From: grantb@sirius.com
(Formerly: an454887@anon.penet.fi)
Date: Sat, 30 Mar 1996 22:19:32 UTC
Subject: "The Passing of Seasons" ff/teen/very cons (fwd)
NON-STANDARD DISCLAIMER
This story is written for adults and involves a consensual relationship
between to older teen girls. If you are a teenager, we as adults don't
think
that you should read this even though you are sexually mature and probably
have much more sexual desire than we do, but we are merely jealous of your
sexual virility. Please leave us alone to *fantasize* about being your age
once again. I'm sorry but you'll have to wait until you're at least 18
before you can have your own fantasies. Preferably you should wait until
you're at least 30 or older, that way you can really have something to
fantasize about: your very own teenaged years!
I would appreciate any *positive* feedback about this story, including
your feelings as you read the story. Enjoy!
"Passing of Seasons" Chapters 8 by Linda B.
My favorite books were romantic novels, especially those that took place
in the medieval times. In them I found all the necessary ingredients for my
wildest fantasies: Castles, knights in shining armor, princes to sweep me of
my feet and ride off into the nearest sunset. Nothing to do but stroll around
all day in fancy dresses through the flower gardens.............
But, there was a darker side to my fantasies too, where masked men would
lock a steel collar around my neck and lead me by chains into that room.
The one with a table in the middle of it. The table on which I would
inevitably be strapped down and "prepared" for sex, usually by a full
compliment of beautiful maidens. They would braid my hair and rub my entire
naked body with perfumed oil. And then, of course, they would make sure I was
*very* wet in the most important place. For this, a specially shaped "tool"
was used. Not surprisingly, it vaguely resembled a full-grown penis. I would
squirm to no avail when I saw it coming. This would only earn me the
punishment of having my breasts put into this special bra-like contraption
made of leather with holes for my nipples so they could be pulled out just to
the point where it started to hurt and held there by clamps on the bra.
Mom had always made me feel that touching myself was somehow wrong and
that I shouldn't do it. Knowing I would feel guilty afterward was usually
enough to keep me from doing it, but not then, I was getting much too hot
thinking about my favorite fantasies. Fantasies that by now usually included
Jennifer.
Thinking about that dildo made me want to use something other than my
fingers this time, something stiff and long. But what was there in the house?
Sure, mom probably had a dildo tucked away somewhere, and knowing her, it
probably had "keep out of reach of teenagers" stamped all over it!
My mind raced through the house: candles, a bar of soap, my hair brush
handle, none of which sounded too appealing. Various fruits and vegetables
seemed the most promising to me, but which ones?
Mom would sure get suspicious if I pulled a zucchini out of the fridge
for a snack. I don't even like the stupid things *cooked* for crying out
loud! After deciding that a banana would probably be too soft, I settled on
a carrot.
The kitchen was empty and dark when I snuck in quietly, making my way
over to the refrigerator. Luckily, a nice selection of carrots were available
for "snacking" I pondered momentarily which one would provide the most
pleasure. The one with the big "S" curve was completely out of the question,
as were several other smallish ones. There were two medium sized carrots that
looked appetizing, both having lots of ridges. I wonder how *they* would
feel, I thought. My finger tips caressed and stroked each one slowly, trying
to imagine how wonderful they might be inside me. I couldn't wait to find
out! Warming them up in the microwave would have been nice, but too risky.
I could imagine trying to explain *that* one to my mother!
Once back in my bed room, it wasn't long before I was being whisked away
to the castle, where various forms of exquisite pleasure would await me. My
transportation consisted of a cage on top of a wagon which was deliberately
paraded through the town. No pumpkin coach for this slave girl!
My nipples immediately hardened as I gently rolled them in my fingertips.
Suddenly the wagon stopped and three knights rode up, their horses clad
in armor.
They walked over silently, then unlocked the cage. I tried to hold on
as my body was pulled through the door. It didn't work.
Later....I would receive a well deserved and proper punishment.
But for now, it was time for the carrot.
Slowly and carefully I pushed it up into my vagina. It was a little
scary at first, at *very* first! I could feel each ridge of the carrot
stimulating my clit as it passed by. In and out, in and out, I could feel
myself being carried away.
Carried away in chains, to my favorite castle, my favorite room, my
favorite table. Where the knights awaited me. "Put her into the special bra
for her punishment," called one of them. While I was being held, they put me
into what was more like a large leather harness than a bra, complete with the
same sort of nipple clamping accessories as the other one. The clamps were
installed, just as I had hoped, then a leash was attached to them this time,
and I was led down a long corridor.
I could feel the blood rushing into my private areas, slowly writhing on
my bed, working the "tool" I held in my hand.
The tool that he held in his hand when I was urged through the doorway
into the room. The dust from the dirt floor was suspended in the sunlight,
shadowed by iron bars in the window.
The dark handsome figure motioned toward the table. I knew what they
wanted. I felt my weightless body being carried with the strength of several
men.
It felt like my whole body was rising, lifting off my bed, higher with
each stroke of the carrot. I spread my legs as wide as they would go,
imagining my captures in that room doing the same.
Suddenly everything started expanding, all my senses, my feelings.
Everything was getting bigger and bigger until it all exploded. My body
jerked up and down on the bed uncontrollably. I didn't know where I was or
who I was for that moment of time, that moment when time stands still for
eternity. It was an incredible orgasm, one I could only imagine sharing with
Jennifer.
Then there was a knock on my bedroom door. It was mom, no doubt, slowly
forcing the doorknob back and forth against the lock. No one else would
continue for so long. So agonizingly long.
"Sarah?"
My voice was muffled while I quickly jerked a shirt over my head. "Yes
mom."
"Can I come in?"
I felt like saying "no" right then, but her tone of voice had given away
the suspicion. She no doubt had come to find out what was going on, although
never asking me directly. Instead she kept glancing around the room, looking
for clues and distracting me with things like: "Aren't you excited about the
first day of school?" and "Tell me all about the books you've been reading
lately." Like I was going to believe she was interested in that! Right!
Little did she know, some of my favorite books and magazines were ones
I had dug out of the trash or "borrowed" from her reading room. You could
always tell which ones she had tried to hide. The magazine at the bottom of
the stack with a woman in leather and chains on the cover, or the book on the
top of the bookshelf with a title something like "Encouraging submissive
behavior through bondage." Small wonder where I got some of my fantasies!
Then came that dreaded question, one that I knew she would ask sooner or
later. Was I "prepared" for school. After all, it was tomorrow you know.
Oh, I almost forgot mom!
I was so afraid of not being prepared for school that I had let it
happen, as if purposely.
Summoning up my courage, I spoke. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be I
guess."
My mother wasn't impressed.
"Here Sarah, I got a few things for you." She handed me a bag with a
notebook, some pens, and few other basics in it. That was more than I was
going to bring.
But how could I? Go to school with nothing? What was I *doing* anyway?
I was obviously starting to cry, by then. Mom came over and hugged me,
patting me on the back. If only she could be there to help me, if only
someone. How Jenny could abandon me like this was hard to imagine. Didn't
she know how hard this was?
That was the only thing I could think of, riding my bicycle to school the
next day. Mom had offered to let me drive her car, a Mercedes convertible.
There was no way! It stood for everything I despised: Money, power, and
privilege. Besides that, what would the other students think of me? They
would think that I'm a stuck up, rich, bitch. That's exactly what they would
think.
"The Passing of Seasons" Chapter 9 by Linda B.
Lots of people had bikes, judging by how full the rack was at school.
There was only 2 or 3 slots left by the time I got there. I rushed in through
the large double doors, knowing I was probably late already.
