Chapter 8

On the way home, I swung by the only gas station in our little township. Apart from gas, they sold candy, newspapers and magazines, rented out videos and were the only place where you could play the Lotto and gamble money on sports. The place was almost empty except for the sad old lonely chain-smoking alcoholics who always sat by the slot-machines. I nodded my head at the storekeeper and walked over to the disk where you could fill in your lottery tickets and bet money on horse racing. I pulled a blank lottery ticket from the stack, took a pen and closed my eyes for a second as I rummaged around in my brain for the right memory cue. Then I wrote the number series; 6-13-22-26-31-34-35. I purposely wrote the number 35 at the end. 36 would give me all 7/7 numbers, which would net me over two million Swedish Krona ($250K), but I didn’t want that right now - I needed a good seed for the stock market, but nothing that would draw too much attention to me or affect my family in a major way. 6/7 would give me a little less than 200.000 SEK ($25K) which was more than enough to get me started on the stock market.

I handed in the Lotto ticket at the counter, paying the exact amount, and wasn’t surprised when the disinterested shopkeeper didn’t ask for ID. Strictly speaking, I wasn’t allowed to, but this was 1993 - nobody cared. Alcohol was a different matter, but tobacco and gambling were still below the radar at this time. When I got the ticket back after the storekeeper had done whatever it is that they do with them behind the counter, I put it in my breast pocket and carefully buttoned it. The draw was tomorrow at noon. I would have to come up with some reason to tell my parents why I was suddenly playing the Lotto - something I had never done before.

As I rode my bike home, I considered that problem carefully. I needed an adult to collect the winnings for me, which meant my parents - there was no way around it. How would they react if I simply gave the Lotto-ticket to them as a gift? Nah, why would I have played the Lotto, when I could have bought a Triss-ticket instead? Triss was the name of the most popular scratch-card lottery, and the one that people bought as presents to friends and family when they couldn’t think of anything better to buy them. I would have to think of something better.

Could I explain it as a spur-of-the-moment decision? Why would I buy a Lotto ticket? I mulled it over for a long time that evening, but hadn’t come up with a reason when my head hit the pillow.

When I woke at 02.30 AM, I had the answer.

I needed to explain buying the ticket as a thing I did to cover up for something else. Minors weren’t allowed to gamble, so I bought the ticket just to make the storekeeper less curious to see my ID for something completely different: Buying condoms!

It was a brilliant plan. I had to pretend that I believed buying condoms was something only people over the age of consent were allowed to do! So because I was afraid the storekeeper would embarrass me by asking questions about the condoms I needed to buy, I bought the lottery ticket just to throw him off the scent. Yes, that would work. My parents would be intensely curious about why I needed condoms, and they would be proud to see me take responsibility for my actions, but they would believe my story. I would have to pull it all off without outing Anna and Gunilla though. But that was doable.

Having thought of this brilliant but convoluted reason for buying a lottery ticket, I tried going back to sleep, but it was to no avail. I simply didn’t need more than a couple of hours of sleep since Dr O’s genetic manipulation of my endocrine system. What I did need, however, was some protein and exercise. Sighing, I pulled on my jogging clothes, quietly made a quick omelet and ate it in the garage. I still hadn’t got weights enough to challenge my major muscle group, but I did 3x10 reps of biceps curls with 90kg on the barbell and some triceps extensions, and then I went for a long jog. When I got back, I masturbated furiously for about an hour to memories of the two evenings spent with Anna and Gunilla and to fantasies about what we could get up to on Sunday. When my sister got up at 04.30, I joined her for ‘second breakfast’ (did I mention my protein cravings?).

