I’m already at school and for once I haven’t thought about the reasons that brought my parents to send me to study to the other side of town for all those years on the way. Half an hour on a bus, two connections, while there’s everything needed just next door. My folks, they’ve always been nuts.
Like every morning, I cross the stadium and slip to the back of the bleachers without being noticed. I want to see in what state of mind Josh is after the conversation we had yesterday. I take out my reflex and put on the lens. Hidden behind the protection barriers I know that nobody can see me.
I don’t linger on the junkies nor the nerds who are boning up on their lessons. I directly focus on the shadowy area where Josh and his friends are used to gather. He’s there, talking to Steve who’s wearing jeans that are so torn that one could almost see his ass. For once he’s not hidden in some corner smooching.
And I freak out when I think that it’s maybe his curiosity that got the upper hand on the horny pervert he is. Come to think of it, what is there so terrible that Josh could tell him about me? And how could he talk about our conversation without bringing up the deflowering he proposed to me? No, he’s a guy, he’ll say nothing. However convincing I might try to be, I’m still nervous as hell.
I turn the lens to Josh, he’s wearing black jeans perfectly fitted around his cute little ass and a dark shirt with a picture on the back, a picture I have trouble to make out from where I am. His hands are around Marcy’s waist. She’s as always gorgeous with a little flimsy dress made of blue satin that underlines almost too well her curves. They’re partly turning their backs to me, but their conversation seems to be quite calm. I take a few shots before resuming my naked eye observation.
They look like they’re having a lot of fun and I start to panic again. What if they were talking about me, if he managed to turn the events to his advantage? I know guys and the ways they have to always big themselves up. But an idea reassures me, he’d never do this, he’d fear my retaliation too much. I don’t have the reputation of being soft and it’s not two hours spent together that could change that.
After reviewing the surroundings to try and think about something else, I put my camera back in and go dive into the crowd piling up at the front door. I’ve checked all hiding places and nooks, but I don’t know what I saw. I don’t even know what the junkies were smoking or if somebody got beat up on the parking lot. The tough guys always choose this spot to wait for those they set their sight on.
As I enter the old building a voice calls out to me and I freeze.
Who dared?
I find Prude, joining me with a big smile on and her eternal pleaded skirt and her striped jacket.
“Here you are! I’ve looked everywhere for you.” She gets carried away, way too happy.
Oh my God, I have forgotten about this one!
I really need to find a solution to get rid of her. In the meantime, I ignore her. Luckily we don’t have the same classes and she has to leave me in front of the science classroom.
When the morning’s over, I still can’t believe it, I spent a peaceful, cheerful four-eyes free morning. Of course, she hasn’t forgotten about me and I find her in front of the dining hall, on her tiptoes to make sure she doesn’t miss me.
I feel sick when I discover that this klutz is standing just next to Josh and Marcy, who are fondling as if they hadn’t seen each other for months. He’s still boiling. In the end, my insanities don’t seem to have brought up any complexes in him.
A hand on her waist presses her against his chest, as the other is absent-mindedly pulling up her flimsy dress. For a moment, I imagine myself in her shoes. The burning touch of his fingers slipping up my legs and my back, the ardor of his tongue slipping into my mouth…get a hold of yourself Sandre! Who would wish to be her? She looks ridiculous, trying to manage the situation. Pushing him away with one hand and pulling down the pale fabric with the other.
Prude’s high pitched scream definitely chases away this prohibited vision. Fuck, coming from her mouth, my name sounds like an insult.
I see Josh pull away swiftly from his ladylove as if his mom in law had just walked in on him. The old Shepard is even worse than the pastor. She could recruit a whole convent on her own.
Although it shouldn’t have happened, our eyes meet briefly. I know he already regrets this quick look. His light eyes have shuddered like the day before. And now it’s my turn to shake, all in me reminds him of his weaknesses. I’d like to catch some more of those blue irises, so they could tell me more. My heart has lost all control, but I refuse to listen to it. Suddenly, my initiatives from last night seem ridiculous. He’ll never be mine, whichever way. How could I have imagined such a thing? I’m stupid. Really stupid.