A woman sitting behind a large table at the door asked my name, then she
handed me a folder full of stuff and pointed to my homeroom down the hall.
My face felt the heat of a hundred eyes bearing down on me as I opened
the classroom door. Being late the first day doesn't exactly make a good
impression.
Just as soon as I had gotten there, we were directed to the cafeteria
where tables had been set up for each of the courses being offered. It was
pretty much the same way it had been in Nebraska, so I knew the routine.
There were choices for sciences, mathematics, history and foreign languages.
Everything except English. That was required. On my course schedule,
I found an English class had been assigned to me already. Since I had plenty
of credits from my last school, I could take pretty much what I wanted. There
wasn't much. "French III" was the only sure thing; I knew Jenny was taking
that and luckily there was only one French teacher.
After signing up for the courses, we had a couple hours before
"orientation" started. Enough time to wander around and check the place out,
have lunch, and hopefully bump into Jenny somewhere along the way.
I hadn't said much more than "hi" to anyone when I struck out in search
of my locker which ended up being right across from the office door. Suddenly
I noticed how dressed-up everyone was, except for myself. It looked more like
a *runway* than a hallway, each young woman making her own "fashion statement"
with her own designer threads, or for some, cheap imitations. Living with my
mom had given me the wisdom to know the difference.
And there *I* was, dressed entirely in denim, my hair tied up and tucked
under a baseball cap.
As I began putting books and things away in my locker I heard a familiar
voice from behind me. It was Jenny's. I was so nervous, afraid to turn
around and look even when I heard her whisper "There's Sarah".
What I saw when I did finally turn around shocked me. There she was, in
full cheerleader get-up! First there was the pleated skirt, alternating
between white and the school color, burgundy. Then came the cleavage-
revealing, glitter look, sleeveless top. Rah,Rah!
I had to admit that I was really jealous. After all, Jennifer was
beautiful. Her hair was done up in those same delicious French braids she had
worn to my house that wonderful first day. Except for a slightly dark spot
under one eye, her makeup was flawless. Unlike some of the younger girls that
were giggling around her. When I looked into her eyes I felt the warm emotion
flowing into me like the breeze through an open summer window.
"Hi Sarah!" She smiled, acting as if everything was just fine. It
wasn't.
My head was half turned away when I answered. "Hi Jenny."
Just as she started introducing me to her friends, I heard this loud
group of guys coming down the hall. Sure enough, it was Tom and his cronies!
I thought I would be sick when I saw him in his football uniform. About every
2 seconds someone had to punch his shoulder and say something like "Way to go
Tom" or "State champions this year." All of their laughing and joking seemed
to come to an abrupt end just about the same time Tom saw Jenny talking to me.
"Hey babe." Tom spoke with a ridiculous "I'm Mr. Cool" voice. Only his
tag-alongs were impressed. "We have to get going, the newspaper people are
here to get our pictures."
Jenny rolled her eyes back, trying to ignore him. It couldn't have been
easy.
"Sarah, this...is..mmm..my friend Cindy." She sounded frightened, and
understandably so. In that uniform Tom seemed almost as wide as he was tall.
Who would say "no" to someone like that?
Tom put his hand on Jenny's shoulder. It wasn't there for long before
Jenny politely removed it.
I heard an "ooooh!" come out from behind Tom, but you couldn't see around
him to see who it was. It was as if they were saying, "You're going to let
her get away with that? You? *Big Tom*? The football star?"
His face looked even meaner now. "I *said*.....Lets go."
I just had to say something, I didn't care who the hell this guy thought
he was.
"Can't you take a hint Tom, she obviously doesn't want to go with you."
I started regretting saying anything when I saw the look on Tom's face as he
stepped through the group of girls around me.
"Are you talking to me." He pointed to himself, looking around at the
crowd that was gathering. He kept coming closer and closer.
"Leave her alone, Tom." Jenny begged.
Tom chuckled. "*Her*? The tough guy?"
He wasn't the first one to suggest I was a boy so I wasn't really
bothered by the comment. Where I grew up I was the only girl in the
neighborhood and it took plenty of wrestling matches to prove I was just as
tough as they were. I had even taken some self-defense classes at my dad's
insistence, though nothing I could really use against Tom. I wasn't about to
try pulling some kind of slick jump kick on someone that was three times my
size.
"You've got a big mouth." He barked, pointing his finger right into my
breast so hard it pushed me back. I tried not to give him the satisfaction
of knowing how much that hurt. The next time his finger came at me I
deflected it easily, but the space between my back and the lockers had run
out.
At that point the whole world starting fading in and out. I could hear
Jenny telling him over and over to leave me alone. I could smell alcohol on
Tom's breath as he slowly moved closer and closer. At that point I wasn't
thinking anymore, my survival instincts had taken over.
I drove my knee right between Tom's legs with full force making him
double over right in his tracks.
By then several teachers and the principal had come out of nowhere asking
what had happened. Tom was kneeling on the floor by that time and I was
crying my eyes out. Nobody would say anything. Twenty people standing around
and no one saw anything!
A big guy in sweats ran up to Tom, he must have been the coach. "What
the hell's going on here? Come on big guy, are you O.K.?" Tom's head nodded
"yes" but through my teary eyes I could see different story. He wasn't O.K.
at all. And it wasn't long before the football coach found out what had
happened and not much longer after that before he was telling the principal
to suspend me.
"I want her out of here." He pushed the words through a narrow slit in
his clenched teeth. Then they moved the conversation into the office along
with Tom, but I could still barely hear it.
I recognized the principal's wimpy voice. "Oh my, I just don't know what
to do."
"What the hell am *I* gonna do? Huh? If Tom can't play tomorrow, we're
gonna loose."
Suddenly a third voice cut in, one I didn't recognize. "That's your
problem. Tell your *fucking* jock here to pick on some his own size and
preferably his own gender."
"Now, now, John. I'm sure we can come to an agreement here without
arguing."
"Carey doesn't give a shit if we win or loose. He doesn't give a shit
if Tom gets that scholarship to Yale."
"Yale? You know John, these scholarships to big schools *do* mean a lot
for our image. And you know as well as I do, that....as the principal here,
I really have to support that. We really do John."
"How about some *FUCKING* *ACADEMIC* scholarships for a change of pace?
Can you support that?"
"A scholarship's a scholarship. It's *Yale* John. Yale for crying out
loud! Nobody's going to ask what *kind* of scholarship. Last year we sent
one to Harvard and one to Stanford. Makes us look really good John, really
does."
"I'm not passing any more *fucking* *jocks* who can barely spell their
own name so we look good. No more." Then I heard stomping footsteps leaving
the office.
I had sat there on the floor against my locker the entire time, head on
my knees, still shaking. I finally looked up to see Jenny standing there by
herself. We both smiled at each other, then she sat down next to me and held
me. It was a scene that always seemed to repeat itself. Jenny always coming
to the rescue when I was the most hurt, she always seemed to be there when I
needed her most.
I wanted desperately to know what had happened to Jenny during those long
days I'd spent alone in my room. I began to suspect that it was something
bad during that uneasy silence.
The hallway that only minutes ago bustled with activity was now strangely
quiet. And inside me there was the same quietness. There were no words to
say, no way to describe how I felt. But Jenny knew somehow, later I would
find out why. I sensed her strength when her hand reached out to help me up
off the floor. The symbolism of her gesture really hit me.
We walked together down the long hallway and out the side door. Secluded
among the tall grass and redwood trees, we sat down. Soft afternoon light
filtered through the trees and danced across Jenny's face. Those eyes of hers
were so deep, so intense, they seemed to look right through me. It was as if
everything was revealed, my entire being naked before her. An incredible
emotional bonding was taking place, one that I would never experience again.
