Chapter 60: Thursday, Oct. 11

For the second morning in a row, I awoke to a nude Marie straddling my middle and massaging my left shoulder. I could get used to this kind of treatment. I just had to convince Mom to let me stay at the apartment full-time.

Which was about as likely as Dick Stirling and Luther Taylor being perfectly fine with me boinking their teenage daughters.

I groaned appreciatively as the little waif manipulated my flesh.

“Good morning, Daddy,” Marie smiled, leaning in to give me a kiss. “Turn over and I’ll get the back.”

We repeated our maneuver of Wednesday morning, complete with pubic hair tickling my butt and boobs brushing my back. I was going to be sooo ready for those test results to come back.

Marie was working me over when my phone rang. I honestly don’t remember taking it off silent last night. I could only hope I hadn’t been a lucky contestant for curfew check.

Marie reached over to get the phone off the nightstand, making sure to get both nipples on me, accepted the call and handed it to me without a word.

“This is Gary,” I mumbled as my masseuse resumed her position on my butt.

“Just thought I ought to tell ya I got some of the test results back overnight,” Ny’Quesha Taylor said, sounding like she was very excited but trying to keep calm in case anyone overheard. “Everything was negative.”

“That’s great news,” I said, speaking a little more clearly this time. “What’s left?”

“Syphilis and HIV,” Ny’Quesha said. “The lady at the health clinic said those results take longer to get back, but local instances for those are very low, almost nonexistent.”

“We’d both better wait until those come in,” I said as Marie continued her work. “I don’t want to take any chances. No sex of any kind until all the test results come back.”

“Yes, sir,” the preacher’s daughter said, “but it’s been kinda hard this week. I just get so horny. I was tempted to give in a couple of times last night at church. Marshawn scared the boys away from me before anything happened.”

Looks like my teammate was willing to protect his little sister from more than just me. I could only hope he really believed that me having a relationship with her would be to her benefit.

“Like I told you the other day, think of what you have to do to achieve your goals and make them happen,” I commanded. “I don’t want Marshawn getting in trouble for defending your honor. He’s too important to the team.”

“Yes, sir,” Ny’Quesha said. “And I’ve been working hard in my classes, too. I’ve gotten A’s on all my homework so far this week. I can’t wait to go to the cookout Friday night!”

“Morgan has to grant approval first,” I said. “She has a pretty good grasp of what you’ve done so far. Do a good job on the tests you have coming up and I’ll see you Friday.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “I’d better let you go. I’ve still got to get ready for school and Tynesha will be here soon to give me a ride.”

“Have a good day, then,” I said.

After the call disconnected, I took a moment to save the number to my contacts. I was pretty sure the prefix was for a cell instead of a landline. I’d better make sure I had Elise’s number, as well.

“So, are you cleared for action?” Marie asked rather hopefully.

“Not completely,” I moaned as she continued the massage. “Syphilis and HIV results are still pending, but Ny’Quesha sounded hopeful. She said local rates for those are quite low.”

“Umm,” Marie began, sounding a little unsure of herself, “what would you say if I invited Ny’Quesha over to help me on weekends? I could afford to pay her out of what Mrs. Jenson pays me and still make my car payments.”

“I thought you weren’t into high school girls,” I said. “That’s the third one you’ve mentioned this week.”

Actually, in about 36 hours, if not less.

“Not like that,” Marie said hastily. “I was thinking if I could get her alone, I could explain some of the things she’ll need to know about being your pet, tell her what to expect. And get the housework done that much faster.”

“And just what does she need to know?” I asked.

“Well, she hasn’t really done anything but suck dicks and fuck,” my submissive bitch explained. “She’s never had anyone go down on her and I know how much you like doing that. I don’t think she’s ever tried anal — the volleyball match wasn’t exactly the place to bring it up — and I’d be willing to bet that happens eventually. I just think she needs to learn what all’s involved, like butt plugs and enemas, before you shove that tree trunk up there.

“And you’ll probably use restraints on her if she hangs around long enough. We all agree she needs to be punished for putting you through this.”

“Who is ‘we all?’” I asked.

“The seven of us — Mrs. Jenson, Mrs. Metzger, your first four high school girlfriends and me,” she said. “I don’t think Elise and Sherry would be able to grasp the concept yet.”