What an idiot I am!
The uptight brat takes me out of my deviant thoughts as our trays slide in front of the not very mouth watering food stands.
“He likes you.” She whispers, discreetly leaning to me.
For a moment I thought I was dreaming, but she really did speak. I observe her to check if something on her face is betraying the bullshit that emanates from her.
Serously; who does she think she is?
“You’re mistaking intimidation for attraction.” I answer petulantly to hide the shock provoked by her surreal declaration.
She turns crimson red and concentrates as if she was hesitating between custard and a banana, that’s when I get it, she said that to make me happy.
What an idiot!
It means that it shows that this asshole has an effect on me. No, no way. I’m dying of embarrassment. If a klutz like her can see it...No, no, no, no way, I can’t even imagine that. What if he understood it too?
“I…I’m sorry…but you… you are really beautiful. I’m sure he could like you if you tried.” She mumbles to patch it up as we sit as far away as possible from Josh and his gang already laughing at what they couldn’t possibly have heard.
“Do I look like somebody who wants to be liked?” I ask outraged, trying to ignore the horrors invading my thoughts.
She’s really perturbed me and I discover, astounded, what I just took for my lunch. A hamburger, lasagnas and custard, pretty balanced.
I can’t believe how she pissed me off. I feel like throwing my tray at her face, but I hold myself back. No scandals, no detention, no visits to the principal, those are the only rules I can’t breach.
Is she dumb or what?
Of course, I know about my seduction abilities; I’ve even already tested them. I was popular at my previous high school, I had a lot to choose from, but I don’t want to be this kind of person anymore. I don’t want to be shallow and carefree anymore, have friends that are only interested in your fame and leave you as soon as trouble comes around.
She’s wiggling on her chair like a kid who needs to pee. I can see very well that she wants to say something and doesn’t dare to, but I won’t encourage her, she should get by on her own. And at last, words come out of her mouth in irregular jolts:
“I…I talked to my friends from algebra classes…they…they told me what people say about you… you know jail and contract killer stories…I…I find believing in those stories really stupid…me, at my last school, people were saying that I come from a Mormon family.”
I eye her, stupefied. From all of her speech I only retained one thing: she has friends in algebra classes? She has friends?
“You’ve made friends and you still come to annoy me?” I protest, outraged.
“I won’t leave you alone, I’m not like that.”
She suddenly regained some strength, looking almost offended.
She’s not like that? She’s not like that!
What an idiot! Seriously, what an idiot!
She could have even convinced me if her round glasses and her little girl’s ponytails didn’t wreck the picture. She’ll not play it Good Samaritan now, will she? In one go, she makes me want to puke. She stinks of naivety, I can’t believe it. How can she have l
ived, up until now, without anyone knocking some sense into her? No, I know, she’s a lost cause. I grab my barely touched tray and stand up furiously. Decision taken, the uptight brat does no longer exist to me; anyhow, it’s pointless to get worked up with such a retard.
When I finally get home I’m relieved. A whole weekend without having to put up with the biggest klutz there is.
Even thought she doesn’t exist anymore, the very shrill hubbub that follows her is still unbearable. She hasn’t left me the whole afternoon. For a moment, I thought she was going to walk me home. I get a headache just thinking about her. The silence of the house that usually bothers me could almost be appreciated.
After swallowing two Tylenols, I start by doing my homework. It could have waited, I know what I’ve planned, but I can’t bring myself to stop postponing it. I fear I might lack courage and back out. And for just a moment, I wish I could just not think about it, but lessons have never been the best to clear one’s mind.