She cradled and held me like a baby until I was completely at peace.
"Can you talk?" She asked with a concerned look.
A big smile spread across my face as we made eye contact again. "Do you
know how wonderful you are?"
For a moment we laughed, then her expression changed back to serious.
"I'm sorry....about not calling you. There were some problems."
What sort of problems? I wondered, knowing that they couldn't possibly
be any worse than I had imagined. But it was better not to ask. I figured
when she was ready, she'd tell me. "I really missed you Jenny, and worried
about what happened."
There was an uncomfortable feeling in the air, like I was getting too
close to what was going on with her. Her face was telling me. And one and
one were beginning to make two.
I struggled to get the words out. "I'm afraid of Tom....and for you."
"Hey, come on now, it's going to be O.K." She dodged the issue
gracefully, putting me back in the spotlight. "He really hurt you didn't he?"
Her arms reached out again and held me. It was so soothing and gentle the way
Jennifer stroked my face and whispered how it was going to be all right. So
loving, so understanding, but there was something wrong. I just couldn't put
my finger on it.
Just then I remembered, jumping up to look at my watch. "Oh, no Jenny!
We're going to be late for orientation, it's five after two already!"
Jenny chuckled, grabbing at my shirt as I tried to get up. "Relax Sarah,
no one ever goes to that. It's just for new....well, you don't need it. The
only thing that's going on today is the pep rally at three thirty. Coming?"
She must have *known* that I didn't want to go to that *stupid* thing.
"Prep rally" is what some of the other students were calling it. Chewing on
a piece grass, I stared out across the empty football field, not really
wanting to answer the question.
Jenny tried to make eye contact. "I've got to go and get ready. See you
there? Please?"
She managed to get a smile out of me as she left which was about as close
to to a "yes" answer as there was.
Down on the field, a transformation was slowly taking place. First there
were chairs were set up, loudspeakers, streamers and big signs followed.
Next, the people came. Only a handful at first, then more and more until it
was a huge crowd. Every single man, woman, child, and dog from the whole
county must have been there. In the end I figured I might as well go too.
Travelling down the winding path to the field made me think about my life
and where I was going. Fitting in at this high school was probably going to
be difficult at best, especially after what had happened that day.
On the other hand, all the newness of California was wonderful. Walking
along, sipping on the dry sweet smell of pine trees, looking up through a
thousand shades of green seemed to breathe life back into me. There was an
energy here that I hadn't experienced before.
And yet there was that painful awareness that there would be
repercussions from my "incident" with Tom earlier that day. In the back row
of bleachers I couldn't help but feel isolated. And I was. While no one knew
me, everyone probably had heard about me and seemed to be avoiding me.
One by one they announced the players on the football team to loud
screams and applause as they took the field. They saved Tom for last, who
received a standing ovation for probably five minutes straight. The limp was
noticeable, as well as a slight grimace on his face when he walked. A few
guilt feelings started surfacing for a split second before I caught myself.
Then something caught my eye on the sidelines, the cheerleading squad had
started their routines. It was something to see. Instead of the more
conservative outfit that Jenny had been wearing earlier that day, they had
these juicy little short, ass length skirts and even a more revealing top.
The first part was a fairly simple dance routine with a bunch of cartwheels,
handstand-like flips and various cheers.
My eyes kept focusing on Jenny, her breasts bouncing along as she danced
with graceful movements. I started having some strange feelings inside
watching her, almost wanting to be there with her. Wanting to dance, to be
attractive like she was. And as usual, getting excited sexually.
Then they made a human pyramid with Jenny standing on top.
You just knew people were trying to see what they could see of her
scantily clad body. Wasn't that the intention, after all? And she got plenty
of mileage out of that *pert* little back end of hers, that's for sure. There
was more than one opportunity to flaunt it, waving that frilly little skirt
tail to a thunderous applause.
One of the best parts was when they were all lined up facing the crowd,
chanting something that sounded like "go-team-go....kick-em-in-the-groin".
Then, after they all crouch down, my favorite cheerleader comes running in
from the side, jumps up and lands across their shoulders and goes into a
split. The whole group starts rotating like a giant propeller around the
field, Jenny spinning around on top, pompoms shooting out in every direction.
It was an excellent show, one that would surely bring a lot more fans to the
games, myself included.
A few of the teachers got up to speak. Each one reiterated how important
it was for everyone to be "committed" to the teams success, etc. Next it was
the coach's turn, repeating the same mantra one more time, like we needed it
already! It seemed it a little strange to me, but he went on to tell the
crowd that despite Tom's "injury" earlier today, he would be able to play in
tomorrow's game which of course they would win.
It was probably time for me to disappear at that point, although I really
wanted to see if I could find Jenny in the crowd of small groups now scattered
throughout the playing field. Maybe even talk to her? About the feelings I
was having once more. The feelings of excitement, of tenderness, of
adolescent sexual desire.
Should I have let her talk me into becoming a cheerleader? I wondered.
Maybe then we could spend more than two minutes together. There was just no
one else in the world right now except Jennifer and by the looks of things,
I would have to wait in a long line for her attention.
The next day in school I was greeted by more of the same silent treatment
that I had received the first day. Jenny was constantly surrounded by people
every time I saw her. How in the world was I ever going to get a minute to
even say "Hi"?
Early that day I had discovered her locker, not that I wasn't looking for
it or anything! Then this thought crossed my mind. A note could easily be
slipped in through the vents at the top when the coast was clear. MMMM, yes,
a *love* note! I always fantasized about finding one or two in my locker from
that "secret admirer." Possibly she could be reminded of our previous
expeditions up mount orgasm? Or maybe I should mention how much I just
*adored* brushing her soft, beautiful hair or licking her earlobes until I
teased up a full complement of goosebumps? Or how about the feelings we had
when our nipples were introduced and got to know each other? Talk about love
at first sight!
To avoid embarrassing her, I decided to condense it just in case someone
else saw it. It went like this:
"Dearest Jennifer,
I watched you yesterday at the pep rally. You were wonderful,
beautiful. I miss the times we spent together when we first met.
Your my best friend, I need you so much. Please come over to my
house after school today at five?
RSVP!
Love,
Secret admirer."
And just in case there was any doubt who this "secret admirer" was, I
dabbed some perfume on the note. The same one that *somehow* ended up getting
on her in my bedroom.
Memories and emotions overcame me as the fragrance briefly filled the
air, making me feel all soft and romantic inside. I rubbed the note all over
my neck before dropping it off at it's final destination. That only brought
up even more of those weak and wonderful feelings.
Classes went well although we really didn't do much other than go over
course requirements and schedules for the year. The one exception was French
III. Ms. Le Fevre never spoke anything but French which was obviously *her*
native tongue and obviously *not* mine! Any questions or answers in English
were greeted by a shrug of her shoulders. From what my mom had told me, this
was something that many an English speaking tourist had experienced in France.
So much for realism.
I was pretty much lost throughout the whole thing, picking up no more
than bits and pieces of the strained conversations. The tension in the
crowded classroom air was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
For some reason, Jenny wasn't there as I had expected. Maybe she wasn't
taking the class? Talk about a depressing thought! Normally I would see her
between classes and later that day I realized another one of Jenny's
mysterious disappearing acts had taken place. It made me wonder what was
going on even more.
"The Passing of Seasons" Chapter 10 by Linda B.
