Scott (B Monologue. Again B is for Boy, not yet a teen, but starting to be more aware of his sexuality.)
I knew it, “Yeah right,” they wouldn’t believe me. “Cool story, though.”
But they stood around, and adjusted themselves in their pants. Crossed their legs, and then finally went into the stalls, with the doors shut. I didn’t hear them peeing in there, nor poots, but.
Butt, I left that part out. Knowing they’d call me gay, and say I like it up the butt, when I didn’t. Not really, then I heard scratching on the doors. The walls of the stall, from them drawing stuff to look at, while they played with themselves.
I just got out of there, before I said something stupid, like let me see? What they were drawing, I’d probably come back later to check it out, but of course, none of them have ever seen it, really. A girl naked, like I have, and I’m so drained from beating off all night.
I don’t think it’s making me impotent, can you get impotent from that? It hurt, but before that. When she was just using her tongue, or rubbing it with her finger, so she was careful not to scratch me with her nail. How did she stick it in, without scratching me with her nail? She didn’t draw blood, when she caught a nail on my balls, it just surprised me, is all.
I found out that it puckers, when I felt it, and licked my finger, so it felt like her tongue. Sort of, but then I got off again, and it tensed up. Like it was kissing at my finger, and hungry for more. It didn’t hurt, as much. I was just checking myself for scratches, on the inside, but then.
It felt so good, but it’s not like. Homos do it with boys, and stick their dicks in each other’s asses. Do they lick it out real good first, to get it wet? I don’t know, but it’s straight, if a girl does it, right? Who do I ask that? “Oh, shit!”
I forgot all about telling them about the pantie raid, so I can prove it. It’s not on Valentines, I forgot, and looked it up, but if I got caught with the picture at school. Well, they’d probably take it to look at, and spank it any way, but that could ruin the whole thing, but I looked it up.
Valentines is on the 14th, and there going to protest on the 12th. Which is a Wednesday, so they have a couple days to get ready for Valentines on Friday night, and also meet boys, that way. You have to think that, running around topless like that, if any of them don’t already have boyfriends, and how else is she going to find a boy her age, that likes all that butt stuff?
It sure worked on me, but let’s face it, I’m too little, or her finger’s still to big, but now that I know how good it feels. I have time, lots of time, years, and years to get used to it, and enjoy it, until I find another girl like her, but then I get home, and Hooree ran back to mom’s room to get the emery board.
“Uh, no. It’s too soon, and there’s nothing left to.” I though. “Hey, how come girls have long nails?”
She showed me her’s, “There pretty, and if you grow them out, then there’s more to polish, see?” She waved them in my face, “They’re sparkly!”
“Yeah, and pink. Hey, you like pink too.”
“It’s pretty.” She nodded.
“So, maybe you can help me with something. There’s this girl I like, and she’s pretty, but I don’t want to give her an Avengers Valentine.” I wasn’t thinking, when we’re at the drug store. I just picked them out.
“I like Scarlet Witch.” She started twisting her fingers and wrist around. “She does magic. Pretty magic.”
“Yeah,” I remember. “So, you want to help me make a valentines heart? Girls like hearts, right? I’ll give you my Scarlet Witch one.”
Back in my room, I dug that one out. “Here.” It said [I want to Be Witch you.]
So corny, it’s a play on words, because she used to mess with people’s minds, back when she was a bad guy. Well, I guess bad girl, but you know what I mean. Back when she was working with Hydra, and then Ultron, before she joined the Avengers?
“I want to be With you.”
“No, see? It says Witch, because she’s a witch, but also if you Bewitch someone, that means you put them under your spell. Like hypnosis, I guess.” On’y in the movie, she just has to wiggle her fingers, and the special effect guys add hot pink sparkles, but how come she’s called Scarlet Witch? Isn’t scarlet bright red? Like blood red, like the Scarlet Letter. I guess she wears a lot of red, but her fingernails are short, and black. I guess I’d be goth too, if a secret nazi death cult experimented on me, and my brother, then he got killed saving people, and my whole family died, and then my whole city crashed, because some psycho robot can’t tell the difference between Evolution, and Extinction.
“Uh huh?” She grabbed a pencil from my backpack, and put it down. On the floor, she had to squat down, and I looked away from her skirt sliding down from her knees.
“So, uh. What do girls want, from a boy?”
“Candy.” She finished writing Uhura Dancey in the To: Line.
“You have to sign it.” She held up the pencil, so I got up, and sat on my bed. Held it up on my headboard to write [From: Scott E. Dance.] I ran out of space, but I guess. She doesn’t know the difference, and there’s that Charles Dance, from England. He always plays a badguy, because he’s British, and he looks greasy, like a weasle.
