Chapter 2

Mom told Merry that she could do the lawn, but that I had to check it over afterwards to make sure that it was done right.

Merry flew outside and I could hear her try, unsuccessfully, to get the lawn mower to start. It was one of those pull-start mowers, not like the ones that start the first time that you can purchase today. I knew after the third or fourth pull that Merry wasn't going to be able to start it.

Smiling, I went outside where Merry had the lawn mower out. She had the gas can out, so I could tell she had already made sure that there was enough fuel in it.

I yelled to her and she looked up. She looked a bit sheepish about not being able to start the cold mower.

"Let me do this for you," I said, acting like a big he-man.

"I always have trouble starting it the first time," Merry said.

"You just need a few more muscles in your arm," I told her.

I put my foot against the machine and gave the cord a quick pull. The engine roared to life, but started to sputter down. I quick adjusted the choke and the engine soon was at its normal speed.

"Here," I said, shouting a bit over the din of the engine.

"Thanks, Jimmy... Jim!" She said, correcting herself.

"No problem."

Merry took the handle of the mower and started to cut the grass.

I looked over to the driveway and Mom was just leaving to go to Aunt Peggy's. I jogged over to where she was and gave her a kiss good bye.

"Mom... Since Merry is gonna do the lawn, I'm going to hang out with Jack again today. OK?"

My mother looked down the street toward where Jack lived. She looked back at me and smiled. "OK, Jim. But could you stay here for fifteen minutes to make sure that Merry has no more problems with the mower?"

I glanced at where my step-sister was pushing the mower and back to my mother. "Sure. I'll be glad to. It's easy starting once it's warm, though."

"Maybe. But I'd rather she be careful. She's just thirteen..."

"Fourteen next month! Don't forget. She's not letting ME forget!"

Mom and I laughed. When she first remarried, she had been worried to death that she might forget some important date, and I had done my best to make sure that she never forgot any. "I'm not about to forget, but thanks."

Mom started her car and pulled out the driveway. I watched her car drive down the street.

I looked over at Merry, and waved at her. She waved back at me. I went into the house.

Upstairs, I retrieved that roll of "Lucky Tickets" that I had found. Were these really magic? Where did they come from? Did they really make Merry strip naked yesterday and last night?

I told myself that this could be a game that Merry was playing. Although it was totally against her character, such a thing was still possible. After all, she did seem to notice when I touched her, and when I kissed her. Was she just pretending?

How could I tell?

I put the tickets into my duffel bag where I had my Frisbee and a baseball mitt. I wanted to try them out someplace where Merry wasn't around.

The phone rang. It was Jack.

I asked him if he wanted to throw the saucer around again. He seemed to like that idea. I also suggested that we go to the Jack-in-the-Box for lunch later. Jack didn't like that place much, I think mostly because he felt that they stole "his" name, but he agreed to go.

I told him that I'd meet him at his house.

I got to Jack's about forty-five minutes later. Merry was about half-way done with our lawn and had restarted the mower without any problem.

When I got to Jack's, I went to his side door and knocked. Jack's sister, Patrice, answered the door. She was seventeen and didn't think much of her brother or any of his friends. She looked at me with disdain and called out to Jack that one of his "loser friends was at the door."

Patrice had always done things like this. I was used to it. But for some reason, her attitude pissed me off today.

Yeah. She'd be behaving differently if I gave her a ticket, huh?

What was I thinking? I didn't even know if the tickets really worked, and I was already thinking of using them to teach a lesson to Jack's older sister???

Jack came to the door, interrupting my thoughts. He led me downstairs to the basement which his parents had converted into some sort of a den.

"What's with your sister? I heard her call me a loser again!" I complained to Jack.

"She's probably on the rag," he answered, shrugging.

That was a standard response when any female seemed a bit grouchy. I don't think either of us actually knew what it meant at the time.

We went downstairs, and I was trying to think of some way of testing the tickets now that I was away from Merry.

Jack told me with a sullen face, "My parents left while I was on the phone. I don't have permission to go to the park yet. I'm going to call Mom when she gets to the office."