“I would think this would be as much Arlene’s decision as mine, probably more,” I said. “You’d be bringing an outsider into her home.”

“An outsider who’ll be an insider once you get inside her again,” Marie snickered. “Actually, it was Mrs. Jenson’s idea. Except for helping with the housekeeping. I deserve to get something out of conditioning your new pet for you.”

“Yes, you do, baby,” I said. “If Arlene’s already given her blessing, I guess I don’t have a problem with it.

“Ny’Quesha mentioned she gets really horny sometimes. Maybe you could advise her on how to control her urges, like help her get a toy or something. But no sexual contact.”

“I know,” the little waif said. “No sex for Ny’Quesha until all the test results are back.”

“Not only that,” I said, “she’s just 16. I don’t want you getting into the same kind of trouble Julia did. I’d hate to lose two pets when I’m supposed to be gaining one.”

“Yes, Daddy,” my first pet said, finally climbing off me. “You’d better get ready for school. I’ll fix your breakfast.”

“Thank you, baby,” I said, getting out of bed and giving her a smooch. “Ya know, no matter how much you teach her, Ny’Quesha has a long way to go before she could ever match you. Like, years. You take such good care of me.”

Marie blushed and ducked her head at my praise, but I think she was pleased to hear it. It was the truth, after all.

I hopped into the shower for a quick rinse — Marie had gotten a little juicy humping against my butt and I didn’t need that smell lingering on me at school — shaved, brushed and attempted to get my hair to behave, then went to get dressed. As I was digging a pair of boxers out of the dresser, I decided to look at the weather app on my phone to see what it was supposed to be like today.

It was 54 degrees outside.

I don’t think I’d seen a temperature that low outside a refrigerator since early March, maybe late February. I’d almost forgotten it could get that cool around here.

Since I still didn’t have any outerwear here, I went with the idea I’d had yesterday and layered an Oxford cloth over a polo. The forecast called for it to be in the low 70s all afternoon. If it got too warm, I could leave the button-down shirt in my locker at the fieldhouse from athletics until the end of practice this evening.

Long pants didn’t even require a thought.

I even went to the trouble of pulling out a pair of socks to wear with my deck shoes. The loafers needed to spend a day or two drying out after yesterday.

Marie had breakfast on the table by the time I was ready. It looked like I wouldn’t need much lunch again today, especially after eating half of Morgan’s dinner last night.

“Are you coming with me again today?” I asked between bites as the little waif sipped on her coffee.

“No, I’ve got some errands to run,” she said. “Master Earl has my number if he has any questions, but he needs to make his own decisions without someone looking over his shoulder. Palomita will let him know what she needs.”

“I should let you get to it, then,” I said as I finished another breakfast that was more than I needed.

Our farewell kiss tasted of pineapple juice and coffee. Not a combination I would have chosen, but it wasn’t that bad.

It was just a little after 7 as I loaded up. I needed to run by Walmart and get another package of graph paper for my Economics test. I didn’t want to stop off at the house only to discover Kacie (or Mom) had taken the package I’d stashed in my desk last week. The resulting confrontation would surely make me late for school.

I needed to have some to keep in my locker, anyway.

By the time I got that taken care of, it was about a quarter ‘til when I pulled into my spot in the senior lot. Even Travis Murtaugh had already headed inside. There wasn’t enough time to visit my locker, but I had everything I needed for the morning in my backpack. After the test in first period, we’d spend second period reviewing the test we’d taken yesterday. I was pretty sure third period would be a blowoff since we’d have a sub. I could spend the time studying my game plan.

I did hear a few murmurs as I made my way to Mr. Cochran’s room, but nothing I could claim was aimed at me. I was pretty sure there was enough gossip about other topics going around.

The test went surprisingly well. It was a mix of essay questions similar to our earlier homework assignment and problems that required graphs. Because Mr. Cochran had placed them seemingly at random, the essay questions had to be written out longhand. I took extra care with my penmanship, but my handwriting appeared legible. To me, at least. Mr. Cochran may hold another opinion.

I also took time to check my math before I started graphing those answers. Just because I had a full package of graph paper didn’t mean I wanted to waste any because of stupid mistakes.

Even at that, I was able to finish before Mr. Cochran called for the stragglers to hand theirs in. I felt pretty good about how I’d done. I ought to be able to keep the Beemer through fall break.