When I got home, there was a note from mom saying she was taking care of
"business" at the store. Business that usually meant shopping. And *lots*
of it. She took the whole process quite seriously. I remember well the one
time I went along. It was a big mistake. Her rude, impatient attitude
embarrassed me over and over again. The second we left the house she was in
this kind of "get the hell out my way" frenzy, acting more like an addict in
desperate need of a fix than anything else.
As the shopping progressed, the change in my mother went slowly from
night to day. With each beep of the cash register, each signature, each
detour back to the car, mom was more and more elated, as if her emotional high
was somehow electronically linked to the credit card balance.
But what happened when we got home that day sickened me the most. My
dad greeted us and asked her how she was doing. Nothing was said. Instead,
he was immediately taken by the hand and escorted to the rear of the car,
where she proceeded to open the trunk lid, exposing the vast quantities of
her "booty".
"Just *look* in there," her eyes glazed over insanely as she spoke.
"That's how I feel! Right there!"
I watched the living room clock nervously at it approached that magic
hour, five O'clock. The hour when hopefully Jenny would show up.
With each passing minute the prospects grew dimmer like the slowly
setting sun through the window shades. Had she even seen my note? If so, why
wasn't there a reply?
Suddenly there was a soft knock at the door and I jumped up to answer it.
As I opened the door I could feel everything bubbling up inside me with
anticipation.
Wow! Was she a sight, wearing this off-the-shoulder white dress with
wide straps that crossed in front, widening enough to barely encompass her
breasts. Her arms crossed in front too, making those pointy shoulders poke
out seductively.
Jenny looked like a sweet southern belle, an image of delightful
femininity.
Sure, I knew that being feminine is much more than wearing darling
dresses and lace and cute hairdos.
I knew that. But inside me there was this desire to be that beautiful
flower, just like Jennifer was. To be caught up in that whimsical flight of
fancy. Of being totally and completely "girl." I was in love with the
thought of it and in love with love itself.
It sure looked like she had really gone well out of her way to look extra
pretty that day. But for me? I could only dream of being the object of her
affection, she had so many other friends. Looking at how attractive she was
started stirring up all these romantic, dreamy feelings again. It was too
embarrassing for me to admit to being such a tomboy. Too hard to admit being
afraid of being a girl, of not knowing what it was all about. But desperately
wanting someone other than mother to help me sort things out. Someone I could
trust. Someone like Jenny.
Maybe, I wondered, if I dropped some subtle hints, would she figure out
what I really wanted? The only question left was.....how?
"Jenny? Do you think boys would.....uh...think I was....well....cute?"
So much for subtle hints. I never was very good about beating around the
bush.
She put her hand under my chin and spoke in soft, caring voice. "Oh,
Sarah! Of course I do. *I* think you're cute."
Suddenly I was pushing back tears, trying to avoid eye contact and
knowing she probably felt sorry for me. What did I expect her to say anyway?
NO, I THINK YOU'RE UGLY! Not that it would have been a surprise or anything.
Jenny was silent for a moment before finding the right words. "I read
an article recently called 'taking charge of your looks' that talked about how
each of us has our own beauty and how we can do things to *enhance* it, but
we first need to have peace with ourselves an accept who we are."
It made me feel really wonderful to hear that. Even though I would never
look like Jenny, it wasn't like my looks were something to be ashamed of. As
far as acceptance was concerned, though, there was a ways to go.
'Taking charge'. Mmmmm. I liked the sound of that. Yet another
favorite fantasy came to mind. One where an attractive girl like Jenny or
better yet, a group of them would suddenly notice that I was just a bit too
*boyish*, a little too tom-boyish and that *something* would have to be done
about it. And right away, too! First I would hear little whispers, catching
just enough of the conversation to know that they were talking about me. Then
after listening more closely, the realization would come: they were deciding
what they were going to *do* about it. More specifically, what they were
going to do to *me*. Completely excited, yet scared, I would fantasize about
the treatment I was going to get. There would be no choice. Not that they
*had* to force me or anything, but they *were* very persuasive and *very* firm
about things. Things that included a complete makeover, lots of romantic,
feminine clothes and jewelry. Those kinds of things. Throughout the entire
day I would be pampered and prettied nonstop, never having been asked my
opinion on anything. Everything would be decided for me. What I should wear,
what color my lipstick would be, how my hair would be cut. Everything. Talk
about a fantasy that I would *never* admit to *anyone*! How embarrassing!
How much *more* embarrassing to actually *do* it! But then, wasn't the
complete and total *embarrassment* part of what made the whole thing so
exciting in the first place?!
"Jenny? This is kind of embarrassing, but...." A hot blush flooded my
face. It was almost impossible to say it. These big waves of weak and tingly
sensations kept passing through me as I tried to force it out. I told myself,
"You're *going* to say it! Yes, you know you want it and you're going to get
it!"
"Ummm.....I was kind of wondering...wondering if you could.........maybe
help me choose some pretty clothes and....well things like that maybe, you
know?" Talk about feeling stupid along with embarrassed! At that point my
face was buried in my lap, still trying to hide my utter humiliation over what
I had just confessed.
"You look cute when you blush," Giggled Jennifer, adding that she thought
red was one of my colors. Well I was sure wearing it enough!
"I really don't know much about all this stuff with colors and makeup,
you'll.........probably need to help me, if you don't mind?"
Jenny voice was sexy. "That sounds like fuuuuu.....uuuuuuun!"
I couldn't wait to get all of that attention. I wondered if she knew
*exactly* all that I had in mind. Probably not. Could there be a way to tell
her without risking even more embarrassment? Hopefully not. I was getting
much too excited by playing this little game of "hide and seek" with her.
I would probably need a lot of work, don't you think so Jenny? Oh, yes.
She tried to say it diplomatically. A "complete" makeover was just what I
needed, the kind you get at a mall department store. A mall that would
hopefully have a nice lingerie store, a formal wear shop, a beauty salon, and
plenty of maidens to attend to my every need.
"Jenny, this is going to sound strange, I don't know exactly how to say
it, but I uh......" I wished I hadn't known what I was about to say.
"It's O.K. sweetie." She put her hand under my chin.
"I hope I won't let you down or anything. I'm just kind of afraid of
that. That, like I might......like..chicken out or something at the last
minute or something like that, you know? You might have to make some
decisions for me."
Jenny started to get this silly grin on her face, Oh no! A chill of fear
went through my body thinking about the reality that was taking place: She
knew damn well what I was doing! Then it was explained how she couldn't
*wait* to model me into some of those skimpy little teddies at Freddy's. And
while I was there? Could I be so *kind* as to try on some of those
oh-so-sleazy little velvet cocktail dresses? And maybe, just maybe, she could
help me overcome all my fears. Help me by making her self available in the
dressing room to assist me, if that was *O.K.*, and maybe even if it wasn't!
You could see her wheels turning, figuring out something. Hopefully,
something that needed to be done to me. "Do you know what you need Sarah?"
Yes, I wondered, but did she? My whole body started quivering with
excitement as I waited for the possibilities to be made into probabilities.
"You need a *date*" She stuck her finger in the air as she spoke. "A
date for the big dance next month. It's going to be ballroom dancing, really
romantic. I can't wait!"
I pouted, "You really think someone's going to ask *me* to go?"
"When we're done with you, guys will be *lining* up for a date with you!"
I was starting to feel a bit like Cinderella talking to my fairy
godmother. Maybe I'd get that pumpkin coach after all!
"The Passing of Seasons" Chapter 11 by Linda B.
I often used my mother's absence as an opportunity to browse through her
latest "reading material". It wasn't long after Jenny arrived, that we found
ourselves sprawled out on my bed amidst a vast array of sexy magazines and
catalogs.
