimed by the man holding her against 
her will. 

"Third, there is the adventure itself. I've seen things that I never 
thought possible. I've watched men digging for clay along a 
riverbank. A blacksmith was smelting bog iron on my last trip 
there. I've even spent an evening in an inn watching people in a 
world where electricity doesn't exist.

"I also get to test my martial arts skills against others in an honest 
fight. By honest fight, I mean one that is not fought according to 
any artificial rules. It is a real fight where your opponent is likely 
to try anything at all, including using poisoned blades. I was 
almost killed on my last adventure, but I got a much better 
understanding of my abilities than I would get in any Earth 
competition. 

"I guess I've also come to appreciate the things we take for granted. 
You don't think about it, but concrete sidewalks and streets are 
modern miracles. We flush toilets without realizing what life 
would be like without them. There is no way that I could have 
come to those realizations without having experienced Chaos," 
said Sid.

It was a far more complete answer than she had been expecting. 
She noticed that the sex was only a minor motivation. Curious, she 
asked, "Why would you want me to come along?"

"I don't really know how to answer that question. You had asked if 
Sally could help you become like her, so I found out if that was 
possible. I wasn't really thinking about what I would get out of it. 
Now that we are talking, I realize that I want someone to talk with 
concerning events there," answered Sid. 

Cynthia frowned at the idea that he was hoping to drag her into his 
fantasy world. She asked, "So why should I want to go there?"

"Good question," answered Sid. He hadn't given any thought as to 
what would motivate a Hero Companion to undertake such a high-
risk activity. After a minute, he said, "I have no idea."

She smiled at the fact that he didn't say she would get to sleep with 
him, although she was tempted to believe that he thought it. 
Curious, she said, "Care to speculate."

Realizing that he didn't really know enough about her to speculate 
about what might motivate her, he replied, "Not until I know 
enough about you to know why you would do something so 
dangerous."

"It's dangerous?" asked Cynthia.

"Very dangerous," replied Sid. He hadn't realized it at the time, but 
his uncle had spent years preparing him for these adventures. He 
had years of martial arts training, little projects in which he was 
given the skills to create weapons, and camping trips for surviving 
in the wilderness. Although he would enjoy having her come 
along, he wouldn't trick her into it.

"So why would I go?"

Trying to get a moment to consider his answer, Sid took a sip of 
his tea. The tea was tepid and tasted horrible. Setting down his cup, 
he asked, "Have you studied any of the martial arts?"

"No."

"Do you like to camp?"

"Never done it," answered Cynthia.

"Then I think it would be a very bad idea for you to go," said Sid 
deciding that taking her along would be the equivalent of killing 
her outright. He wouldn't do that and said, "Forget my earlier 
offer."

The retraction of the offer surprised Cynthia. In the course of the 
discussion, she had become convinced that he believed in his 
fantasy and it made her curious. She took a sip of her tea and 
grimaced at the taste. Looking up, she said, "My tea has gotten 
cold."

"So has mine," said Sid feeling that he wasn't fulfilling his role as a 
host. Embarrassed, he said, "Allow me to get you a fresh cup."

"I have a better idea," replied Cynthia. "Why don't we go to a 
coffee shop and get a cup of coffee there?"

"Sounds good to me," said Sid. Looking down at his clothes, he 
realized that he wasn't exactly dressed to accompany Cynthia in 
public. 

Recognizing what he was thinking, she said, "Don't worry about it. 
We'll just be going to a coffee shop."

Nodding, Sid stood and extended a hand to help her out of her 
chair. She took it and stood putting only a light pressure on his 
arm. Mrs. Wilson had explained that the gesture was an offer of 
support, not a demand that she pull herself out of the chair. An 
elderly woman might actually make use of that offer, but it should 
be offered to both young and old. She hadn't understood why it 
should be offered to a young woman until Mrs. Wilson suggested 
how insulted a woman might be if she was suddenly treated 
differently because she was viewed as getting old. On standing, she 
said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," replied Sid appreciating the improvement in 
manners. He felt like he was dealing with a lady rather than a dock 
worker. It was a refreshing change for him.