Unlike my mother, Jack's mother worked full time. Apparently, Jack was home alone with his bitchy sister. Once again, I was thinking what I would do with her if those damn tickets actually worked.

Suddenly, an idea sprang into my head.

I went into my duffel bag and pulled out the roll of tickets. "Hey, Jack. Do you remember these?"

Jack looked at the tickets. "Oh, yeah. You gonna put on a show, huh?"

I knew that Jack said that to needle me for what I had suggested the other day. I was still just a little hurt from his telling me that only "kids and dorks" put on shows.

I grinned at him. "Jack. Take a ticket." I tore off a ticket and handed it to him.

Without a word, he reached out and grabbed it from me. He then intoned, "You have one wish."

"Jack, I wish for you to stay down here. Do nothing until I come back down. When I come down, I want you to think that we spent all that time just talking and playing around. OK?"

"Your wish is my command," he intoned.

"Far fucking out," I thought to myself.

I quietly walked up the stairs into Jack's kitchen. I wasn't sure where Patrice was, but that was a central location in Jack's small house. I immediately heard the television on in the living room. Patrice was probably in there.

I knew that we were alone; Jack was downstairs and would stay downstairs until I returned. I still had the roll of tickets in my hand.

I walked into Jack's living room. Patrice was watching something on the TV, and didn't immediately notice that I had come in.

When I saw Patrice, a thousand ideas went into my head. I was going to make her pay for every time she insulted me or any of Jack's other friends. She was going to beg for mercy... she was going to...

"What are you doing up here, you little dork?" came Patrice's snide remark. While I was trying to decide what to say, she apparently noticed that I had entered the living room.

"Um..." I said, a bit on the defensive. "Would you like a ticket?"

"A ticket? What for? You losers doing some sort of raffle?" she asked.

I pulled a ticket off the roll and handed it to her.

She looked at the ticket and then intoned, "Your wish is my command."

"I wish you to do whatever I say forever. I wish that you will never be able to tell anybody that I have any power over you. You are helpless and at my mercy."

"Your wish is too complicated. Please try again," Patrice intoned.

This was the first time that I had ever had a wish rejected. But it appeared that I had another attempt.

"Why is it too complicated?" I asked.

"Your wish cannot last longer than a day."

"May I ask you for another wish then?"

"Yes," Patrice intoned.

"I wish you to do whatever I say until I leave. You will immediately forget whatever we do afterwards. During the time we are together, you will be helpless and at my mercy."

"Your wish is my command."

I looked at my prize. Patrice was seventeen. She had short black hair, smallish tits, and a slim figure. She wasn't one of the better looking girls by any means.

But she was mine.

"So, what's this ticket good for, dickless?" Patrice sneered.

I was taken aback by her curt remark. I though she was supposed to do whatever I said.

"You too chicken-shit to talk to me?" she asked, giving me an evil smile.

Oh, fuck. I hadn't told her to do anything.

"Shut up!" I said.

Patrice went to give me some snide remark, but nothing came out of her mouth. She looked confused. She coughed a couple of times and then tried again. Again she failed.

"You can talk to me, but only with respect," I said, grinning at her.

"Like h..." she went mute. She shook her head, and then tried to talk again. Again nothing.

I let her worry a bit at her inability to communicate.

Patrice tried a few more minutes. Finally, she was able to speak, softly. "What is happening to my voice?"

I gave her an evil smile. "I told you to only talk to me with respect. If what you are saying isn't respectful, it won't come out."

"How are you doing this... Jim?" Patrice's whole demeanor had changed. It was obvious that talking to me in a normal tone of voice wasn't easy for her.

"Let's just say that you are in my power," I said.

Patrice tried to say something and failed again. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out. She finally said, "I don't understand how you are doing this."

"Who the hell cares what you think, bitch?" I spat.

Again, Patrice's immediate reaction wasn't able to be communicated. I could see that she was getting more and more frustrated.

It was time to demonstrate my complete control now. "While you learn to keep a civil tongue in your head, come over to me and give me the sexiest kiss you know how."