Because there hadn't been enough time to sort through them, I ended up
with some pretty heavy duty stuff.
Jenny dug up one that was buried at the bottom called "Submissively
Yours: Adult Toys Catalog for the Women who needs to be put in her place."
Mmmmmm! I thought, *playing* could take on a whole new meaning with some of
*those* toys!
"Lookie hear!" She gushed, pointing to some pushup bras with "optional"
nipple clamps, similar in many respects to the ones I fantasized about. Then
she held the catalog away from me so I couldn't see it. "OOOH-OOOH they have
a *leash* that you can attach........no way! A *vibrating* leash!
"Get out of town," I snickered, grabbing at the catalog, trying to pry
it away from her.
By then she was giggling out of control, rolling around on the bed while
fighting off my attempts to wrestle that thing away from her. Vibrating leash
all right! We'd see about that! But the mere *thought* of such a device was
enough to send tingly sensations spreading out all over me. In any case, one
thing was certain. I wanted one and I wanted it *now*!
"What *other* goodies do they have? Let me see." Hoping my new approach
would get her to hand over the catalog. No way!
"It's mine," she teased, waving it just in front of my face. "*I* had
it first! Oh I bet you've never seen one of *these*."
Of course I hadn't! Not with *her* hogging the darn thing!
"What is it? Come on tell me."
"A choker, I mean a *collar*, that's what it really is. MMMMMMM, *so*
submissive in this thing and I'm not even wearing it...yet! It says here it's
guaranteed to bring out the "weak and helpless" in *every* woman. I could
imagine it would, with that little miniature *padlock* dangling out in the
open like that. And it's loaded with *darling* little d-rings. 'One size
*forces* all'!
D-rings? What were those, I wondered. I was instructed that they were
for *attaching* various things. Things like leashes. Oh, *those* kinds of
things.
Eventually I managed to wrestle the magazine away her for more than five
seconds. Just long enough to get a look at the previously discussed hardware.
In reality the leash did not exactly vibrate, but delivered a mild electrical
stimulation, according to the advertisement. I could feel the electricity
flowing into my nipples already, and we hadn't even hooked it up yet!
The ad went on to say how the "corrections" could be administered by a
control on the end of the leash and how it was an effective "tool" for
training.
"Oh look Jenny, it says that these are good for....for....training?"
Acting like I had absolutely no idea what in the world they were talking
about. Yeah, right! I knew all about *slave* training, to be precise.
Jenny answered with a restrained smirk. "I *think* I know what they
mean. We played something like that at a party I went to last year."
Two questions. She did what?! And why wasn't I invited? Wait a minute
here, I thought. She was obviously trying to get me going again so I played
along with her little party game.
"So.....How *do* you play that game anyway?"
"Well, each person finds a partner. It works best with couples, you
know, boyfriend and girlfriend."
"Sounds *fun* already!" I blushed.
She went on to tell me how one person would be the train-er, and the
other the train-ee. Then some cards with different "activities" were passed
around. When I asked her what the cards said, that little stinker told me she
couldn't remember! Now where's that electric leash?
One of my favorite items in the catalog was the "soft" rope for "all your
basic bondage needs." According to the ad, it takes the rope burn out of
struggling. It went on to say that there's nothing quite like a good
struggle, just to let you know you're not *about* to get away. An
ever-present reminder that someone *else* is in charge. And, of course, a
good rope should be gentle, but *very* firm!
We looked at each other when we saw the order form in the back, neither
knowing exactly what to say. Should we order something? And if so, what?
Wait a minute, HOW?! Mom would freak out if she found out that....Hold on
here, Isn't *she* the one who had it in the first place? Why should *I* feel
guilty?
"Ummmmmmm........I need your exact street address, Jenny."
"No....uh....I think yours would be better! My dad's a cop, he'd
probably arrest us or something."
"Yeah," I added, "And then he would have to thoroughly test the
*evidence*!"
Jenny's face changed to serious. "You should hear him go on about all
this pornography and *drugs*, Oh, he has this thing about drugs. He's on a
crusade to rid the world of them."
I agreed that whatever we ordered should be delivered to my house. As
long as my name was on the package, it would probably be all right, though I
ended up leaving very specific instructions on a note attached to the order
form. There was to be *absolutely* no return address on the package, which
would require no less than *two* layers of packaging tape. Yet, still I felt
uneasy about the whole thing. Mom did, after all, have her "nosey" side.
Jenny was already busy, anxiously filling in the blanks.
"What have you got here?" I asked. "Come on now. Let's not be
bashful!" After some token resistance, she was persuaded to show me.
"Oooooh! I like this! You getting a....a *strap-on* vibrator! Let me
read about this." I cuddled up next to her and proceeded. "'Butterfly
strap-on vibrator.....In fact...*the only* strap on with wireless remote
control?!' No way! 'Has the all the range of a garage door opener? And three
times the fun'?!" Jenny's blushing face was now covered with her hands, but
I'm sure she could still hear me. "Look Jenny! It says right here that it's
*great* for those long walks on the beach! I hope you ordered two!"
And speaking of ordering, there were a few items on *my* shopping list
as well. Like for instance, some of that "soft" rope, maybe a hundred or so
feet. And I just *adored* the back velvet choker, you know, the one with
miniature padlock? But for the next part, some advice was needed.
"Oh Jennnnn...eeeeee! Jenny sweetie!" She shook her head, giggling
through a veil of fingers. "Jenny, I need to know which *nipple* clamps you
think would be the best. I don't want anything with *teeth*, like these ones
here." I pointed at the picture, not that she was *even* paying attention!
The ones called "vice-grips" didn't sound too appealing either. Then I
found them. "Comfort clamps". Just like the soft rope, they claimed to be
the comfortable solution for restraining problems.
It was no surprise at all to me when I noticed how *wet* things had been
getting under my panties, but the thought of having to wait for the "goodies"
to arrive was depressing. Even more depressing was how I felt about myself
and my appearance. Sitting down at my dresser, I examined my face. Then
Jenny's appeared with that contagious smile of hers as she walked over. She
motioned for me to get up from the chair. Before I even knew what was
happening, she was sitting in the chair pulling me down onto her lap, holding
me tightly against her body. Things were getting more exciting by the second
as I contemplated my fate.
Jenny winked at me in the mirror. "I just want you to know that I saw
that *carrot* of yours on the floor. Have you been a *naughty* girl? Tell
the truth now."
Shock waves went through my body as I wondered how anyone could be
foolish enough to leave such incriminating evidence out it the open like that?
Or did I? In any case, it was too late. The truth had been discovered. She
stared at me in the mirror waiting for an answer. Slowly I nodded my head,
ready to confess my awful deed. "Yes.....I've been *very* naughty!"
With her lips pressed to my ear, Jenny whispered softly, "What *should*
we do with you? Do you think you should be punished? Yes, that's right," she
added, nodding in agreement with herself. *Punished*! You *do* understand
that you *must* be punished." Oh I understood, all right! First I would have
to *ask* nicely if it wouldn't be too much bother to start my punishment right
away. I pretended to look ashamed of myself for doing such a naughty, naughty
thing such as pleasuring myself with a carrot.
"Please punish me, Jenny." I pouted, hoping that pleading guilty might
somehow lessen, I mean lengthen my sentence. Each of those words drove sharp
spikes of delight into my vaginal crevice and its punishment receptor, the
clitoris.
Jenny again made eye contact in the mirror. "*Give* me your hand!"
I did.
Then more instruction followed: "*spread* your legs." Hopefully I heard
that right. Jenny assisted me in the process just in case. I slumped back
helplessly in the chair with my neck stretched over her naked shoulder. She
giggled and whined something about my hair tickling her bare skin. Oh, what
a *poor* thing! Shouldn't *I* be allowed to complain too? Especially with
the previously threatened punishment about to begin?