They drove to a local all night coffee shop in separate cars with Sid 
following her. It was not the first time they had met somewhere in 
public. Sid had gone shopping with her and helped picked out the 
outfits she had purchased. This trip seemed to have a different 
flavor for Sid. Somehow it had stopped being a self-improvement 
project and become a date. He wondered how that had happened.

Cynthia drove to the coffee shop wondering why Sid had changed 
his mind about her going along with him to Crossroads. It didn't 
seem that cooking in a camp could be dangerous. Carrying his stuff 
might be a hassle, but she wasn't a weak woman. If his fantasy 
world did exist, then even having sex with him wouldn't be that 
bad. She'd come over to his house with the intention of allowing 
him to make love to her. 

Sid pulled into the parking lot behind Cynthia and parked his car in 
an empty spot a little distant from where she parked. They met at 
the front door and, upon entering, waited for the hostess to take 
them to a table. Following the hostess, Sid observed a man reach 
out and pinch her on her bottom. Along with the pinch, the man 
commented, "Nice and firm."

Without a second thought, Sid reached down, groped the man's 
private parts, and then said, "Nice and firm."

Furious, the man stood up and faced Sid with clenched fists. A 
vein in his forehead throbbed as he shouted, "You fucking faggot!"

"It's not so nice when someone fondle you against your wishes, is 
it?" asked Sid in a low threatening voice while staring the man in 
the eyes. In a half second, he had gone from relaxed to ready for 
battle. 

Considering the nature of Sid's actions, it was obvious that he was 
more than willing to escalate to violence. Seeing the stance Sid had 
taken, it was also clear that Sid was quite capable of taking him 
apart in a fight. The thought that he could end up seriously injured 
gave the man pause. Backing off a little, the man replied, "Keep 
your hands to yourself."

"I suggest that in the future, you do the same," answered Sid. 

Having missed the event that triggered Sid's actions, Cynthia had 
watched the exchange with an open mouth. The hostess was 
embarrassed, but also thankful. When the manager headed over to 
them, she shook her head and said, "Your table is over here."

Sid backed away as the man returned to his seat. After a few steps, 
Sid turned and followed the hostess and Cynthia to the table. Once 
there, the hostess said, "Thank you."

"My pleasure, ma'am," replied Sid with a slight nod of his head. 

"I must admit that I get tired of the groping, lame pickup lines, and 
boorish behavior," admitted the weary hostess. It was worse when 
the bars closed and the bar crowd came into the place. Too many 
of them were drunk and loud. After hours spent in pickup joints, 
the men all looked at women like meat in a butcher shop. 

Looking over at the other table, Sid commented, "My uncle used to 
say that there were not enough gentlemen left in this world. I find 
that I agree with him."

"Have a seat and your waitress will be with you in a minute," said 
the hostess with a smile. It seemed to her that men didn't talk like 
that anymore except in the old movies. 

Cynthia slid into the booth realizing that Mrs. Wilson had not told 
her how to deal with booths. It was difficult to slide into a booth 
while looking graceful. After Sid had taken his seat, she said, "I 
think the whole world has conspired against the manners of the old 
times. There is no graceful way to enter one of these booths."

"That is true," said Sid as he slid into his seat.  Settling down, he 
said, "I must apologize for that little scene back there. Some men 
don't realize that their attempts to get the attention of women are 
offensive."

"I will say that I was a little taken aback by your willingness to 
create a public scene," replied Cynthia. 

"It was create a scene or allow an offense to pass without remark," 
replied Sid with a shrug of his shoulders. Although he doubted that 
his intervention would have the effect desired, he said, "Perhaps in 
the future he will think twice about doing such an action again."

"I wasn't quite sure what he did."

"He pinched the hostess when she passed by him and made a rude 
comment about her. As my uncle Gerald would say, he deserved a 
good thrashing."

Cynthia giggled at hearing the word thrashing. It sounded so old 
fashioned and was definitely out of place in a modern coffee shop. 
The waitress arrived at the table and said, "I saw what you did. 
Thanks from all of us."