He’s in Game of Thrones, I know that, even if I don’t get to watch it, because. Well, we watched 1, but then we had to go to our rooms, and mom turned it off, because it was getting a little too mature for us, to watch.
She should have read the books first. Tasha said, she knew what was going to happen, because she read the books, but she didn’t tell us. I figured that they were going to have sex, since the dragon princess just married the Aquaman dude.
“Okay, so let me get some construction paper. You have any pink?”
“Uh uh. I used it all up.” Of course, since it’s her favorite color and all. Probably because she’s blonde, and blue. I think it’s mostly blonde haired, blue eyed girls that like pink so much, like Barbie? I don’t know, but it’s not as hard for me to talk to girls, as it is for the other boys, since I have 2 sisters to practice on.
She ran into the art room, with the bottles rattling in the nail polish. Bucket, I guess. It looks like a basket, because it was an Easter Basket from a couple years ago, but it’s really more like a plastic bucket, only with the handle fixed so it doesn’t flop down on the sides, and they just molded the plastic to look like a basket.
“Let’s paint it!” Any excuse to get into the nail polish, but I guess they all had tiny brushes in the caps, and that would be the best thing to make it pretty for.
Whatever her name is. She said Gwen, but then her room mate didn’t know who I was talking about, until I said it again. She didn’t have any posters up, for Spider Gwen, or Gwenpool, but then again. She doesn’t look like Gwen Stacy, either. She’s got dark hair, and eyes, with a deep tan, and frizzy hair.
“Huh!” She said Aggie, then Abbie too. So is it Agatha, or Abigail, like that goth chick on NCIS? Actually, now I’m remembering things, that I didn’t really think of at the time. Like the books she had on the shelf, in the middle of her headboard. Not school books, but Mrs. Marple. Isn’t that Agatha Christie?
So, she lied about that too, because she didn’t want me to know their real names, and knowing where they live doesn’t really help, neither.
“Let me see it.”
“No wait.” I looked down, and unfolded it. “Let me cut another one.” Without the fold down the middle, I just folded it in half to make a perfect heart in the bottom, but that left plenty of room on the top. So, I held those 2 together, and cut out another heart, with the first one. Only without the fold in the middle.
“Here, you take this one.” Instead of letting her do it for me, It might be a better idea if I just watch what she does, and copy it. Not exactly, that’s plagiarism, but just to get some idea of what she might like, until Tasha gets home.
Well, okay. She’d probably want something black, instead of pink. Since she, well. She’s not Goth, she’s Emo, but I can’t tell the difference. It looks like Goth with a little more color, like her bangs. Whatever color she dyed them this weak, but that means Emotive rock. So, I guess they sing about their feelings, and that’s why girls like Emotive bands, because they’re full of boys that sing about there feelings.
Girls like boys, that talk openly, and honestly, about our feelings.
“Hm,” she started humming to herself, but off, and on. So, i don’t know what tune it was, but just. “Hm hm. Hm…”
She just painted swirls, and doodles, but pretty ones. I guess, I can see that. It’s pretty, and if it doesn’t mean anything, I dug around in the nail polish basket to pick one out.
[Fuchsia Shock] I tried a dab of that, but on the red matte paper, it just looked, well. Like a shiny spot, so if I wrote anything, it would be just as hard to read as the red letters in the black and white squares, with smaller letters on the poster they had.
Instead of a window, in between their beds, like sisters? Kinda, I think. I don’t know really, what that must be like, since I had my own room, but they must see each other naked, and in there undewear together, all the time, and maybe even get horny enough to get out their toys.
There sex toys, the tiny little pink plastic egg, and the 10 black plastic dong I never saw, but I heard about. I can just imagine, but she liked me watching her, playing with her little vibrator egg. So, maybe she liked her room mate to, or watching her, masturbate. With the big black plastic 10 incher.
“Huh! I’m going to. Go put on some music.” It turned out that mom liked Elvis Costello too, which is weird, because he looks pretty nerdy, on the album cover. It helped, to take the pressure off my penis, after I rubbed it raw, and lost count of how many times I woke up. With a boner of course, and images of bouncing tits still dancing in my head.
No, not like sugarplums. I don;t thin, or that weird elvish looking chick from the Sugarcubes, with the big wide mouth.
“Huh!” I have to be careful, pulling it out. Just hold it by the sides, and the real tricky part is getting it on the post, without scratching it. Then, put down the needle gently, and then turn on the motor, so it starts spinning. “Oh,” I looked up at the label, before it was spinning too fast, then turned over the folder it came in. To look up the B side, and see what song was coming on next.