My hand was grabbed tightly and directed between my legs. A little token
struggling went a long way toward putting me into sexual overdrive. Not that
it was really necessary!
Jenny guided my hand to it's final destination. In ever tightening
circles around my eroginous zone she made me feel the touch of my own fingers.
"Masturbation is *bad*," She councelled. "You've been naughty! Don't
you agree?" Of course I agreed. It was either that or risk the consequences.
I was in big enough trouble already!
I felt Jenny tugging at my pants' zipper, exposing my panties with a
single quick and forceful jerk. Next her hand gave mine a guided tour of what
was under my wears, stopping occasionally to twirl a strand of pubic hair here
or rub a special spot there. Jenny told me again how naughty it is to play
with oneself. Talk about a mixed message!
For the next part, my index and middle fingers were selected, pulled
apart from the rest, and pushed slowly up my slit. It took forever reach the
top. No doubt this was the intention of the one who was controlling them.
"I don't think you understand *just* how bad you've been," lectured
Jenny, pushing my fingers around my clitoris in a circular motion. Suddenly
it all started to make sense as I groaned with understanding.
She whispered, "What *are* we going to do with you?"
I did have a few ideas but they were inappropriate for discussion at that
point.
Meanwhile, my fingers, which seemed to have a mind of there own, probed
endlessly in search of my clitty. There was no real way for Jennifer to tell
exactly where it was except when I jumped, or moaned, or said
"mmmmmmm-hmmmmmm". It was strictly a "hit or miss" proposition.
But her aim seemed to improve as we went along, making me squirm with
delight every time she hit the target. The warmth of her breath on my neck
could only mean one thing: kisses were to follow. With my neck in such a
vulnerable position it was no surprise. The kissing lips traveled right up
my neck until they reached my earlobe where they changed into sucking and wet
licking. The kind of wet when your face gets too close to a *very* friendly
puppy.
"Repeat after me," they said. "I will *not* masturbate anymore. I will
*not* masturbate anymore." Every time she said the word "masturbate" my
fingers were pressed firmly into my clitoris, driving me wild with intense
stimulation.
I got the impression that it was my turn to speak. "I
will.......not........masturbate." Speech was difficult under the
circumstances. That was *before* Jenny started *french* kissing my ear! Then
it was impossible! But my lesson was far from over with. No-no-no! There
were other sentences I would have to repeat. Ones like "I am a naughty girl"
and "I deserve to be punished for being so dirty", for example. That's about
the time when things started getting a bit fuzzy.
Jenny had my fingers circling madly around my clitty while she used her
other hand to demonstrate how those nipple clamps were going to feel. My
nipples were receiving quite a work out as they were pulled, squeezed and
rolled into submission.
"Are we learning our little lesson now, Sarah dear?"
"Mmmmm-hmmmm," I mumbled as my body started twitching uncontrollably in
the chair, jumping each time I felt my fingers being manipulated into
position. My skin felt like it was crawling with electric pulses. My legs
went numb.
"I'm taking off Jenny. Hold me. Please don't let me go!"
The intensity of pleasure just kept spiraling upwardly, out of control
like some carnival ride gone haywire. Each time I was sure I was going to
climax, the intensity would only go to next level higher.
"Make me cum, please." I begged, while she played my fingers as if they
on a musical keyboard, taunting and teasing my pussy over and over again.
Then I was informed of the need for more repentance on my part for being such
a "dirty", "naughty" girl and touching myself. She was *clearly* enjoying
that part, you could tell. Why else would she say it so many times? And
pretending that I should feel guilty for the incident was turning me on just
as much. The next step in my punishment was a little spanking session for
which I led over to my bed and then had my ass bared for the procedure.
"Stand on your tippy toes, bend over and lay over on your bed," Demanded
Jennifer, pushing me into compliance. Lying on my bed with feet still
touching the floor and my back end sticking out, just begging to be punished,
was super exciting.
"First your going to get a nice little spanking, just like you deserve."
She hit me just hard enough to be exciting and yet *very* embarrassing.
Each time her hand touched down on my buns she would say "Bad girl!",
"*naughty-naughty*", or something similar.
"Are you ready to be a good girl?" She asked.
"Yes," I whimpered as I attempted to get up.
"I'm not done with you yet! You stay right there, and no peeking!"
I couldn't imagine what was coming next, hopefully me! She had brought
me so close to orgasm more times than could be counted. Weak and warn out,
I was desperate to be "finished off". Jenny was getting *something*, but
what?
When she got back my legs were again pulled apart and back like I was
about to be searched, *strip* searched! Then hands worked there way to my
vagina where my lips were spread apart.
"I believe you used *this*....."
Uuuuh! I felt something slowly being pushed into my pussy!
"......To *masturbate* with! I think you had *better* admit that
*right* now!"
I immediately recognized what she had inserted into my pussy, it was the
carrot all right! And from the feel of things, I was about to get
it.......and get it *good*!
"Passing of Seasons" Chapter 12 by Linda B.
Jenny obviously knew what she was doing with the carrot, pushing in and
out slowly, making sure I could feel every ridge as it passed my clitty.
It was so nice to be penetrated like that with my bare ass presenting
itself in such a fashion: Inviting, almost begging for attention. And the
thought of being a naughty little whore getting her deserved punishment was
something that fantasies were made of. Too bad I couldn't be wearing one of
those slut-suit French maid get-ups that seemed to dominate the catalog.
After all, a promiscuous girl like me deserves to be dressed up appropriately
in something that matches her attitude!
My body, drained of all strength, was ready to collapse on the bed if it
hadn't been for Jenny. She made certain that my fanny stayed propped up and
displayed prominently while working the "tool" faster and faster.
"I hope your learning something." She parented, wrapping her arms around
my waist tightly just to let me know that escape wasn't an option. The carrot
had been removed in order to get my full attention. It seemed to work.
"Do you know why you're being *punished*?"
I answered weakly. "Mmm-hmm".
Then my pussy lips received a liberal teasing with the carrot's tip while
she held me tightly, letting me know what was to soon to be inserted. After
pretending several times, the carrot finally re-entered with penetrations
synchronized with each word:
"*Masturbation*!"
"*Is*!"
"*Dirty*!"
I gasped for breath with every word as I felt wave after wave of delicate
warm sensations flowing through me. Jenny used her feet to spread my legs
even *further*, something I would have never believed possible. "This will
have to do until I can get you into the *spreader* bar that I ordered."
The what? Did she say "*spreader* bar"? My entire body shuddered at the
possibility. How could I have missed such a thing? A mechanical device to
force the legs into "ready" position? Why didn't I think of that? Wow!
What an idea!
But it was getting really hard to think straight by then and Jenny wasn't
making it any easier by stepping up the pace of my punishment. My body
trembled with dripping-wet pleasure as my hips reeled against Jennifer's hold.
Orgasm seemed to be toying with me, coming just within grasp before
frustrating me again and again. I thought it might help to fantasize about
being dangled from the ceiling by a harness. A harness designed specifically
to keep my body in the spread-eagle position. In that position I could be
swung around like a pendulum to have assorted procedures performed, usually
involving some sort of intense clitoral stimulation.
And the idea of being tethered like that elevated the level of excitement
another notch.
Jenny surmised that someone should design some sort of clamp to hold the
pussy lips open and exposed so they are always ready for penetration. At that
point my ultimate goals for education became crystal clear: an engineering
degree!