This was met by another futile attempt to speak, accompanied by her getting up from her chair. I could see panic in her eyes as her body was betraying her thoughts.

"Please don't..." she said softly before her lips met mine and muffled anything else she had to say.

She was kissing me! I felt her tongue touch my lips and I opened them in surprise. Her tongue snaked into my mouth.

The kiss felt wonderful, and I could see real fear in her eyes as she knew that she had absolutely no control over her body.

I touched my tongue to hers and our tongues played together. She must have done this before, I thought to myself. I wonder who she had done this with? Maybe I was going to learn her whole sexual history... and give her a new history to boot!

I moved my hands to her tiny breasts. They were a little bit bigger than Merry's... but not by much. I could see from her eyes that my touching her wasn't appreciated, but I didn't give a rat's ass about that at the moment. She was going to pay for all the shit she had been giving to me and all of Jack's other friends.

Finally, I got bored with the kiss. I was ready for some action. I pushed her away.

Patrice stood there looking at me. She didn't make any attempt to run away; it would have been futile if she tried. One word from me would stop her cold.

But what if I couldn't say anything? I never told her that she couldn't hurt me!

"Patrice, you will not hurt me under any circumstances."

I saw her eyes open wide. Maybe she had been thinking of the same thing!

What else was I missing?

"Patrice, you will ensure that I won't be hurt by anyone or anything else."

I couldn't think of any loopholes now.

But Patrice was older than me. She probably had a more devious mind. "Patrice, you will not attempt to escape from me, or do anything to harm me directly or indirectly. If you can think of anything that I may have overlooked, you will inform me as soon as you think of it."

That was the best I could do at such short notice. I would have to come up with some standard "disclaimer" when I did something like this again. But that was for the future.

I was thinking of having Patrice think of me as the most sexy man in the world, and almost gave her that command, when it struck me that this would probably give her a break. I most certainly did not want her to enjoy my control over her. I wanted her to experience the humiliation that she had heaped on me and others over the years.

"Why are you doing this to me?" asked Patrice, softly.

"Because I can," I answered. "And because you are a first class bitch. And a first class bitch deserves to be punished."

I didn't know where I wanted to go from here. A spanking from a younger boy would certainly be humiliating. Having sex with me would also be humiliating. How far did I want to push this?

"Patrice, sit down. Let's have a talk."

I motioned to the sofa and she sat down, and I sat next to her. I put my hand on her knee. Her arm went up automatically to put my hand off of her, but she quickly thought better of that. I grinned at her.

"Answer me truthfully. Yes or no... are you a virgin?"

"Yes," she said in a smallish voice.

"Maybe not for long," I sneered.

Patrice blanched.

"I have some questions regarding sex. You will answer me to the best of your knowledge. You will give me any personal information that is applicable to my question. OK?"

Patrice nodded meekly.

I thought of what Jack said before. "Are you on the rag right now?"

Patrice shook her head no.

"What does that expression mean?"

Patrice explained about menstruation. It turned out that I had already had some inkling about it from roundabout things that Merry and my mother said in conversations.

Patrice also told me about her periods. Hers were quite regular, ever since she went on the pill on her seventeenth birthday.

"You are using birth control?" I asked.

Yes, she nodded.

"And you are still a virgin?" I asked. I thought all girls on the pill were sluts.

"Yes. I'm waiting for..." She looked at me with pleading eyes. "For the right guy. Before I... you know..."

"You've never had sex?" I asked.

"No... not really..."

"The entire truth, Patrice," I told her.

"I let Ricky Lane touch my breasts... and I felt his thing..."

Ricky Lane was a kind of nerdy guy in high school. I never knew that he and Patrice were an item. Jack had never said anything.

"Is he the only one?" I asked.

"No," Patrice answered. She seemed like she was going to end it there, but she blurted out, "I gave head to Donny Erickson back in junior high on a dare."

I had never heard of him. "Who's Donny Erickson?"

"He left two years ago when his parents moved to California."

"What is 'head?'" I asked. I had heard the expression, but it had never been explained.