[(The Angels Want to Wear My) Red Shoes] Then, [Less than Zero]
Tasha (fB Sex Talk)
“Scotty, Ree?” I dropped my bookbag off, and hung up my jacket.
“In here.” In the playroom, they were working on Valentines, together.
“Oh, good.” Some honky tonk sounding music on.
“We’re making Valentines!” Ree ran up, and hugged my waist.
“I see that.”
“Well, if I was a saint with a silver cup, and the money got low we could always heat it up, or trade it in.”
“You guys know, if mom catches you listening to her old records.”
“Then the radio to heaven would be wired to your purse.”
I shut it off.
“It’s okay, I was careful.”
“Huh, well.” I picked up the jacket, and lifted the plastic cover on the record player. “She still doesn’t trust you, I guess.”
“You like Elvis Costello?”
“He’s all right.” I shrugged, “When did you start listening to oldies?” Slipped it in the envelope, before I dropped it in the cover, to put it back.
“Well, there’s this girl. I think she likes him, or.” He thought, “Maybe it was her big sister’s poster, I don’t know. We never got around to talking about music, and stuff, but.” I went through the CDs. Since those are easier to handle, and even if they do get scratched, you can always buff it out with the resurfacer. “You think he’s romantic?”
“Well, I guess he’s got more romantic songs. Oh.” I pulled out Mighty like a Rose. “So, you think she likes you?”
“She told me, she likes my butt. Or ass.”
“Sh!” I shut the door, but Ree didn’t even look up.
“Sorry, but she said ass, not butt. She said I had a cute little ass.”
“Huh!” I shook my head, “Well, hah hm. I guess, a red heart makes sense, for her then.” I popped the disk in, and looked up the track. Typed in the number, and hit play, so it squealed, spinning up.
“This ones kinda romantic, to start.”
“Then it gets dark, like that Allison song?”
“You listened to the whole album, huh?”
“Yeah, uh huh? So, I don’t know how to show her, how I feel about her. Can you help me, with my Valentines for her?”
“Sure. What’s she like?”
“Well, she’s tall, and. Outgoing, she’s really confident, and smart, but also kinda secretive, and mysterious. Oh, you mean what does she like, or what Is she like?”
“No, that’s good. Huh! You’re going to make her so happy.” I wish I could find a boy, that said stuff like that, about me. Instead of all the usual high school boy stuff. Honestly, it’s a waste of time doing your hair, and getting made up, when they hardly look at your face, and all they seem to care about is tits, and ass. “She really said that? She likes your. Butt?”
“Yeah, she said she likes my cute little ass. Just like that.”
“Huh, so she has a dirty mouth.”
“Yeah, and a dirty mind too.”
“Well, probably not. Really, for an 8th grader?”
“Well, if you don’t tell anyone, especially mom, and dad. You know, when I was in 8th grade, I was starting to think about. Huh, well going to high school. I guess, I was looking forward to being in school with the older boys. Most Jr. high boys, they aren’t as mature as you are.”
“Yeah, right?” He nodded. “I can’t even talk about this stuff with them, because they don’t know sh. Anything, about girls. They just make stuff up.”
Ree (g solo. mf flashback)
I heard them, Scotty said his girlfriend liked his ass. His cute little ass, but it didn’t look cute, or little to me.
“Hm hm hn. My name is Drew.”
I signed it, and folded it up. “Oh!” Too soon, the paint didn’t dry yet. So, it stuck together, and squished all over the place inside, like a sandwitch.
“Huh!” I better wait for them to come back, so he can cut me another one to start all over again. I’m not supposed to play with scissors, they’re sharp.
I hope he likes it. Drew, he’s a boy in my class, and he’s got pretty eyes. Pretty blue eyes, even prettier then me, but brown hair. It’s short, and scruffy when he takes his hat off. So, he has to brush it back up with his fingers, then come sit down next to me.
I like his butt. He’s got a cute little butt, too.
BLANG! They opened up the door. “Here lies the powder and perfume!”
“Oh, there’s more romantic songs then this.” Tasha went back, and changed the song.
“Sweet Pear, Sweet Pear. Though they say they loved you they never dared!”
“This one’s more romantic.” She came back, but left the door open.
“I’ll watch out for you, I’ll always be there. In the hour of your distress, you need not fear.
“Thanks for doing this. I don’t know too much about this romantic stuff.”
“In all the world there’s only one true love. And finding it’s hard enough!”
I had to yell over the loud music. “Can you cut me another heart?”