Meanwhile, the dispenser of all stimulating punishment had found an even
more efficient method of pleasuring me by pulling upwardly, dragging each bump
of the carrot across my clit.
Then it came. Suddenly and out of nowhere. Everything inside me surged
with energy. Higher and higher and higher. It felt like I had passed out,
completely out of control, jerking, writhing, riding the waves of unconscious
emotion. The depth of those passionate feelings was beyond description. It
was like being immersed in a pool of warm, beautiful feelings.
I had connected with some inner part of myself, my female self.
Never had an orgasm that felt that way. One that so overwhelmed me with
deep intense emotion. There was happiness and sadness. Courage and fear.
Peace and rage. All that was inside me that could possibly be felt was felt.
There was no way for Jennifer to share that moment, something that saddened
me so much that almost started crying.
My sensitivity level had been heightened to the point of being
uncomfortable. Everything from Jenny's fingers gently caressing my back to
the pain I sensed in her face. All at full volume. How could I explain any
of this to her? I knew that trying to put it into words would have destroyed
it.
Still, an urging inside me became stronger and stronger to talk. To talk
with Jenny about her pain. But how? I groped around before finding the
words. "Jenny? Please forgive me if I'm wrong....but I feel a lot of pain
when I look at you. Maybe it's just me, I don't know. Is there something
there?"
For the moment the tears could be fought off, but soon she would soon
lose the battle. "Well.....you know there have been some problems with Tom,"
Jenny explained diplomatically.
There wasn't really any need to ask further questions, the truth was
staring me right in the eye. Literally. A bruise above her eye that was
barely detectable gave it all away.
Jenny's face turned away to avoid my hand when I tried to touch it.
Then she began to weep. Calmly at first, as if waiting for the protection of
my outstretched arms, then exploding into a storm. Here was someone who had
been so measured with her emotional responses, so good at keeping things in
check. Someone who could allow just the right amount out so as not to be
disingenuous. Not the emotion that *she* was feeling, but the emotion that
*you* needed: the emotion of empathy. This time it was different. This time
it was honest.
I wondered if this had been the first incident. Or was it the last?
Talking her out of seeing Tom again seemed so easy now. How could anything
be more clear? I soon found out that things weren't quite so simple, at least
in Jenny's mind.
Part of the answer was something I had already learned. Rebuffing Tom
had a price to pay. And pay it I would. Besides that, Jenny had other
concerns about their relationship. Ones that both surprised and intrigued me.
"I can't just think about myself, Sarah."
"When your life is endangered, why not?" She was definitely
uncomfortable with that kind of direct confrontation.
"I'm *sure* Tom wouldn't really hurt me. I *know* he wouldn't. All of
his life, people have always left him when things were difficult. I have to
show him that no matter what he does I still love him. And it always works.
You should see! He's so different now. Really!"
I was dying to see the big change, but more than a bit skeptical. All
of it made me think about how unselfish Jenny was and how I admired that
while at the same time was confused by it. Was it good or bad?
Her loyalty to the high school was even harder to understand. She
couldn't "let them all down" by breaking up with Tom. After all, everyone
said how great they looked together as a couple. And the yearbook pictures?
What about them? The first ones of her and Tom had already been taken.
The anger started rising up inside of me. "Jenny! The DAMN yearbook,
Jen? Who gives a SHIT about the DAMN yearbook?"
Jenny had regained her composure like an expert skater after a slip on
the ice. "I think you're really angry at Tom. Oh, it's perfectly
understandable. Can't blame you *one* bit."
Oh, right! Weren't we all angry at *Tom*?
My staring eyes bored into hers. "Tom *got* what he deserved from me.
That's all he deserves from you too!"
The whole conversation had turned into an argument. An argument that was
going nowhere in a hurry and with Jenny on the verge of breaking down again,
I decided to leave bad enough alone. At least for the time being. Just
seeing her brokenness was enough to make me feel guilty, enough to make me
apologize for yelling at her.
We both sat there not saying a word until the familiar sound of Mom's car
pulling up punctuated the silence. I grabbed Jenny by the hand and we
jettisoned out the back door, just in time to avoid my mother.
The sweet smell of jasmine perfumed the night air as we made our way
toward the beach. I remembered well when I had been there last with Jenny.
I remembered too, how we had spent the last rays of the setting sun together
on that little tryst.
"God, it g-g-gets c-cold here at night," I shivered. "We were wearing
short-sleeves at school!" On top of freezing temperatures the wind had
started to pick up.
Jenny chuckled. "People back in the mid-west won't believe it when you
tell them you need a jacket in the summer! There, look." She gestured toward
the shore. "Some of my friends built a fire down there. That should warm you
up. Let's go."
Oh no, I thought, more of Jenny's friends that I *didn't* want to meet.
How was I going to tell her without hurting her feelings? I did my best.
"Jenny, I'm sorry but.....I'm not really up for meeting anyone tonight, O.K.?
"Yes you are!" She retorted, kicking a wind-blown coke can. "These are
a different kind of people. How can I describe them? Kind of a rag-tag bunch
of people who don't fit in anywhere at school. I'm sure they'd really like
someone, well...as *unconventional* as you!"
That was a pretty nice way to put it. My curiosity was really going now,
wondering who these people were and if they'd accept me, even more, maybe
*like* me. After agreeing to go, Jenny informed me that her association with
them be kept an absolute secret. She sure found the right way to get me
interested!
Their faces glowed in the amber fire light as they watched us approach.
Quiet, intensely curious expressions that were so inviting at the same time.
This was the right place for me, I knew almost immediately. No designer
fashions, no perfect makeup, just the kind of people that I grew up with.
They were a sight for sore eyes.
"Hi!" I beamed with a smile stretching across my face.
"Welcome." A voice said. The voice of John, the one they called
"Junior".
Jenny introduced me. "Hi everyone, this is my friend Sarah."
Suddenly you could here mumbling and hushed whispers. "Isn't she the
one.... Is that *her*?....I think it is." I could feel the smile leaving my
face when I realized that they too were probably going to hate me. Just like
the rest of school did. As I turned away to leave I felt Jenny grab my hand.
"Hey, don't go. It's O.K." She addressed the group again. "Sarah, this
is Janet....Bill...." Each hand raised as if attendance was being taken.
"Junior....Doug....and Susan." An opening was made for Jenny and I in the
tight circle. Nobody wanted to be the first to talk. Perhaps they didn't
know quite what to say.
Doug stared into the crackling fire, poking at it with a stick. "Some
of us think you did the right thing yesterday."
The other heads nodded in agreement. Jenny was uncomfortable with the
topic, it was obvious. I was too.
The silence was as thick as the smoke that filled the air around us. Bill
spoke up. "Someone had to do it." More nodding. Another voice said that it
was long overdue. I was really nervous for Jennifer, who seemed to be
pretending to ignore the conversation. She must have been torn between her
love for Tom, if you could call it, and her friends.
It was my turn to speak. "So.....how *bout* those Niner's!" The whole
group rolled back in laughter, attracting looks from a couple passing by.
Overhead, a jet was slowly drowned out by the sound of the rolling ocean
waves, calling attention to them. Then it was quiet again.
Junior looked around nervously, like he was hiding something. Whatever
it was, it was passed over to Jenny before I could see it. She was bent over
in his direction making what sounded like a hissing noise accompanied by a
strange smell. Sort of like the wood smoke, only more pungent.
Jenny passed it over to me, holding her breath as she spoke.
"Ear...ave... a hit."
"Huh, what?" I asked, not exactly sure whether it was what I thought it
was. Which would be more embarrassing? I wondered. If I was wrong or if I
didn't even know!