“How’d it go?” Chuck asked as we made our way out at the bell.

“Not bad,” I said. “Now I just have to get through the test on the game plan and knock out an essay in Creative Writing.”

The murmurs intensified as we made our way down the hall. I distinctly heard a snide comment about liking little girls from somewhere behind me. I turned to find the girl who’d busted my chops about Holly and Lela giving me a death stare.

“Care to say that to my face?” I growled, giving her my best Clint Eastwood glare, which caused her and several other people to blush and scurry away. “That’s what I thought.”

“What’s that all about?” Chuck asked.

“I’ll tell you at lunch,” I said. “We need to get to class instead of wasting time on bullshit.”

Western Civ met my expectations in that Mrs. Edwards returned our tests and spent most of the period going over it. She did ask me about where I’d gotten some of my answers. I almost told her the same place she’d gotten some of her questions, but figured I’d better not. I didn’t want to endanger the A she’d given me.

“My Aunt Karen has helped me with English and showed me some websites she’s used in her courses,” I said. “One of them had a link to a page on Medieval Europe. It has a very informative section on the Reconquista.”

“And what courses does your Aunt Karen take that would have her using those sites?” Mrs. Edwards asked.

“Not taking, teaching,” I said, fighting hard not to smirk. “Dr. Karen Robinson, professor of Romantic literature. She subbed for Mrs. Albracht in English IV a few weeks ago.”

“I’ve met her,” Mrs. Edwards said, sounding impressed. “She’s a sharp cookie. At least you didn’t just copy and paste the information. Plagiarism is an automatic F.”

I got the feeling that last part was aimed at my classmates who might be tempted to do just that if they could find the site. I wasn’t going to tell them how.

The intensity of the murmuring ratcheted up a notch or 12 during the trip to English IV. Some stoner who looked like he’d failed miserably in his latest attempt to escape from a trailer park decided he was going to tell me what was what.

“Scum like you ought to be expelled and shot,” he sneered.

“Hang on just a sec,” I said, pulling out my phone, turning on the video recording and slipping it into my shirt pocket with the lens facing my assailant. “Now, I want you to clearly state your name — first, middle and last, just like it’s on your birth certificate — and home address, then repeat what you just said to me.”

The idiot not only followed my instructions, he even spelled his name — Jaxson Blaine Tolleson — before doubling down on his statement.

“And why should ‘scum like me’ receive such treatment?” I asked.

“Because you’re a kiddie fucker,” he said, giving me a look like he’d just love to sign my death warrant.

“And you have proof of this?” I asked, resisting the urge to rearrange his face.

“It was on the Internet,” he gloated. “Some Hollywood insider site. They even had a picture of you with a little girl.”

“Thank you,” I said, retrieving my phone and ending the recording as I stepped away. “My attorney will be in touch.”

The fuckwad only then realized that he just might have walked into a trap.

“YOU CAN’T DO THAT!” he screamed as he began to lunge at me, only to trip over a broomstick that a burly janitor carelessly dropped at just the right time in just the right place.

“Oh, sorry,” the janitor said. “Here, let me help ya up, kid.”

I noticed the assistance was provided in the form of a beefy paw around the dipshit’s throat and lasted until his feet were a couple of inches off the floor. I could only admire the way the janitor — Marv, based on the embroidered nameplate on his workshirt — held the struggling dumbfuck close as a little advice was given.

“I can assure you that my principal most certainly can do that,” Marv snarled. “Only one party needs to consent to recording a conversation in this state. Unless you want to spend all of fall break in traction, I suggest you reconsider you actions.”

I almost would have felt sorry for the kid if the puddle that formed under him hadn’t increased the burly dude’s workload.

“Just great, now I gotta get a mop,” Marv swore as he released his grip, causing Jaxson Blaine Tolleson to land with a little splash.

I didn’t even try to suppress the smirk as I turned away and messaged the recording to Mom and Dad with instructions to forward it to Bill Richards and whoever else might make use of it. There was no way I’d get any money out of the shithead, but the clip could definitely be used in the suit against the Hollywood Enquirer.

And seeing the asshole’s day ruined like that just gave me the warm fuzzies.

I was walking into Mrs. Albracht’s room when it hit me that none of the teachers on hall duty had even tried to intervene. I wondered what that was about.