“Now, Ree.” Tasha sat down. “Don’t use up all the nail polish, you know mom hates it when you waste so much of it.”
“Uh huh! I’ll use another color this time.” I dug around in the basket.
“What color goes with red.”
“Pink!” I found the sparkle one, and showed him. “See?”
“Yeah, but that’s hard to read on the red paper, look?”
“What’s it say?” Tasha shook her head.
“Nothing? I don’t know what to say, so I just made doodles.”
“Well, you need something complimentary that doesn’t clash, so green.”
“Mommy doesn’t have any green nail polish.” I checked!
“No, of course not, but go get the crayons.”
“Owh!” Scotty whined, “But crayons are so kindergarten! Can’t we use markers, or colored pencils, or something?”
“Hm hm?” I piked up my skirt, like an apron. That’s how mommy carries a bunch of scraps, when she cuts too many veggies, to carry them out to the compost. Filled it up with crayons, and markers, and colored pencils, and. “What about water colors?” I held up the compact, and grabbed a brush.
“We don’t have any pastels.”
“No, but the water colors should be just as good as pastels. Bring them here.”
I dumped it all on the table, and then went back to got some smocks. Since we’re going to be painting, I like painting, best of all. I like the brushes, and since they’re busy, I took one with me to the bathroom.
“I swear, this is my prayer, though we’re smeared, and scattered in the atmosphere. Or lost in the world, across a crowded room, I am your stupid lover, your precious foooooool!”
“Huh!” He was so romantic. What’s his name? I want to listen to him sing about love, again, and again, but I’ll ask them who he is, after I get done in here.
I hope he has a mustache, too. I like boys with mustaches, they tickle! “Ihn hmhmhn!” Just like the brush, but with the music turned up so loud, in mommy and daddy’s room. So, they can hear it all the way down the hall, in the art room, I don’t think they can hear me, and besides, there busy.
“Smuip!” I licked the other end of the brush, but it’s nice and clean. I washed it! Every time we play art, I have to wash it, and set it up to dry. So the brush doesn’t stick together, but I have to get the other end wet, so it’s slippery, and not too hard to wiggle it in.
“If I am frightened,” he sang, “Then I can hide it.” I wasn’t too scared, and I knew what to do. Ever since last Halloween, when Tasha hooked up with that boy, dressed up like Batman.
They didn’t have a Black Widow outfit, at the party store, but it was the easiest costume to make. She doesn’t even wear a mask, just dies her hair red, and the hard part was finding a belt with a red hourglass buckle on it.
“If I am crying, I’ll call it laughter.”
“Huh!” Deep. “Ihn!” I had to pull it out, and lick it, further down. He had to take off his gloves, with the spikes curving back on his arms. While she unzipped her top. She couldn’t find it all in one piece, so she had to match the top, and bottom, but the belt covered it up. Then, he stuck his hand inside, and squeezed her on one side.
She wasn’t supposed to go out, without a bra on under it, bus she took it off, when nobody was looking.
“If I am haunted, I’ll call it my imaginary friend.”
Then, she unzipped his pants, and got his little friend out. His hairy little friend, it was sleepy, and droopy, and sad, but then it woke up. Stood up straight, and she squatted down.
Stuck it in her mouth.
“Mhn nh nh!”
Nodding, and letting it slip in and out of her lips.
“If I am bleeding, I’ll call it wine.”
I’m not bleeding. Not yet, but when I did. That first time, it hurt, but then, it felt better, and better, but it left a little streak in my undies. A pretty pink streak, in the white crotch of my panties, so I had to hide them. Like a brush stroke, from a tiny little brush, so I took it out, and flipped it over. To tickle up, and down again.
Listening to the rest of the song…
This time the soundtrack is dietetic, if a little saccharine. Just to contrast how different children may react to sexual abuse.
Of course, Uhura was molested, by a man old enough to have a mustache for her to ride. She just didn’t think about it, this time.
Instead, she remembered her sister hooking up for consensual sex, with a Dark Knight on Halloween. I assume that was an ice breaker, “Nice costume…”
Yeah, black is so slimming, but again. Tasha probably became so Histrionic to act out some sort of precocious sexualization, plausibly by the same friend of the family. However, she acted differently, or at least chose a darker color palate.
Meanwhile, being a boy, Scott couldn’t even admit to himself that he was Raped. That’s not an option, because predatory coeds don’t seduce middle school boys to molest them, then rape them when they pass out, right?
Of course not. To be continued…
Scott (B Monologue. Again B is for Boy, not yet a teen, but starting to be more aware of his sexuality.)