Meanwhile, Jenny kept motioning with her head for me to do something
while the background filled with chuckles and giggles.
Janet asked where I was from.
"Nebraska?" Laughed Bill. "Why...doesn't the stuff grow *wild* out
there?! Who is she trying to fool?"
Janet snapped back, reaching in front of me to take it from Jenny.
"You're the fool! You can't smoke that stuff! Rope is about all it's good
for."
Junior had to set the record straight about all the various uses of the
hemp plant, a subject that seemed to bore just about everyone.
Janet sucked on it, exhaled, then presented it to me. "Hi, Sarah! This
is *joint*. Joint, meet Sarah." That got a round of applause and more
laughter leaving me wondering just how noticeable my *damn* *red* face was!
Now that the formal introductions were made, it was time for me to figure
out what the hell I was going to do when the joint came back to me again.
Should I try it? Why not? Why? I could feel the pressure rising each time
the joint was passed. I should try it...I should try it not....I should
try...
All eyes were on me as the joint finished it's first orbit.
"Ummmm. I don't....use drugs?" Ooops, wrong thing to say! That comment
didn't go over too well at all.
"Aaaaak!" Junior pretended he was vomiting. "*Drugs*? Oh, No! This is
natural, one hundred percently as nature herself intended. Yes, and I should
know, I grew it myself in my own....parent's garden!"
Everyone seemed to agree that Junior's was the best, the purest, and of
course, most *organically* grown pot around. So why wouldn't I try it?
"All right! Give me that thing." I growled, ripping it away from Jenny.
"Ooooooh!" A voice called out. Then another and another. Then silence.
Anticipation.
I pulled the joint in closer as the smoke from the tip danced back and
forth, stinging my eye for a moment.
Another whisper. "Is she going to do it?"
"Yes, she is." I answered. I puffed on the joint twice before coughing
it all out. After another try at it, I seemed to have the hang of it. At
least *I* thought I did.
"She's *clintoning*!" Accused Bill.
Junior agreed. "Looks that way to me too." Everyone else nodded.
Jenny gave me the bad news again. "They think your clintoning."
Junior reiterated "Yep, she is. That was a clinton if I ever saw one."
What the hell was a "clinton"? I wondered. Did it have something to do
with the president or something? Apparently it did.
It took a while before I learned how to inhale the smoke without choking
and gagging like a newbie. But by then, strange things were beginning to
happen around the circle. To everyone except me. For one thing, there was
almost continuous laughter erupting from everywhere. And beside that, people
were acting just as funny.
"I told you it could be done." Doug trying to reason with Bill.
Then Bill insisting that he couldn't *handle* it, whatever *it* was.
"The *concept* Bill, you have to grasp the *concept*." Doug was busy
grasping something else: the joint. He sipped the tiny butt deeply, let some
of the smoke go up his nose, then spoke again in a deeper voice. "Come and
see.....William."
I couldn't resist having a look at what Doug's so-called "concept" was.
Janet pulled me aside to explain. "Doug's trying to separate the grains
of sand again," she whispered. "By *color*!"
"Can you do that?" I asked, just before feeling like a complete idiot.
"You can't *do* that Doug," shouted bill while he circled the camp,
shaking his head and his hand-covered ears like a headless chicken. "It's too
much Doug, there's too many Doug. I warned you, I *told* you I couldn't deal
with that Doug!"
Doug insisted that it could be done, if only a little at a time. Just
a few small piles a day, he instructed. And just *look* at the progress he
had made! Maybe *don't* look.
Junior had rolled up another, though no one else seemed to be interested.
It came down to he and I. He couldn't seem to figure out why I wasn't doing
the same sorts of silly things that everyone else was and seemed determined
to have it otherwise.
He motioned with the joint. "Here, take a hit. Let me see if your
getting ......getting it right.....Wait a minute....Can you tell me what I
just said? God, my memory keeps getting shorter all the time."
After a few of the others got him back on track, my smoking technique was
subject to a most thorough evaluation. Everyone included. The conclusion:
I was, indeed, properly inhaling. What a relief! Yes, I had certainly
learned my lesson about "clintoning". That was for politicians *only*!
Susan spoke up after being quiet for the entire time. "Not everyone gets
high the first time, you know. I didn't."
Junior banged his head with his hand as if he was trying to knock some
sense into it. "Oh wow! That's right! How could I forget?"
Everyone else was busy trying to roll this gigantic log that we had been
using as a bench. Doug explained that we would have to use it for the fire,
since wood on the beach was scarce.
"I know," He said, giving the log it's final shove into the flames, "It's
a little cannibalistic to use the bench, but we can still sit on the end
that's *not* burning."
Wow!!!! Talk about a concept!
"Yes, yes!" Proclaimed Janet as if she just had some sort of revelation.
Then she jumped up on the log and straddled it like a gigantic penis ride
with a heated tip. "Of course, that's it! Good idea. Yipp.....eeeeeee!"
And if that wasn't enough, there was more to come. Much more.
Between all the laughing, Susan desperately needed to know the truth
about her eyes. Were they really the tiny slits that they felt like? She'd
probably have to open them first, I explained, before I could know the answer.
That got Bill rolling around on the ground with laughter. Then Doug
started tossing potato chips to him one at a time while he rolled around like
an animal to retrieve them.
"Yikes! It's the munchie-monster!" Joked Susan. "Aaaaaah, don't *feed*
it!"
Did I miss something?
There must have been a vending machine nearby, judging by all the snack
food people were inhaling. Junior had his face literally *buried* into a bag
of corn chips. I'm talking buried here! The whole thing reminded me of a
horse in one of those feeder-bag jobbers. I swear, he actually ate a hole
right through the bag! It was wild. Everyone seemed to be crunching on one
thing or another.
Janet lost control of a donut, allowing it to skid off the end of the log
and right into fire. But could you tell Bill that it was dangerous to use
your *hands* to rescue something from the flames. No way!
It took two of us that still had some sense left to keep him from
suffering the same fate as that donut.
Just then, Junior's face popped out through the corn chip bag "Relax,
Bill, it's only a donut for crying out loud!"
Janet defended herself, "It *rolled* off, Bill! There wasn't a *damn*
thing that ANYONE of us could have done to save it. Let it go Bill, it's
over."
"Tragic" Agreed Doug, shaking his head for effect. "It's gravity
Bill....you're fighting a losing battle."
All the eating seemed to mellow everyone out. Jenny had fallen asleep
on a blanket, something that everyone seemed to realize at the same time.
I could tell what was coming by how perked up everyone was all of a
sudden.
Bill's hand went out for a high five. I obliged. He kept watch over
Jennifer as he whispered just in case. "I wonder if *Bubba* liked the new
front-end alignment you gave him." Jenny slept right through all the laughter
and clapping.
Doug offered a more scientific analysis. "I believe nature has selected
the *bubba* species for extinction! It's the evolution process at work, my
friends." I thought the howling would *never* stop after that one. They were
making me laugh too, although I kept pushing back the guilt feelings every
time I looked at her.
Susan got serious. "Come on, now. We want to hear the *whole* story.
None of us were there, you know. We all got it second or third hand. Come
on tell us. Pleeeeeee....eeeeez."
A chorus of come-ons followed, making it impossible to resist.
The whole group huddled in close to listen.
I told of Tom's attempts to make Jenny go with him and I asked them if
they thought he was jealous of my friendship with her. The consensus was
"yes."
Janet said that Jenny has to hide a lot of her friendships, especially
with people like them. And people like me. Her unwillingness to be seen with
me in school made more sense now.
Author: Linda B
Reply-To: an454887@anon.penet.fi