The book is called "The Power of Suggestion".

I couldn't believe some of the claims made by the author of this book I was reading in the high school library.

I would not even have taken the time to bother if not for my English teacher, threatening to flunk me if I didn't come up with a book report.

Ironically, there had been seven different books on the shelf with the exact same title. I chose this one above the others because I liked the art work on the cover.

It was difficult to try to do a book report on something that the author claimed was non-fiction.

But I put what I read into practice and maybe that's how I got the B+.

Essentially, this book offers to show the reader just how to push people's buttons. It's definitely not a form of hypnosis, and it claims that no one can be made to do anything that they weren't already predisposed to do - a disclaimer if I ever saw one!

But I never expected Mrs. Hanover to give me anything but a D, and only for the effort, so the suggestion that "encouragement breeds effort" certainly worked on her. Maybe the author is a psychologist.

I continued trudging along in school, praying for the nuke that would end everything - my life was boring.

Chess club (because I COULD), Stage crew (which got me out of classes), and unbelievably, the Football team (because I was fast) made me a rarity in school - the nerd jock!

Oh, I had plenty of chances with cohorts in those other student activities because of my varsity standing, but I had absolutely no desire to be "king of the dog pound".

Not to be cruel, but how can a guy with bursting hormones even consider a relationship with a girl that (literally) made his dick shrink? It kind of defeats the purpose. I chose self abuse quietly over insults or getting involved with any of them.

Naturally I guess, my aloofness lead to rumors that I was gay - and only my success on the football field saved me from the ass kickings.

But I longed for the ability to talk to girls without breaking into a sweat!

The only girl I could talk to like that was my sister, and she didn't count. Besides, she referred to me as nerdo or crank-yanker.

Susie could have written that book I reported on - she had everyone doing loops around her!

Susie had auburn hair and green eyes. She had an athletic build, not too muscular, a normally developed set of tits (at fifteen, that made her probably 32B, but on a smallish girl, 32B isn't flat at all - she wasn't), and her outgoing personality made her extremely popular in school.

She didn't cheerlead because she felt it was beneath her and took up too much of her time, but she certainly held court with the cheerleaders as if she was an alumnus. She was also everybody's "Ask Susie".

When I had been typing my book report on the computer, Susie had made some telling comments which alerted me to the fact that she nosed around my files on the computer - we could only afford the one computer.

It was time for me to try what I learned from the book and see if Mrs. Hanover was an anomaly or if I could get Susie to do something for me.

I began writing a long suicide note:

"I can't stand the thought of getting my driver's license (at 17) before I get laid. My life sucks extremely. I can't make friends because I have this disease that makes me perspire like a sauna boy whenever I talk to a girl, so I sit home alone and beat my meat.

Lately though, and the reason I'm ending it all, is because my younger sister Susie has already or is about to lose her cherry before me!

Not that it's any fault of hers, but it's made me look at her with lust - heavy lust - Bill Clinton lust - and I don't want to rape my own kid sister. I don't hate her that much over those stupid insults.

But I want her, badly; except I want her to want ME TOO, and that's never going to happen.

I masturbate to thoughts of her. I picture her hearing my moans some night and venturing to me, pleading for me to show her something, anything about what makes boys tick; but I'm sure she already has that down pat, hence her cherry is gone.