“You’re up early today too? What’s gotten into you lately, brother dearest?” she asked over her bowl of cereal.
“I just don’t seem to need as much sleep as I did before. I’m wide awake and not the least bit tired,” I said as I peeled a banana.
“I thought you’d need the rest, seeing as you’ve been getting a lot of exercise,” she said, and raised an amused eyebrow.
“Oh? What do you mean?”
“I heard from friends of Louise that she had made some observations yesterday, which happened to align with what I observed when you got home. Circumstantial evidence and hearsay, you might argue, but interesting nonetheless, don’t you think?” She said, looking even more amused.
“Your powers of deduction are considerable, Sherlock. But your data is erroneous - absolutely nothing happened, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, really?”
“That’s my story, and I will stick with it, sister dearest,” I said and took a big bite of my banana.
“Well well ... At least my curiosity has been partially satisfied. But surely, you didn’t ... You know, both of them?”
“My lips are sealed,” I persisted.
“Well, Louise thinks differently, and she’s spreading the rumor, just so you know.”
“Thanks for letting me know, Becky. Please feel free to discuss those rumors, as long as you let it be known that I categorically deny anything happened.” I grinned and picked up another banana.
“Why would you want me to say tha...” she stopped herself mid-sentence and her eyes narrowed as she thought through the implications.
“Oh ... Oh, that’s really clever.” she looked at me with something close to awe.
“Discretion is my middle name, sis. Feel free to mention that to any friend of yours. Vicky in particular.”
“You sly little devil,” she said. “I might get around to mentioning it, if the topic comes up.”

She asked if I wanted to jog with her to work, but I declined, citing homework. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I had already taken a long run. When she had left, I went into my room and spent another hour masturbating to memories of Gunilla’s and Anna’s naked bodies and the picture of Anna’s mouth wrapped around my cock as she swallowed every last drop of my load, and for that matter, the picture of Gunilla’s face with her lips around my glans as she taste-tested my cum. Nothing, absolutely nothing, beats the visuals of a fourteen-year-old girl sucking your cock. I must have managed three or four cums, and yet my cock was showing no signs of getting tired - Dr O’s enhancements or just second puberty? Either way, it seemed there was no end to my sexual energy.

Afterwards, I took a shower, packed my bag and went to school.

The first lesson of the day was Phys-Ed. Before class started, I sought out Mr Ollie and asked if I could have a word with him in private. I had seen the lesson plan for the remaining lessons of the semester, and I was worried.

“What is it today then, young man? Need another pair of trousers?” Ollie asked.
“Nah, I’m good - I’m just a bit worried about football practice and was wondering if I could maybe run laps or use the gym instead?” I said.
“Oh? And why are you worried about football?”
“As you might be aware, there are four of my so-called ‘classmates’ that have beef with me, and I’m worried team sports are a perfect excuse for them to get in a blow or two - or worse.”
“I see.” He paused and thought for a minute. “Normally, I would have just put you all on the same team to minimize the risk of something like that, but ... I read the letter.”
“Oh. I didn’t think he would show it to any teachers.” I said.
“Well, he did - and everyone who teaches your class is aware of the matter. There is going to be some kind of disciplinary action taken. No reason I shouldn’t act preemptively though ... Go join your friends now, I have a fix.”

When the class started, Ollie called on Jacob, Henrik, Marcus and Daniel to follow him outside for a minute. The murmurations of the rumor mill started churning as soon as they were outside the door. Were they in trouble over something? Was this connected to the school counsellor’s meetings with the girls yesterday? Someone had picked up a rumor that the four of them were in trouble over selling some other kids alcohol or maybe something worse.

It turned out, Ollie had sent them away with a map and an order to take down the control points of an orienteering course and bring them back to school. When he told our class, there were hoots and laughter, and many of the girls seemed very satisfied. Gunilla looked at me questioningly, and I winked at her to confirm her suspicion.

Did I mention before how my class had 13 boys and 18 girls? Now the numbers were 9 to 18, which made for easy mathematics. Three teams, each consisting of three boys and six girls. While two teams played, the other did push-ups, burpees and a host of other exercises. It was a good lesson and a good work-out, and I loved every minute I got to spend looking at my pretty female classmates jogging about in their tight tops.

When we hit the showers afterwards, it was good not to have to worry about the infamous four - they still hadn’t returned from the woods.

