Reginald
Chapter 9

Copyright© 2016 by Gordon Johnson

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 9 - Reginald was an unwanted only child, deprived of love by his parents, dependent on his innate cleverness to cope with life. He goes through school as a loner, but encouraged in his learning by his teachers. They persuade the school trust fund to help him get to university, and it is there that our story begins.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Polygamy/Polyamory   First   Safe Sex   Small Breasts   School  

The Gurkhas were tasked with attacking the last mountain before Port Stanley. The defending troops got wind of this impending attack and who would be attacking, and swiftly abandoned the mountain.

The Gurkha reputation as supposed bloodthirsty killers was enough to make the Argentinians run for their lives. The Gurkha soldiers were very disappointed that they didn’t get to fight that battle, and the Argentines surrendered shortly afterwards, being completely surrounded in Stanley. They knew that if they harmed the locals, the British forces would not forgive them, and there would be a massacre of Argentinians in retaliation.

The quality of your troops can therefore be an important factor in any decision to fight. Fully trained professional soldiers can usually overcome conscripted men, and elite forces such as the S.A.S. or the U.S. Green Berets, or the Russian GRU Spetznaz, can be expected to outperform any unit except other special forces.”

Frances commented, “So you can never be 100 per cent certain of the outcome?”

“Never, but as far as the risks are concerned, the better-trained troops will do better than conscripts or less-well-trained troops, all other things being equal. Choosing the place of battle helps your odds; having superior firepower helps a great deal, and a better standard of equipment makes a big difference. Iraqi forces had Russian tanks of good quality, but their range and accuracy were less than the allied tanks, which were able to fire on the move and still hit their targets. Almost all of the allied tanks were never hit by Iraqi fire, because the Iraqi tanks were knocked out before their enemy was within range.”

“So if you know your forces are the best, you can attack with impunity?”

“Mostly, that is so, but sometimes maneuverability and general mobility counts more than firepower. In medieval times, the knight with his heavy horse was top dog in the European theatre of war, until the arrival of Genghis Khan’s forces from the east. The Mongols won their battles where there was open countryside, and where they could fire their arrows from horseback, well away from the knights. They did not do so well where they could be bunched together, allowing the European cavalry to get close and utilise their weight and power advantage.

Both sides gradually adapted their tactics to suit their own advantages, and the Mongols seldom attacked fortified positions; they were not too good against static targets. But it was probably the weather that caused the Mongols to retreat. Tree-ring dating shows that the climate around 1242 was very wet, so that the dry plains that the Mongols preferred would have turned to muddy bogs with little fodder for their horses. Historians are still arguing about what exactly caused the Mongols to return to Asia instead of attacking further into Western Europe. Some insist that the Mongol leadership had set a limit to expansion and enforced that limit. Who knows for sure?”

Freda was delighted with this summary. “It looks to me that one can get away with arguing from any point of view, because there are so many historical uncertainties involved. That should make essays much easier to write.”

Reg was not so sure about that assumption. “In general terms, Freda, you are correct, but it doesn’t make the essay easier. You have to show that you know all the factors that are involved, even if you cannot prove certain arguments. You have to show the lecturer that your knowledge of the subject is adequate. A light-weight essay is not going to score well. You can get a far better score through detailing the factors involved yet ending up saying the reasons for the outcome remain obscure.”

“Reg, why must you be a spoilsport?” Freda objected.

“Freda darling, I am just telling it as it is. The decision is up to you, dear. The more you know, the better your essay is likely to be. As the top golfer said, ‘The more I practice, the luckier I get.’”

Prudence declared, “Hey, I heard that one! It was Gary Player that said it.”

Reg was interested in her statement. “Prudence, it is true that he said it, but he was not the first one to say it, just the one most remembered. Similar maxims are found back into the 19th century, I understand. Someone even claimed that Confucius said that the harder a man works, the luckier he gets, but there are so many spurious Confucius claims going about, that I would not be sure of its veracity.”

Prudence looked at him in awe. “Good grief, Reginald Robertson. Do you always have an answer to every question, and more information on anything that is mentioned? You are weird, man!”

Reg was suddenly downcast, as he realised he had been showing off. “Sorry, Prudence. I was not thinking. I should have stayed quiet for a change.”

Frances was quick to reassure him. “Reg, don’t fret. You are unusual in that you are so widely read, and so you can produce at the drop of a hat. It is not a fault; be sure of that. It is simply a symptom of your isolation for so long.

You need to take that into consideration when you react. Prudence sees your abilities as weird because it is unusual; not because it is wrong. Is that not so, Prudence?”

“Oh, my God! I didn’t mean to insult you, Reg. I was just surprised at your ... your erudition. You are so young to be so knowledgeable, that’s all. I really like you, Reg. Please accept my apology.”

She went over to give him a hug, crushing him to her thin frame. His eyes opened wide at this sign of affection, and he hugged her in return, not used to almost complete strangers being so welcoming. Tears came to his eyes as he thought about it.

It was one thing to have three girlfriends who liked his company; he could accept that largesse for what it was, but to be hugged by a girl who had more or less just met him; that got to his heart. He found himself crying, for the first time in years.

Prudence drew back as she realised what was happening, shocked at what she might have caused.

“Reg? What have I done?” She turned to Frances for help.