It turned out we had some older lady — a Mrs. Merkel, apparently a retired teacher — subbing for Mrs. Albracht today. After roll was taken, we were told we were allowed to pretty much do as we wished as long as we didn’t leave our seats and remained quiet. I pulled out my game plan and got to work, even though it was unlikely I’d do more than hold for kicks even if I was cleared. I was eager to see the power sets, but it wasn’t like we’d have to rely on them to win. I figured we should be at least four touchdowns better than these guys.

At the bell, I hit my locker and loaded up for the afternoon before heading to the fieldhouse. Algebra II would follow its routine and we had the assignment to turn in for Chemistry. Creative Writing would just be a matter of what topic I drew. The main thing was to remember to employ some of the techniques Mrs. Cohen had been trying to teach us.

The tardy bell rang as I entered the team room, but I was hardly the last to arrive. Several players were still making their way in after stopping off at their lockers. The coaches were only too happy to let us know we were burnin’ daylight as the stragglers took their seats.

The test went well enough. I’d made sure to pay attention to what we’d done in practice the last three days even though I wasn’t an active participant. As long as we avoided mistakes like drive-killing penalties and turnovers, we should be good. The defense, especially the secondary, was my biggest concern.

The rest of the period was spent going over the script. I was ordered to join in even though The Tall One and The Short One would handle messenger duty this week. We’d start in our regular offense, mixing runs and short passes. Unless we popped some big plays, we were going to try to eat the clock and keep the Bears offense off the field.

Doc said he’d look me over before we had our walkthrough. It wouldn’t hurt me to keep the sling for a few more hours.

Morgan was waiting for me when the bell rang. She gave me a smooch and hooked my arm before turning toward the cafeteria. We’d only taken a few steps when Marshawn caught up to us.

“I don’t know if I owe you an apology or thanks or a beatin,’” the linebacker said as he fell in with us.

“What’s up?” I asked, figuring it had to do with his sister.

“Caught a couple of guys botherin’ Ny’Quesha last night at church,” he said. “They didn’t believe her when she said she wasn’t interested. Seems she has a boyfriend now.”

“I hope he’s someone who meets your approval,” Morgan smirked, causing me to consider possible escape routes.

“Yeah, well, he’s a lot less unacceptable than these clowns,” Marshawn growled. “One of ‘em plays for the Bears. Said she’d be lookin’ for a new boyfriend after they beat us and he’d be there waitin’ for her.”

“Just don’t do anything to get yourself in trouble,” I said. “We’re gonna need you for the Cougars and the playoffs. If somebody needs to send a message, I’ll do it.”

“If you even get to play,” Marshawn snorted. “You with your one good arm.”

“I’ll just have to ask the reverend to pray for me again,” I said. “Besides, there are other ways to send messages that can hurt just as much, maybe more.”

“What are you talking about?” Morgan asked suspiciously.

“Stealing their girlfriends and letting them know whose fault it is,” I said as an evil grin spread across my face.

“I thought you said you already have too many girlfriends,” my first girlfriend snapped. “And you still have to take me to Morton’s first.

“Now stop it with the penis measuring. You’ll ruin my lunch.”

PART 144

The lunch line was moving swiftly when we got there, but slowed considerably as the football players began making their selections. I attributed that in part to several offensive linemen, but mostly Chuck and Jed, trying to talk one of the serving ladies into putting an extra scoop of Beef Stroganoff on their trays.

Carla, based on her nametag, was a little leery of dishing up any extra. Instead, the single scoops she did serve were so overloaded she had trouble not spilling too much before hitting her target.

When it was my turn, she gave me a look that wasn’t exactly baleful, but not necessarily accommodating, either. She seemed like a pleasant enough lady — 30-ish, black with an attractive athletic build that led me to believe she could have handled the behemoths if push came to shove — but she seemed a bit harried after dealing with testosterone-fueled jocks. I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d seen her somewhere outside of school before. Maybe at the AME Church.

“You want extra, too?” she asked warily.

I didn’t really need it after what Marie fed me for breakfast, but the thought of Chuck and Jed claiming my food needed protecting from the defense caused me to reconsider. Maybe I could scarf enough down to get through the afternoon and still have some for them.