They still hadn’t returned when it was time for physics class. When they finally arrived, thirty minutes late, they had a note from Ollie explaining why, which our physics teacher Mr Persson read with some amusement.
“Well well, no harm no foul,” he said, “I have to inform you that Marcus and Daniel are called to a meeting at 11 sharp in the vice principal’s office, so you will miss the last part of the lesson anyway. As for Jacob and Henrik, you also have a meeting, but it’s at 1 o’clock.” When they looked pale and queasy, Mr Persson didn’t try to smooth it over. “Please have a seat and open your textbooks to page 84,” he said.

Again, there was a susurration as the class realized something big was afoot. The gang of four were in trouble. I looked at Linda, who wore an expression of grim satisfaction. When she noticed me looking, she gave me a hint of a smile and turned to Agnes to whisper something. They definitely knew I had something to do with this development.

Marcus and Daniel went to their meeting, and when it was time for lunch, they still hadn’t returned. Jacob and Henrik sat by themselves in the canteen, and looked decidedly pale and worried. I, on the other hand, did not sit alone. Andy and I were invited to Anna’s and Gunilla’s table, where we got to sit surrounded by the pretty girls of the junior handball team. It was quite hard to focus on eating around so many fourteen- and fifteen year old girls, when you had the erectile response of a male teenager on Viagra supplementation. I noticed Andy was having the same issue as he talked to Cecilia - a dark-haired girl in 8th grade who sat in front of him in a low-cut white top which revealed quite a lot each time she bent forward just a little. She seemed to be bending over the table a lot, come to think of it. Devious!
“Could you pass me the salt?” I asked her.
“Why sure, Charlie,” she said and stretched over the table again.
Andy’s eyes followed her movement, but he didn’t notice that she definitely noticed where he was looking.
“Thank you. Cecilia, is it? Did you know Andy and I are coming to the match on Saturday? Will you be playing?” I asked.
“No, I hadn’t heard. Of course I’m playing - I’m center forward and call the shots.”
“I can believe that.” I quipped. She gave me a sharp look, but I went on; “Maybe you could prepare Andy by telling him about the rules of handball? One’s appreciation of the game really goes up once you ... pick up on ... the finer details.” I suggested. She smiled winsomely at me, and then turned to Andy:
“I’d love to tell you about the rules, Andy. My class begins now, so I need to go - but perhaps we could meet in hallway three next break? She suggested as if the matter was settled. Andy looked at me and then at her in confusion, and then stammered his consent.

Anna poked me in the rib and leaned in close.
“That was smooth,” she said quietly.
“Thank you,” I acknowledged.
“Do you know what else is completely smooth?” she paused before she went on: “I borrowed my dad’s razor this morning. Oh, I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to make you spill your milk.” She giggled at my reaction. My hand was suddenly trembling, and I had to set my glass down on the tray.

If I had had problems focusing on the conversation before, that attention deficit paled in comparison to the daze I found myself in for the rest of that lunch break. All I could think about was Anna’s little fourteen-year-old pussy shaved completely smooth and how I would get so see it up close soon.

I somehow managed to get to the next class without noticing the distance I had traversed to get there. Andy was saying something about Cecilia and her fantastic hooters, and I was apparently holding up my side of the conversation well enough for him not to notice my distraction. When the lesson started, our social studies teacher Ms Kris said something about the test that was planned for next day, and then reminded Jacob and Henrik that they had a meeting at the vice principal’s office at 1 PM sharp. I turned to look at them, and by now they were looking really scared. Marcus and Daniel still hadn’t come back from their meeting, which they had gone to almost one and a half hour ago. Anyone could understand that did not bode well. I wondered what they were thinking - did they realize what this was about? Were they feeling the least bit guilty for how they had treated the other students? Had they done something so dreadful to Linda that they were looking at legal ramifications? I was intuitively pretty sure that they had. They had likely been the ones behind Linda’s prolonged absence from school last time ‘round. Perhaps I should talk to her about it? Or should I leave that to the school counsellor?

My eyes sought her out, in the row of benches right beside mine across the aisle. Again, I marvelled at the fact that I hadn’t thought her very pretty last time I was fourteen. Oh, there I was again, thinking I was fourteen. But how had I missed how cute she was? Elfin face with an adorable upturned nose that made her look twelve years old, and that perfect petite body to match. Again, she noticed me looking at her, and this time there was no doubt she was pleased. She gave me an amused smile and squirmed slightly in her seat. A sharp elbow from Andy brought my focus back to class.