"My pleasure," replied Sid.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

Turning to Cynthia, Sid asked, "Would you care for coffee or tea?"

"Coffee please."

"It's getting late. Would you like regular or decaf?"

"As much as I hate decaf, I should probably go with it," answered 
Cynthia. She was enjoying how Sid went about ordering for her. 
Mrs. Wilson had explained that this was a dance of sorts by which 
a man kept his attention focused on the lady he was escorting. The 
elderly woman had insisted that it had nothing to do with keeping a 
woman helpless or in her place. 

Turning to the waitress, Sid said, "We'd like two decafs, please."

The waitress didn't know what to make of the exchange. She'd 
written down the order for the decaf as soon as Cynthia had stated 
her preference. After she left, Cynthia turned to Sid and 
commented, "You remember your lessons from Mrs. Wilson quite 
well."

"Thank you. She is a wonderful instructor. It is a shame that more 
people are not interested in learning the gentile arts," said Sid.

Raising an eyebrow, she said, "You were a soldier at one time and 
now you claim to be an adventurer in Crossroads. Why are you so 
concerned with good manners?"

Surprised by the question, Sid answered, "There are a number of 
reasons, although two reasons stand out the most. A soldier or 
adventurer stands a good chance of becoming a brutal thug if he 
doesn't pay attention to things such as honor, discipline, and 
chivalry. Manners are an important part of that. Brutal thugs don't 
say please or thank you; they take without asking. 

"My Uncle Gerald used to say that it is far easier to make friends 
than it is to vanquish enemies. Manners are important in making 
friends. They make you aware of the intrinsic humanity of the 
other person and, thus, they remind you to consistently show 
respect. A lack of manners can create enemies. I'd rather have 
friends than enemies, hence I pay attention to my manners."

The answer surprised Cynthia and yet made a great deal of sense to 
her. She asked, "Have you ever wondered if the reason manners 
are dying is because people have stopped vanquishing enemies?"

"That's an interesting question."

The waitress arrived with their coffee cups and a thermal carafe 
filled with decaf. She set them on the table and asked, "Would you 
care for cream?"

Sid turned to Cynthia and asked, "Would you care for some 
cream?"

"No, thank you," she replied.

Turning to the waitress, Sid said, "No, thank you."

Irritated at what she considered to be an overbearing treatment of 
his date, the waitress said, "She can answer for herself."

"I was not aware that she hadn't answered for herself. She was 
quite clear in stating that she didn't want cream," replied Sid as he 
picked up the carafe and poured a cup of coffee for Cynthia. 

"Thank you," said Cynthia when he set the cup in front of her 
before filling his own.

Slightly put off by his response, the waitress asked, "Would you 
care to order something now?"

Sid asked, "Would you care for a dessert?"

"No, thank you. I fear that I don't have an appetite," answered 
Cynthia with a smile. Although she was pleased with the attention 
that she was getting, it was clear that his behavior was irritating the 
waitress. 

"How about you?" asked the waitress turning to Sid.

"The lady and I are fine with just coffee. Thank you."

The waitress started to walk away when Cynthia said, "Please, 
hold on a moment."

Turning back to face Cynthia, the waitress did her best to ignore 
Sid. A two-coffee order wasn't going to produce much of a tip, so 
she stopped her attempts at being polite. She asked, "Did you 
change your mind?"

"No. I just wanted you to know that my companion is a perfect 
gentleman. He is treating me like a lady. He's not being rude or 
disrespectful. He is attending to my desires and treating them with 
greater importance than his. And I must tell you that I am perfectly 
delighted to be treated in this manner," said Cynthia.

The waitress stared at her for a moment and then turned to look at 
Sid. Confused, the young woman said, "Okay."

"Thank you," replied Cynthia feeling in complete charge of the 
situation.

The baffled waitress walked away with the understanding that the 
'thank you' had been a dismissal. She had never been so politely 
and firmly dismissed in her life. 

Once she was gone, Cynthia looked thoughtful for a moment 
before she asked, "Don't you find it odd that good manners are 
interpreted as rudeness?"

The End Of Crossroads Rules
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