5 — Sandre
After getting ahead in my work, I’m beat. I suddenly get the urge to satiate my curiosity. I hurry to my room. There isn’t a lot of furniture. My mother has always appreciated minimalist decoration. It looks classy and it is cheap. There is only a big bed in the middle of the room, but I have a private bathroom and my own walk in closet. Next to the bed, a huge mirror adorns the big white wall.
I take off my socks, my leggings and my panties, sit on the edge of the mattress and put my feet on the mirror, legs spread. I have a nice view over the thing. I remember my sketches from the previous day and suddenly feel like I’m on known territory. I recognize the labia majora, and the minora…I spread all of it and start looking for the famous clitoris. Here it is, at the top of the labia minora, as I spread the flesh, a small bump appears. With a hesitating finger, I explore the magical button, letting my forefinger run over it.
It is true. This thing really is sensitive!
A shiver goes through me and to my stomach.
I can’t do this while looking at myself in the mirror; it’s too…freaky. I stand up in a jump and go to the end of the corridor. My parents have a huge bathtub, whereas I only have a shower. I ignore the mess in the room and enter the imposing bathroom entirely tiled with black earthenware. Another one of my mother’s weird ideas.
I draw a bath and start taking off my make-up. I prefer myself au naturel, but I wouldn’t impress enough without any makeup on. I smile at my reflection, satisfied to be facing the real me and slip into the steaming water.
Wow, this really feels good! Why don’t I do this more often? I try to relax and to stop thinking about what I’m about to do.
Why does it bother me?
I’m alone and the house is locked. And everybody does this for what I know. Well almost everybody!
I’m not convinced that the pastor, Marcy or worse, her mother, give themselves over to this kind of pleasure. I tilt my head back and try to chase away the horrible images of the old Shepard masturbating. I gaze at the ceiling on which the light is drawing weird patterns. Slowly, I put my fingers back on my magical button.
I massage it, stimulate it, caress it and my whole body is set on fire. I suddenly feel too hot, my heart starts racing as if I had just run a marathon and my hips get an irresistible urge to sway. A wave of pleasure goes up my spine and I abruptly stop the massage. I don’t want it to be this quick; I still have lots of places to explore before exploding.
I take a deep breath, close my eyes and let my fingers slide down my labia minora and touch another bump that also likes to be tickled. If I remember well, this is where pee comes from. Yeah, well! I continue my ascension taking deep breaths; I want to discover where the famous instrument goes. My forefinger finally finds a narrow cavity. Oh my God, if his thing has to get in there, I’ll need to make some room!
Slowly, I slip my finger in. It’s soft, wet and warm and it really isn’t an unpleasant feeling. With my other hand, I pay a visit to the magical button. Hey, take it slow; I want the pleasure to last.
Oh how good this feels!
I speed up, and suddenly, I need more. I send my middle finger to join my forefinger and the pleasure makes me shiver. If somebody had told me that is what it does to you, I would have tried it earlier. I would have tried it earlier if my mother hadn’t traumatized me even before it started to itch.
I speed up some more without caring about the water splashing all over the tiling. A wave of well being takes over my whole body and a groan that surprises me gets out of my mouth. My fingers find themselves stuck inside my convulsing flesh.
Holy shit, it feels so good!!
I stay motionless for some time; delighted with the feeling of being whole that comes afterwards. I think I’ve never in my entire life been this relaxed. Which just shows that gals too need to drain.
All this experimentation made me hungry, but my fridge is still empty. I really need to go grocery shopping. For this evening I have no choice, I settle for a slice of ham and a creased apple. After a few searches on the internet to fill my gaps, some TV and a pretty pleasant massage I fall asleep right away and when I wake up the sun is already high in the sky.
I take a shower, get dressed hastily with a pair of jeans and an old white blouse a little too fitted because I must have had smaller breasts when I used to wear it. I could have settled for my usual outfits, but I don’t want to give the gyney any reason to contact my mother.