“I said, why haven’t you taken out your book, Mr Andersson - did you forget it?” Ms Kris said, sounding more amused than annoyed.
“I’m sorry Ms Kris, I was daydreaming about something.” I admitted.
“Yes, I could tell. Now take out your textbook and work on the questions, young man.”
‘Young man’, I thought to myself. Ms Kris was maybe all of thirty years old herself.
“Yes Mr Kris,” I said, “but ... I actually finished all the questions for these chapters already. Is it okay if I start reading the next chapter?” I asked, keeping my voice low so that only those closest to me would hear.

Ms Kris looked baffled for a second before she recovered.
“Finished? Oh, well, sure ... Go ahead and read the next chapter. Or do you want to read some extra material about feudalism?”
“Some extra reading material would be great - thank you Ms Kris.” I said.

“Some extra reading material would be great...” Andy echoed when she had gone away, “like you’re interested in feudalism?”
“Um ... I just need something to occupy my mind. I really am done with the questions.” I told him.
“Did you ... Um...” he hesitated, “did you set me up with Cecilia?”
“Oh, good - it dawned on you at last.” I chuckled.
“How did you know I liked her?”
“Andy, you like any girl who has a pretty face and a pair of C-cup tits or better. So it wasn’t that I knew you liked her, it was that I noticed she was into you” I explained.
“Really? She’s into me?” His smile was wider than the Cheshire cat’s.
“I can’t understand what she sees in you, but yes, she appears interested. Why else do you think she suggested that you meet her next break? To explain the rules of handball?”
“Well ... Um ... Now that you say it ... But what should I do?”
“Really, Andy. Tell her you like her smile or something. Tell her she’s pretty, and that you’d like to get to know her better.” I coached. “What you do not tell her is that you like her tits. She already knows that you do.”
“She does?” His clueless expression made me fold over with silent laughter.
“Yes, Andy - you weren’t exactly subtle when you checked her out.” I said when I could control my breathing again.
“Hmhpf! Subtle as when you ogle Linda, you mean?”
“Andy! That’s actually perceptive of you! I’m impressed.” He hit my arm and I pretended it hurt - the age-old bonding ritual of adolescent boys.

I read the supplementary reading materials Ms Kris gave me, and helped Andy with some of the questions for the textbook, all the while feeling the tension and excitement building in me at the prospect of seeing Jacob and Henrik go to the vice principal’s office. Their friends still weren’t back from their “meeting”, which must be weighing heavily on their minds - particularly in light of the many rumors about the old man’s temper.

When it was 12.55 and Ms Kris told them to go to their meeting, they looked sick with worry, but were trying to hide how scared they were. Our whole class was silent as they left, but as the door closed behind them, everyone started talking. New theories as to the precise trouble they were in were presented, and Ms Kris had to raise her voice in order for us to settle.

“As you all know, “ she began, and then lowered her voice to rein us in further, “as you all know, tomorrow’s test is about feudalism. The next chapter in the textbook is about the French revolution and the Enlightenment, but we are going to make a thematic historical detour from that progression and go back to a Swedish law from the middle of the thirteenth century; “kvinnofridslagen” (literal translation: woman-peace-law) - one of the first laws of its kind. It was written into law by the uncrowned unofficial king of Sweden at the time - the man who founded Stockholm in 1252 AD. Does anyone know the name of this man? Yes, Karl?”
“Birger Jarl. Birger Magnusson.” I said.
“Very good - Jarl was his title. Now, he created several peace-laws, but one in particular that said women could not be abducted and forced to marry against their will. This law was later expanded upon and added to by various rulers in Swedish history, and we will trace this development through history all the way until today; how have women been treated in Swedish history? I hope this thematic excursion will bring to light many topics that young people ought to discuss more - and the connection to certain recent developments will become clear to you shortly, if they aren’t already.” She looked at the empty seats in the classroom as she said it - perhaps as a signal, perhaps unaware that she did.
“But that’s next week. Tomorrow, we have a test. Now return to the questions.”