My Story
Chapter 3

Copyright© 2014 by Janno Jones

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 3 - This is the story of Janno. It will wander a lot, and will have false starts and blind alleys, but it will always be interesting. It's the story of a strange and wonderful life.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Consensual   CrossDressing   Fiction   Extra Sensory Perception  

"What's a medium?" I said.

"You're a channel for the spirits," Della said. She grabbed both of my hands and looked deep into my eyes. "I know you've always been a passive boy," she said. "God knows, you let me boss you around enough. It never dawned on me before, but you have the kind of personality the spirits like -- you don't give them any resistance when they want to speak through you. I can make myself that way sometimes, but I'm too much of an egotistical bitch to move out of the way for very long. You're more the type they like -- a pushover, to be frank about it."

"I don't like what just happened," I said. "I'm scared."

Della put her arms around me and hugged me tight. "Don't you worry, honey. I'm here to protect you. They won't do anything bad to you, anyway. Most of them are just looking for a way to communicate. They get full of all these thoughts and feelings, and they can't express them. When they find somebody like you, it's like God gave them a microphone."

"They won't hurt me?" I said.

"Not at all. Just relax and let it flow, honey. Give them their chance to speak, and once they get it out they'll leave. There's just one thing, though."

"What's that?" I said.

She got a troubled look on her face. "I don't know how to tell you this, kid, but sometimes mediums pay a price for their gift. I, uh, knew a girl back in my burlesque days who used to work with me sometimes, because she was a medium like you. She had a body that would melt an Eskimo, and a face like a china doll. The girl was a knockout, if you know what I mean."

"So?" I said. "What was the problem?"

"She never got her rocks off," Della said. "I know it sounds hard to believe, and there were plenty of men who tried, but this girl just couldn't enjoy sex, no matter what she did. She told me it was like there was a switch in her brain that was turned off, and she couldn't get excited. It was a godawful shame, because she sure got men hot and bothered. Just walking down the street she'd have every man in the area with his cock at half mast." She laughed her cigarette-tempered cackle at the memory.

"That's a nice story," I said. "But what does it have to do with me?"

"The girl -- her name was April Storm -- told me an old Gypsy woman told her that mediums like her cannot ever enjoy sex. It's just the price they have to pay. Balances things out, I guess, in the cosmic realm. Hell, it's a bit too much, if you ask me. I wouldn't care about all the spiritual powers in the world if I couldn't enjoy a good roll in the hay. I'm sorry, honey."

Della had a look on her face as though she had just told me I had terminal cancer. She really felt bad for me, that I might never be able to enjoy sex. I was a teenager, though, and to be honest, it didn't bother me much. The whole idea of sex scared me, and even though I could appreciate beauty in both sexes -- even get excited about a hot body, up to a point -- I was strangely lacking in desire to sleep with anyone.

"It's no big deal, Mom," I said, getting up from the chair. "Don't worry about it."

She grabbed my arm and pulled me back in the chair.

"What do you mean?" she said. "Why, a boy your age ought to be going crazy right now, with all those hormones running around your body. You mean to say you don't care? Let me ask you something: have you ever seen a pretty girl and gotten hard?"

"MOM!" I said.

"Oh, don't get all sensitive on me," she said. "Answer the question: have you ever been hard for a girl?"

"No," I said. "Not that I remember."

She exhaled strongly. "Okay, maybe you go the other way. What about boys? Does the thought of a boy with muscles get your dick hard?"

"No," I said. "Not really. I mean, I don't think so."

"Okay," she said, letting me go. "You can go now. But I have some thinking to do."

After that it seemed like Della wanted to make me into a normal boy. She didn't talk to me about spirits and mediums after that, and she tried her best to keep me on the path of normalcy. It was something I decided I wanted also.

I was a slender, girlish looking boy and I didn't want to look like that anymore. I sent away for a Charles Atlas muscle building program that I'd seen advertised in the back of a comic book, and I worked at it religiously, doing the exercises every morning and evening. For all my hard work, though, my muscles stayed pretty much the same. I would look in the mirror constantly, striking poses like I'd seen in the pictures of Charles Atlas, measuring my biceps every day with the measuring tape from my mother's dress shop, and the results were always depressing. My skinny arms barely got any bigger. You could still see my breastbones underneath my tiny pectoral muscles. I just couldn't seem to put on any muscle.

 
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