Chapter 1

The piece of paper on the YMCA’s classroom door said in fucking comic sans font, 

Meditation for the STRESSED

Tues - Sun

7:00 pm - 8:00 pm

Rolling my eyes at the pun of stressing the word stressed with bold all-caps letters I open the door. There are fifteen women of varying ages sitting crossed-legged on the floor facing the instructor, a late twenties tanned, black haired, hot chick in a tight red leotard. Everyone turns and looks at me.

“It’s 7:50,” the instructor said. “You’re late.”

“Um, sorry? Is this the anger management class?”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, only it started an hour ago.” I move into the room and close the door. “Just…sit down and be quiet.”

Looking around for any chairs, there were none, I pulled up a piece of floor and sat. Leaning against the wall I pulled out my phone.

She went on to lead the class in some sort of mantra. Something about finding their center (“…after being rudely interrupted…”) and other new age bullshit. I started searching Tinder while she went on. Shit, no hits. That’ll teach me to tell the truth in profiles. No pussy for short, skinny guys.

I guess I lost track of time because when I looked up everyone left and the instructor is standing over me, fists on her hips, “Ok. Who the hell are you and why the fuck did you interrupt my class.”

“Ahh, sorry.” I get to my feet looking over her toned legs and flat stomach. I see she’s a couple of inches taller. Fuck. “I’ve been court ordered to do an anger management class.” I pull the court paper from my jeans and hand it to her. She looks puzzled as she takes it and reads. “You’re class was the only one that fits my schedule.”

“It says here that you assaulted a guy.” She scans over me with dark blue eyes. “You don’t look like the type that beats people up.”

I sigh. I’ve only told this story about a hundred times. “Some ‘roided up jackass just started hitting me at a bar one night. Claimed I looked at his girl friend. He broke my cheek bone and a few ribs…bruised my abs. While I was on the floor being pummeled I guess he slipped and hit his head on something. The bartender called the cops When I could finally stand the girl friend was over the asshole screaming at me to leave him alone. Then the cops arrested me.”

Aaaand the question everyone asks… “Sez here that he’s in a coma. How do you explain that?”

“I can’t.”

“Uh-huh” she hands the paper back to me. “Sure. Class days and hours are on the door. See you next time.”

I take the paper from her with my left hand and extend my right. “What’s up with no class on Mondays?”

“Nobody’s got the hang of Monday’s.” She takes my hand for the handshake and gives a small gasp. Her pupils dilate. In nearly a whisper she says, “R-Rachel.”

“Nice to meet you Rachel. I’m Tim.” She’s staring at me. Are her nipples hardening? ”Can I have my hand back?”

Rachel lets go of my hand like it was hot and takes a step back. “I…I have to be somewhere. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She turns away and walks to a gym bag against the opposite wall. I can’t help but notice the swing in her hips as she cat-walks away.

“Yeah, sure,” I say as I open the door and leave the Y for home. That was weird, I think as I feed my cat. No woman’s reacted like that to me. That night, as I lie in bed, I jerk off to the metal image of swaying hips in a red leotard ridding my dick.

***

“Goddess, I must speak to you!”

“Yes, child.”

“A man came to my class tonight. He looked normal, but he’s powerful.”

“How do you know this little one?”

“When I shook his hand I felt a shock shoot up my arm. It pierced Anahata. I used the sight and saw his aura. It was white. It broke through my shields and touching me.”

The Goddess lightly chuckles. “You struggle with control and an active imagination, girl. Are you sure of this?”

“Yes…yes.”

In a commanding tone that rings in the hall “Show me”. The Goddess lightly touches Rachel’s forehead. After a moment she lifts her trembling hand. “You will instruct this man in shields. Nothing more. Do you understand?”

“As you command me.”

The Goddess turns away from the genuflecting Rachel and moves about the large marble chamber. The pillars rising to the high ceiling radiate soft light across the statues in the wall recesses. The nude figures of male and female human and human/animal hybrids gaze dispassionately at the two occupants. “I will observe this man and determine what to do with him.”

Rachel rises and follows behind her deity. “Could he be the one, Goddess?”

The Goddess is staring at a statue of a human male. “I do not know. My foresight does not include him, which is odd. One thing is certain. He won’t be the Kwisatz Haderach.”

Rachel smiles and steps up to her Goddess’s side. She’s glad the Goddess read the book. “Well, he didn’t look anything like he should. He was, ya know, kinda small."

“You of all beings should know that the physical doesn’t matter the astral.”

“Do you think he’ll look like…that?”

The statue is of a tall man with a physique a championship bodybuilder wishes for. Diamond-like calves, powerful thighs, ten pack abs framed by shredded obliques, thick wing-like latissimus dorsi, massive pecs, cannonball deltoids, towering trapezius, arms that look like they could crush stone. The figure’s arms were thrown back and chest thrust forward in a challenging stance. The statue’s eyes looked down on Rachel as if to say, “I am the one you will worship now.” What really caught her attention, what always did, was his member, long and thick between his thighs. His penis, dick…his cock.

Rachel sees the Goddess shudder and say, “By the Gods I pray he does.”