Frances saw that Reg had been affected by Prudence treating him as a close friend. She knew she had to take over.

She moved to Reg and opened her arms. “Reg, love? Come to me.”

He moved into the encompassing arms of his lover, and shuddered as he let his tears flow while he held onto her. She patted his back. “It is all right to cry, Reg. Let it all out.”

The bewildered Prudence did not know what to do. Freda and Erika came to her. Freda put an arm round Prudence. “It is not you, Prudence. Reg has been alone for years, so is not good with people, particularly people showing they care about him.”

Prudence was still unsure of herself. “I was shocked at his reaction, Freda. I have never met a boy who was so upset at getting a hug.”

Erika told her, “Reg did not get affection at home, Prudence, and so he was not prepared for friendly interaction with other people. You could say he had a deprived childhood: deprived of love. His father is dead and his mother regards him as an impediment to her. He did not get hugs and kisses, not at all for many years, so getting them now has a great impact on him.”

Prudence was puzzled, “But he acts so grown-up when he tells us about things; I was so impressed by that.”

Erika explained, “Such erudition was his overcompensation for his social awkwardness. He studied knowledge instead of studying how to interact with people. His isolation allowed him to study subjects intensely. His brain soaked up knowledge and retained it, while he was isolated from people around him.”

“But how did he get to university, if he was like that?”

Erika snorted. “Educationists concentrate on education, Prudence. They do not see it as their responsibility to foster a better social life. Their target is to produce people with good degrees, and the more you can study, the better they see it. Being a loner enables you to concentrate on your studies. His schoolteachers encouraged him to go to university, and saw to it that funding was forthcoming for it, including help from the university.

Reg is essentially broke, so does not have money to engage socially with his classmates; not even to go to the pub for a drink. Until we got him to tutor us, he was almost a ghost among the student body.”

“My goodness. The poor boy. All these troubles, and he still manages to excel at his studies?”

Erika was quick to correct her. “Much of his academic success is because of his troubles. He sees studying as a means of diverting his attention away from his problems, Prudence.”

“Ugh!” Prudence said suddenly.

Erika was concerned at this reaction. “It is not THAT bad, Prudence. Reg is improving, under our guidance.”

“Sorry, no. It was not that. My eyes have suddenly gone funny.”

“In what way, funny?”

“For a while, I was seeing a dot on front of my eyes, and thought nothing of it, but the dot has expanded into a circle coming towards me, and the edges are sort of zigzags: most peculiar.”

“Very odd. Have you been having any other symptoms at all?”

“Not really. I have been feeling a bit nauseous, but I put that down to something I have eaten. Why? Do you think they are connected?”

“Might be. I wonder if any of the others know what it might be?”

She called for attention. “Can you all listen for a moment? Prudence has been feeling nauseous, and now she is seeing circles coming towards her. Anyone got ideas?”

The others looked puzzled, except for Frances. She asked, “Do the circles have a zigzag line around them?”

Erika exclaimed, “Yes! She mentioned zigzags.”

Frances asked further, “Any other geometrical shapes, or a headache?”

Prudence admitted, “I feel a bit headachy at the moment, but no other shapes, just the circles.”

Frances announced, “Migraine! I get them occasionally. Have you had this happen before, Prudence?”

“No. It is new to me.”

“Well, prepare to have a much worse headache over the next few hours, probably a pounding headache. You will probably have other symptoms, with your senses being more sensitive: light will seem much brighter, sounds will seem louder, and your senses of touch and taste will also be affected in the same way. That is why people with a bad migraine want to lie in a darkened room, because of light sensitivity. Your usual cup of tea or coffee will taste too strong.”

Prudence declared, “I don’t like the sound of this, Frances.”

“Not everyone gets all the symptoms, Prudence. It is pot luck. So you will have no medication?”

“Nothing.”

“I can give you one of my pills, to help. I know one isn’t supposed to give someone else your own medication, but the basic level should be fine. Mine is called Migril, and you swallow a tablet with water as soon as possible. It helps to prevent the symptoms getting much worse. You are supposed to follow that by half a tablet every half hour or hour, until the symptoms stabilise, but let’s just stick with one, and see how you cope with it.”

Frances headed off to her medicine cabinet, to find the tablets. Prudence looked white in the face, and not at all happy. “Do you have anything to say about migraine, Reg?” she asked.

“No, I know nothing about it, Prudence, except that vomiting is supposed to be one of the effects. If your stomach feels really unhappy, be prepared to be sick soon after.”

Frances was soon back, with the tablet and a glass of water. “Here, wash this down, and we can see about a room for you. You are not going home tonight. Where is home?”

“Home? I live in the ladies’ dorm. Just ring them and say I won’t be back tonight.”

“What about your parents? Won’t they want to know about you?”

“No, I don’t want to bother them. They are busy people, and If I say I am not well, one of them will be here like a shot, ready to take me back home. I don’t want that. How long will this migraine last, so you know?”

“It can vary, but usually I am fine after 24 hours. If it is your first, it is impossible to predict. Some migraines last several days before you are well again. If I get a bad one, I try to sleep through the worst of it. The trick is to empty your stomach and not eat – you won’t feel like eating anyway, and that will help with getting to sleep in a dark room.”

 
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