At the bus stop, I wait with the old Rosy who lives across the street from me. She must be going to the market like every Saturday. Usually, she stares at me as if I was about to steel her bag, but today she smiles at me as if she wanted me to carry it for her. Can’t people get that there is more to people than meets the eye? I’m sure the old cow hasn’t even recognized me.
When the bus arrives, I stick my tongue out at her as I pass her to get on first. That should cure her of smiling at me!
Fifteen minutes later, I’m in old Redfield’s waiting room. I’m early, but if I had known what awaited me here I’d have come at the last minute. The room is packed with women about to give birth. I’m hallucinating, they’re going to traumatize me. It’s in case a stupid idea crosses my mind.
Did the old Redfield do this on purpose?
I’ve never seen anything this huge. It must really hurt. And how are they going to get this out now? Most of them are stroking their stomachs as if trying to rub away heartburn. I have trouble swallowing as I think about it. What’s more, they all look at me tenderly as if they had a spurt of maternal instinct. I think I’m going to be sick. I’m sure there is virgin ready to take the plunge written all over my face and I’m suddenly dying of embarrassment.
I can’t hold back a sigh of relief when I hear my name at the end of the corridor.
“Miss River, it’s our turn.”
I walk to a tiny wee frail woman. She’s wearing a white coat and her light red hair is tied in a strict bun. I wonder if her crotch has the same weird carrot color. I hold back a laugh as I realize how well her last name suits her.
Well Ok, that wasn’t a very good one. It’s the nerves. I can’t take it anymore; I’m repressing an irresistible urge to run away. Those horrible women with their ready to explode stomachs have really perturbed me. And, I’m freaking out when I realize that I’ll have to unpack my lady parts in front of her. I haven’t even thought of trimming the bush. What an idiot!
She reaches out to me with her hand striped with appearing veins and I shake it vigorously.
“Sandre, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Did you know I was there for your birth?” She announces as if it was an exploit.
This bitch wants to disturb me even before getting to my private parts. I prefer not to know the details of my ejection, even more so after having spent endless minutes with soon to be mothers of slimy, striped, crying creatures. When I think about what’s hiding in their guts.
No, don’t think about it!
“Really? Then why didn’t you convince m
y mother to find a more suitable name for a child? “
My tone is unctuous and I have the biggest smile on to try and soften the horror that dared to come out of my mouth, but I couldn’t help it, I had to say it. She turns away, blushes and I wonder if she knows the story. After all, she was there. She almost chokes on her saliva as she turns crimson red.
“And how is Melinda? I haven’t seen her for a long time, I hope she did not forget about her control visit.” She says, trying to hide her confusion.
Of course, come on, change the subject! I’m sure she knows the story.
Turn a blind eye you fucking, stuck up hypocrite!
“You know my mother, always overwhelmed.” I add simply, praying she doesn’t ask for more information.
And if she insists I could bring back the subject of my birth, just to unsettle her some more.
What a klutz!
She leads me to an office way too big for this little woman. A huge bay window behind her looks out onto a garden and an adjoining room holds all the torture instruments. Everything is white from floor to ceiling and I wonder if it’s a taste she shares with my mother for whichever reason.
She indicates the room that makes me shudder and adds:
“Take off your clothes. All but your panties.” She clarifies. “I suppose you haven’t had sexual relations yet?”
Here it is. I knew it, it’s written all over my face. I can’t face her anymore after such a question, but I’m relieved to be keeping my underwear.
“Um…no.” I mumble, terribly embarrassed.
She comes to the room as I’m taking off my bra and, with a bossy look, shows me the scale. I comply without breathing a word.
“A small 110. Don’t get any lower.” She commands me as if my life depended on it.
What the fuck, is she screwing with me? I bet that klutz doesn’t even weight this much. She thinks she can play moralizer with me because she’s studied? This woman gets under my skin, but I hold back any comments. She shows me the examination table and I know I have to get settled.
Sinder 1: Experimentation Page 4