"Oh, god!" Patrice said, mostly to herself. She looked at me and explained. "It's when you take a boy's... thing... in your mouth... and rub it and suck it..."

This sounded like something interesting!

"Do you make him shoot?" I asked, getting into it.

Patrice closed her eyes, as if this wasn't a happy memory for her. "He... Donny did, the pig! In my mouth. On my chin. Over my blouse..."

Gross! I don't think I'll be giving head any time soon! "And that's called 'head?'" I asked.

"Yes. Or a blow job. Or sucking dick," Patrice answered. It seemed like she didn't like the other terms much.

I had heard of blow jobs, and now Patrice had confirmed to me what they were. "Oral sex?" I asked.

"Yes. Except that 'head' is more specific when I girl does it to a guy."

"You mean, guys can give oral sex to girls?" I asked, confused by the mechanics.

"Umm... a guy... or a girl for that matter... can lick a girl in her... pussy. It's supposed to feel pretty good, like when a girl sucks a guys... thing."

"You mean, if a guy were to lick your... pussy... it would feel good to you?" I asked.

I could see that Patrice was getting embarrassed. She nodded her head. "Nobody's ever licked me there. But Betty told me that she and her cousin..." Patrice got red.

"Betty who?" I asked, going through the Betty's that I knew in my head.

"Betty Elders," Patrice answered. "My best friend. But please! Don't tell her I told you. She'd never talk to me again!"

"Don't worry. You said that Donny was a pig for shooting in your mouth. Isn't that the idea?" I asked.

"Well, a guy is supposed to let a girl know, and then she can decide what she wants to do. Give him a hand job... you know, pumping him with her hand... or taking it in her mouth."

"And Donny didn't let you know?" I asked.

"It was the first time I'd ever did anything with a guy. I didn't know he was going to come, and I didn't think he'd come in my mouth!"

"'Come' means to shoot sperm?" I asked.

Patrice looked at me as if I was stupid. She was going to say something to that effect, but my previous command to only talk to me with respect prevented her. She closed her eyes and said, "Yes. Come. Orgasm. Shoot. Erupt. And about a thousand other words, I guess."

I asked Patrice a number of other questions. Back then, kids weren't really told the facts of life, and what they were told didn't have the explicitness of what I was being told by Patrice.

To give Patrice credit, she made me more cognizant of sex. She gave me details of looking at other girls in the showers or in the locker room when they were dressing, how she looked at boys' bulges in their pants. What girls talked about when they were talking about boys. I learned about the physiology of females, and about the mechanics of sex. It was quite an eye-opening education.

It took about a half hour, but at the end, I think I was thoroughly educated... at least, as educated as a seventeen year old virgin female was capable of teaching at that place and time.

I was silent for about five minutes, thinking about what I was learning.

"Jim?" Patrice said, softly.

"What?" I said, surprised that she interrupted my thoughts.

"I'm sorry... for calling you a dork. And all those other things. I never really thought of you... or any of Jack's friends... as really being people..."

"What the hell is a 'dork' anyway?" I asked.

"Well, it's usually synonymous with a nerd," Patrice said, looking at me to see if I was going to take offense. "And... I think specifically, it means 'penis.'"

I burst out laughing. That was the first direct mention that Patrice ever made to the male genitalia. Prior to this, she had always referred to it as a 'thing.'

Patrice didn't know why I was laughing, but seemed a bit less worried that I was upset now that I knew what she had called me.

"Are you really sorry?" I finally asked her.

"Yes," she answered.

"Tell me the truth. Are you really sorry, or are you just worried about what I will do to you?"

"I'm truly sorry," Patrice said. Her face was serious. "And I admit that I'm worried what you will do to me. But I'm truly sorry. As I'm talking to you about sex, I realize that you might be younger than me, but you're a person. You have questions. I didn't realize that until you... well, until you got mad today."

"And what do you think I'll do to you?" I asked, not really knowing the answer to that question myself.

Patrice looked at me steadily. "At first I thought you might rape me. That you might make me fuck you... and maybe Jack. Is he still downstairs, or is he in the kitchen listening in?"

Chapter 3 »