“If you wouldn’t mind, ma’am,” I smiled warmly as she loaded me up with enough to feed me and Morgan, who’d gone for pizza again. “Thank you, Miss Carla.”

Then Marshawn tried to get in on the act. His attempt at what I believe was supposed to be an angelic expression almost caused me to drop my tray. Miss Carla didn’t seem too impressed herself.

“You boys gonna be the death o’ me,” she muttered as she slung another overloaded serving onto his tray.

“I’m beginnin’ ta think you some kinda tundra fever carrier, white boy,” Marshawn jibed as we made our way to our regular table.

“What?” I asked, not sure if he was actually upset or just giving me more shit.

“Mackin’ on the sista in the servin’ line,” he grinned. “She jus’ gave ya what ya wanted without ya even askin.’ Good thing all ya wanted was lunch.”

“I don’t think that’s it, Marshawn,” I said. “I get the feeling she has more refined tastes than scrawny white boys.”

“Gotta admit, though,” he said, leaning close and lowering his voice, “if a little sugar is what it takes to get fed, I wouldn’t have a problem sweetenin’ the deal with that one.”

“Careful,” I grinned, “I get the feeling she’s heard enough come-ons in her life and knows how to deal with them. Any guy who wants to get close to her better behave himself. I think she’s the one who decides who, what, when, where and how.”

“Over here, dude,” Jed called out, waving me to a spot next to him. “Defense is sittin’ at the other end, Marshawn.”

“Already got me enough that I don’t need to steal from y’all, anyway,” the linebacker snorted at my buddy’s blatant ploy to have my food within easy reach.

“What are you boys gabbing about?” Morgan asked as she squeezed in between Jed and me.

“How good the Stroganoff is today,” I lied, quickly shoveling a forkful into my mouth before she could call me out.

“What are we doin’ for the postgame meal tomorrow night?” Chuck asked from the other side of Jed as he eyed my tray. Somewhat covetously, I thought.

“That’s up to Coach Tucker and the Booster Club,” I said. “I don’t have any details.”

“It’s going to be a limited menu, not like last week,” Morgan cut in as I hurried to take another bite of my lunch before the linemen got any ideas. “From what I could gather, it’s all going to be 12-ounce top sirloin for $10 a pop, but they’re supposed to have enough for you guys to get two if you’re willing to pay for it.”

“That’d be too much that late at night,” Jed interrupted. “Maybe get one and split a second with one or two other guys.”

“Coach Tucker’s supposed to tell y’all all about it,” Morgan continued. “I just don’t know if he was planning to do that after the walkthrough or during athletics tomorrow. I did hear him mention that it would be cash-only.”

“Sounds like I’d better hit the bank before then,” Elise said from behind me, giving me a start. “Gary, could I go over the Chemistry assignment with you? There were a couple of things I wasn’t real sure about.”

I turned to see Elise and Riley, who gave me a rather sour look for some reason.

“Sure,” I said as I forced Morgan and however many guys were on the other side of her to scoot down to create a little room for the new arrivals. I’m not sure, but I think Riley had a butt cheek hanging off the edge.

I managed to get my backpack to where I could pull out my Chemistry book and notes. Finding a place to put them so I could continue eating took some thought, but the volleyball players had apparently finished their lunch. They didn’t have trays, anyway.

Elise compared our answers on a few of the questions, asking how I arrived at one that was different from hers. I swallowed my latest bite — the Stroganoff really was tasty today — and looked over to see which one she meant.

It was while I was explaining my answer that I was again struck by the Thursday curse. Of course Dr. Stirling had to make an appearance. Thursday. Stroganoff. Administrator. It was almost as much a routine as Tuesday, meatloaf, trouble I didn’t cause.

“Good to see my daughter actually focusing on her studies,” the superintendent smirked as he walked up from the other side of the table. “Elise, honey, I need to steal your boyfriend for a moment. Don’t worry, I promise to return him in working order. From the neck up, at least. Gary, if you don’t mind?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, putting my stuff back in my bag.

I still had almost half my lunch on my tray, but I wouldn’t starve before dinner. Chuck was already reaching past Jed and Morgan for what was left.

“Can’t let it go to waste,” the left guard said as the center moved my tray to where they could both finish it off.

The majority of my teammates gave me curious looks as Elise blushed furiously. Since when was I her boyfriend? I’d just have to let her and Morgan deal with their questions.

I shouldered my backpack and followed Dr. Stirling to the little picnic area. I was surprised to see Marv the janitor and Miss Carla waiting for us.

“Tell me about your confrontation with the Tolleson boy,” Dr. Stirling commanded as we joined the other two.

“It’d be easier to show you, sir,” I said, pulling out my phone and calling up the recording.

The superintendent played it twice to make sure he didn’t miss anything. His grimace at the use of “kiddie fucker” seemed to be another strike against Jaxson Blaine Tolleson.

“Smart move avoiding a physical confrontation,” he finally said. “I’d hate to have to tell Coach Tucker you’re not playing tomorrow.”

“I probably won’t do anything but hold, anyway, and I have to get cleared for that,” I said, flapping my left arm in the sling.

“Mr. Johnson, let me hear your side,” Dr. Stirling said, turning to Marv.

Marv Johnson looked like what I might expect if Marshawn spent the next 20 years in a weightroom while serving in special forces. The dude had no neck. Even the shaved head was the same. If anyone could be more intimidating than Dunwoody, it was Marv.

The undercover security guy rehashed his role, which was pretty much as I remembered it.

“The boy was spoilin’ for a fight,” Marv growled. “I figured I’d better step in before somebody got hurt.”

“Yes, well, it appears Tolleson went home for the day after having an accident,” Dr. Stirling smirked. “If he comes to school tomorrow, he’ll get to spend time with Mr. Dunwoody. If he waits until after fall break to return, he’ll get to spend time with someone else. Mr. Dunwoody will assume his new duties then.”

“How about Marvin?” Miss Carla asked with a wicked grin. “He has his degree and is more than capable. You could get him an emergency certificate to get by until a permanent replacement is found.”

“That might work, Mrs. Johnson,” Dr. Stirling mused. “We’ve got enough of your people on campus to keep watch on your clients. I’ll have to run it up the flagpole, but I know the guy at the top. I’m pretty sure he’ll salute.

“Now, I’ve got other fires to put out. Mrs. Montero somehow got it in her head that Gary, here, is going to be the new principal. I don’t know how that rumor got started. You’d better get to class, Gary.”

“Yes, sir,” I said as the father of one of my girlfriends departed.

I then turned toward the couple masquerading as a janitor and a cafeteria worker.

“Mr. and Mrs. Johnson?” I asked. “As in married? To each other?”

“For nearly 10 years,” Miss Carla smirked. “It was the only way I could think of to keep this big lug out of the brig until he finished his hitch. He has a little trouble dealing with fools. There were a lot of fools in our chain of command back then.”

“Thanks for your help,” I said. “Are either of you attached to Arwen’s detail? She’s making me take her to Morton’s on Saturday night.”

“We aren’t,” Marv said. “I was just gonna stay home and watch football.”

“Well, if you’d like a good meal without having to spend time in the kitchen, we’ll be there about 7:30 or 8,” I grinned. “I’ll buy. You don’t even have to join us. Just enjoy a date night.”

“I think I’d like that,” Miss Carla smiled, eliciting a low rumble from her husband. “Does Marvin have to wear a tie? He hates ties.”

“I’m the same way, Marvin, but I think Arwen wants to play dressup,” I grinned. “A dress shirt, jacket and slacks should be enough based on what I’ve seen in there.”

Marv gave me a look that seemed to indicate I’d better be right about the dress code. I think Miss Carla was already planning their outfits for the evening.

I made my farewell, saying I hoped to see them Saturday, and headed toward Mr. Henderson’s room as the bell rang.

Before I could get away, Marv grabbed me by the arm and pulled me close.

“My wife can call me Marvin,” he growled. “You can call me Mr. Johnson.”

“Will do, Mr. Johnson,” I said.

Now I just had to come up with a way to explain to Marshawn that his crush was already taken.

Algebra II held no surprises. We graded and turned in our homework, then reviewed for tomorrow’s test. There was just enough new material in Mr. Henderson’s lecture to cause me to make sure Cody would be available to go over everything after practice. Worst case, we could get together during lunch after the pep rally tomorrow.

Elise was waiting for me when I got to Chemistry, which made me wonder if she skipped her fifth-period class or something. She was usually a couple minutes behind me.